#anyways I LOVE IMELDA

[myokk]

remembering the snow

pairing: Imelda Reyes x Poppy Sweeting

word count: 3,2k

summary:

Imelda remembers the first time she saw snow.

Her parents always started the story telling her that she cried and cried and cried.

***

Or: a character study on Imelda and how she grew up because I love her & she doesn't get enough appreciation :)

cw: none, this is just a love letter to Imelda

a/n: or: this was the first oneshot I ever wrote, and it holds such a special place in my heart. I think it might be my favorite 🥹🫶

Imelda Reyes has never been one to do things by halves.

Her mother always talked about the circumstances of her birth with pride: Imelda came quickly as if she were eager to get out and see the world already, screaming even before she had fully left her mother's womb, determined to leave an indelible mark on the world.

The women in their village who had assisted the birth crossed themselves, chattering to each other in quick, soft, beautiful Spanish staccato about the baby who was already unlike any they had ever seen before. Strong and healthy and beautiful, her deep brown eyes already taking in her surroundings and watching them solemnly moments after her arrival.

Her father always talked about the circumstances of her childhood: running wild and free, flying before she could walk (a source of great pride), his little shadow who peppered him with endless questions about the world. He always brought her along to his work meetings much to everyone's delight; she was with him when he was offered the enviable position of Spanish Diplomat to the British Ministry of Magic.

At the age of five, they left the beautiful sleepy village where time hadn't seemed to exist. Imelda still dreams of long, hot, dusty days playing under the shade of orange trees, going to the market every two days with her mother draped in their finest silks, sleeping and lying around during the hottest part of the day, only leaving their house once the sun left its highest point and was about to disappear behind the mountains.

The older women in the village doted on her. If she thinks hard, she can recall their beautiful, wavering voices calling out to her as she raced past them: 'ten cuidado, cariño, te vas a mancar', 'ven aquí, cielo, te quiero ver la cara tan bonita', 'mira cómo se está creciendo, se nota que va a ser una belleza de mayor'...voices filled with comfort and love. She never knew anything different then.

She's their only child. Her mother was always brushing her hair and humming, trying to get her to sit still and listen to her endless fairy tales as the sun bore down on them; her father, treating Imelda like the son he had always wished for but accepting and loving her all the same. Sometimes, her mother would let her out of the house before the sun became too strong and they would fly around the mountains and be free free free.

Arriving to Edinburgh at the age of five, Imelda hadn't even realized she didn't speak the same language as the other children around her. As with everything else, she jumped in headfirst. Her mother always jokes that she became fluent in English the second she stepped foot on Scottish soil. To Imelda, it does seem that way. She can't ever remember not speaking in the soft Scottish burr, reminiscent of the soft Spanish she had left behind and still spoke at home.

As a child, she never had problems forging relationships with whoever was around her. She was brash and inquisitive and irresistible, taking charge wherever she went. The other children flocked around her, hanging on to her every word.

It changed, though, when her mother got her cough. It started out harmless enough, a slight cough and headache before bed each night. When her mother woke up every morning, she would be fine. But going to bed early changed to going to bed even earlier and earlier until it was time to accept what the three of them were steadfastly ignoring: she was getting worse.

Imelda was nine. She remembers her mother drying her tears with gentle, soft hands, caressing her cheeks and whispering to her that it would be fine. That she wasn't gone yet: they still had time.

'No pasa nada, mi amor. Siempre estaré contigo.'

At Hogwarts, things changed even more. She was a Slytherin and proud of it, but she never quite fit in with her classmates. She wasn't one of them, hadn't grown up with them, and they made sure she knew it. Gone were the days of running wild: she turned her single-minded determination to her studies and quidditch and found herself excelling at everything she put her mind to. It all came easily to her and she had no time for anyone who could distract her.

She wasn't a complete loner. She had her quidditch teammates, her partners in various classes, but nobody she hung out with outside of classes. She always studied alone, learned alone, trained alone.

(Of course, the picture she paints to her father in owls home is much different. He has enough on his mind - a daughter struggling to make friends is a non-issue as far as Imelda is concerned. And besides: she's fine.)

Imelda was quite content with the way things were working out for her. She would never admit if she was lonely or not, and enjoyed every part of her life. Until her fifth year, when everything began to change. Gone were her rigid schedules and studying alone and discipline. A new girl was sorted into Slytherin and Imelda found she didn't hate the girl's company. The two of them laugh together at night while they braid each others' hair, Imelda teaches her Spanish, and they have started to study together.

The new student drags her around Hogwarts and Imelda finds herself actually enjoying herself and enjoying spending time with the classmates she’s spent so many years ignoring.

This is when she meets Poppy Sweeting.

Well...Poppy swears that they met ages ago, during their first year when they were partnered together in Potions. Imelda has no recollection - that whole year was a blur - it was the year her mother succumbed to her illness - so she has to take Poppy's word for it.

She finds herself with friends for the first time in a long time. But, when the new student is running off with Sebastian doing Merlin-knows-what, things that Imelda definitely does not want to be a part of, she still finds herself seeking Poppy's company.

Poppy is sweet and fun and introverted in a way that Imelda finds familiar and comfortable: whereas Imelda turns to her studies and quidditch, Poppy often opts to spend time more time with beasts than humans. But there's something endearing about her earnestness and Imelda starts to find herself craving Poppy's calm company.

She always knows what to say when Imelda finds herself getting worked up over nothing.

On the train home for the winter holidays, as Imelda is striding down the long corridor in search of an empty cabin where she can read and concoct fail-proof quidditch tactics, Poppy calls her over to her carriage and asks Imelda to keep her company. She only needs to ask once. There's an unfamiliar fluttering in Imelda's stomach as she sits across from Poppy and the other girl beams at her but it's...well. It's not altogether unpleasant. They play exploding snap and exchange book recommendations and laugh together and...well, if Imelda's knee brushes against Poppy's occasionally or their fingers linger as they exchange essays to look over...

She can't be blamed, can she?

A letter from Poppy arrives over the break. At the sight of Poppy's small brown owl tapping the window with the letter in its beak, Imelda's heart starts racing and she runs over to the bird, grinning like a fool, but she pauses before opening it. Her fingers tremble as they hover over the wax seal.

Imelda's father is largely absent these days, a shadow of the man she had grown up with. She's noticed the difference over the summer too, of course, but the winter always feels different. More desolate; more harsh. They're nearing the four-year anniversary of her mother's death. It's impossible to ignore the fact that losing his wife has damaged his soul irreparably, and Imelda's seeing first-hand what being deeply in love can do to a person.

Maybe she'll put the letter aside and read it tomorrow.

Tomorrow bleeds into the next day turns into one week and before she can blink the bleak winter vacation with her father has ended and she's heading back to Hogwarts.

On the train, she walks past Poppy: the two of them make eye contact but Poppy flushes and looks out the window, tucking her honey-colored hair behind her ear and Imelda moves on to the next empty carriage. She pulls out some parchment and works on revising her Charms essay. It's for the best, anyway, she tells herself. For the best that she doesn't have any distractions. Their O.W.L.s are coming up and she's determined to get an O in every subject.

The month of January goes by in a flash. Between the insane quidditch schedule she's concocted for her team and the study sessions in the library, she keeps herself busy. The new fifth-year, her first real friend, starts to show concern for Imelda, gently trying to ask her what's going on as they braid each others' hair before bed.

Imelda doesn't want to bother her, though.

(She doesn't truly know what's the matter, anyways.)

She resolves to do a better job with keeping her emotions in check - her friend has enough on her plate, and Imelda doesn't want her to have to worry over something that's not even a problem in the first place.

She's fine.

Out of the corner of her eye in the classes she shares with Poppy, Imelda notices that she doesn't look as happy as she normally does. Her face is more pale and withdrawn; whenever Imelda's eyes flicker to her, her own gaze darts away.

With the beginning of February come a lot of blizzards, and they make Imelda remember the first time she saw snow.

Her parents always started the story telling her that she cried and cried and cried.

They had both run over to her, covering her with warm hugs and kisses, the tiny family huddled together in this foreign place where the people looked and spoke differently, where nothing was the same and she missed the old women who would give her mazapanes whenever she ran by, missed the tiny clouds of dust that would puff up as she ran and the hazy mountains in the distance and the hot, hot sun beating down while she played in the shade of the orange trees while her mother slept away the heat. Pulling her mittened hands off of her tear-stained face and telling her 'mira cariño, mira qué bonita es la nieve. Tócala, ya verás que no pasa nada...estamos aquí contigo...'

Her tears had soon dried and she was laughing and playing in the snow and she couldn't even remember what had made her so sad in the first place.

Imelda's sad now as she stares out the window.

Her mother isn't there anymore. She has no one to turn to in this self-imposed exile.

Four years ago today.

She's hidden herself away in an alcove, curled up, arms wrapped around her knees watching the snow swirling out the window. She canceled quidditch practice today due to the storm, much to everyone's surprise. Just last week, she had forced them to train in the freezing rain and today's snowfall is mild in comparison. But...today she doesn't have the energy. She's spent so much effort pretending that everything's fine when it's not and now she's sad and alone and confused.

She doesn't hear Poppy when she comes near.

The other girl crowds into Imelda's space, pressing against her in the alcove. The two face each other, and Poppy brings a gentle hand up to Imelda's face to brush away tears she hadn't even realized were falling.

"What -" Imelda starts saying, but a fresh sob chokes her and she can't. Poppy leans forward and wraps her arms around Imelda, pulling her into a close embrace. Imelda feels everything crumbling around her and she sobs into Poppy's shoulder - Poppy whispering reassurances and smoothing her hair, cradling Imelda as she cries and cries and cries.

They don't leave the alcove for another hour, almost staying out after curfew.

Imelda is subdued the next few days. The snow continues to fall until the whole castle looks like it's straight from one of the fairy tales her mother used to tell her as she brushed her hair. Imelda shows up for meals, shows up for classes, shows up in the study group, but she feels like she's just going through the motions.

She can tell her friend is getting worried, but Imelda can't confide in her. Her friend does small gestures anyways because she understands: saving Imelda a seat in class, asking her about quidditch, saving her favorite muffins for her at breakfast.

Maybe she talked to Sebastian about her worry because even he is being nicer than normal to Imelda, asking her if she wants to play wizarding chess with the two of them. Imelda doesn't really understand how or why they like playing the game so much - her friend is awful at it and Sebastian seems to enjoy the destruction and chaos more than actually strategizing. Even though Imelda hates the game - every move is painfully obvious and she can't understand how nobody else sees it like she does - maybe it would be nice to do something different.

Imelda freezes when they enter the Astronomy Tower to play: Poppy is there, waiting. For her. They haven't seen each other since she broke down humiliated and sobbing and she doesn't know what to do.

Sebastian looks between the two of them, brows furrowed, then leans down to their friend and whispers something in her ear. She nods and the two of them disappear, leaving Imelda and Poppy alone.

Poppy stands and Imelda can feel her heart start to hammer against her throat. Poppy walks forward slowly, only stopping when she's right in front of Imelda. When she speaks, her voice is high and sweet and Imelda realizes how much she missed her. "I-I'm sorry, I just didn't know how else I could talk to you. Will you come with me? I have something to show you."

Imelda nods mutely and Poppy takes her hand. They lace their fingers together and it's the first time - apart from a few days ago - that they have voluntarily touched each other. She feels Poppy's fingers tighten around hers and Imelda focuses on the feeling of soft knuckles under her thumb, but now...she's self-conscious for the first time about her quidditch-rough hands and maybe she should have listened to her friend when she tried to encourage Imelda to use some hand lotion.

Maybe Poppy will let go of her hand and leave in disgust.

But...Poppy doesn't do any of that. Every so often, she looks up at Imelda, smiling slightly. When they reach the Entrance Hall, she lets go of Imelda's hand and Imelda feels its loss with a pang.

Poppy opens the bag at her side and pulls out two huge yellow and black Hufflepuff scarves. As she's reaching up to wrap one around Imelda, she whispers: "sorry, I only have these. But yellow looks good on you."

Both of them flush and smile at each other and Imelda doesn't know how long they stand before Poppy grabs her hand again, making sure their fingers are laced, and then they are heading out.

Poppy looks more and more excited the closer they get to the Forbidden Forest, but Imelda's never set foot even remotely close to the forest, and she feels quite apprehensive at first. But, Poppy's excitement is exhilarating - Imelda can feel it rolling off of her in waves and despite herself, she begins to feel excited too. They still haven't spoken since leaving Hogwarts, but it's a comfortable silence. Imelda's glad for the scarf - their breath is puffing out in soft clouds as they breathe and it's quite cold - the freezing temperatures in Scottish winters are still something she's never quite gotten used to.

Their boots crunch through the snow-filled landscape - it's nearing dusk and the sky is turning a brilliant shade of orange and pink, but it gets obscured by the tree branches the further into the Forbidden Forest they venture, the golden light only showing in bursts now.

"Almost there," Poppy says breathlessly. She beams up at Imelda, whose breath catches at the sight, before turning back and pulling her faster and faster until they stop in a clearing. They've stopped in the middle, and Imelda looks around.

Here, they can actually see the sky and it is breathtaking in its beauty - the gnarled, naked trees around them twisting and reaching up as if they could try and grasp some of the beauty for themselves. The snow is perfectly smooth and untouched except for the footprints that the two of them have just left. Apart from that, the clearing is nondescript.

This is what Poppy had been so excited to show her?

Poppy gives no explanation for why she brought Imelda to the Forbidden Forest, but she's almost quivering in excitement - Imelda can feel the tension in the hand that's clutching hers tightly. The sun sets lower and lower, the two of them watching it as the colors around them start to fade and mute and then -

Poppy gasps in delight.

There -

A small, dancing, brilliant white light sparks to their left and disappears just as quickly.

"Look," Poppy whispers. Imelda glances over to her - she can barely make out her face in the dimming light, but Poppy seems to be glowing with happiness.

There - again -

More and more of the brilliant white lights appear, glowing and flickering on and off, and moving in almost a pattern, dancing around their heads. Imelda laughs as she watches the tiny creatures fly around them. It's magical and beautiful and -

"I found the snow sprite nest a few weeks ago, when the blizzards started, and I've been observing them since then. I...I wanted to show you and tell you about them the second I found out because I haven't stopped thinking about you but after...well, you know...I just wanted to cheer you up..."

Poppy trails off, looking uncertain when Imelda doesn't say anything in response.

She can't, even though she desperately wants to. Her mouth goes dry as she looks to the girl at her side, who has done all of this, for her.

Poppy looks impossibly lovely in the glow of the snow sprites, as they dance and spark around their heads in a beautiful waving pattern and Imelda doesn't even think as her hand goes to Poppy's cheek. Poppy stops rambling as she looks up into Imelda's eyes.

Then, before she can lose her nerve, Imelda leans forward and presses her lips to Poppy's. It's only the lightest of touches, but her heart is beating so quickly and Merlin, she can't believe she just did that. She quickly retreats, face flaming, but before she can get away Poppy reaches up to cup Imelda's cheeks with both hands and she pulls her forward, her mouth greedy, desperate, as they finally kiss.

When they finally pull away, breathing heavily as their foreheads rest against each other, Imelda can't help the huge smile that's threatening to split her face open. It mirrors the expression she sees on Poppy, her eyes bright and cheeks flushed and she is just so lovely that Imelda can't help but lean forward and capture her mouth again. Their lips mold to each other and it's the culmination of all of their stolen glances, touches, secret wishes.

Imelda Reyes has never been one to do things by halves, after all .

A HUGE thank you to @dom1re and @thingsmaygetalittlecrazy for reading this oneshot recently and leaving me such amazing comments on ao3😭♥️♥️♥️ they made me reread this oneshot & I remembered how much I love it🫶

[zetadraconis11]

HL Incorrect Quote #54

Garreth: Is something burning?

Imelda: ...Just my love for you.

Garreth:

Garreth: Imelda, the biscuits are on fire.

[scriptumsempra]

IGNORANT

Summary: Sebastian Sallow is great at two things: dueling, and saying the worst possible thing to the girl he likes. Now she’s not speaking to him (but everyone else suddenly is). And not even six apology letters, a box of Honeydukes chocolate, or a toast-bribed owl can fix it. Word Count: ~4,900 (I’m a minimalist. That’s basically 10k in my language.) Tags: Sebastian Sallow x f!MC, Sebastian is not brooding, Explicit Language, Canon Divergence, Sebastian says something stupid and regrets it for 3000 words, Teen angst, Bird bribery, Character growth (probably), Love that might work if he stops being a prat, Sebastian being Sebastian, MC is so DONE, Emotional Spiral & Mental Breakdance, Slow Burn (kinda)

A/N: Back with some Ominis sass, a traumatised owl, and a healthy dose of teenage spiraling. This time, I stepped a little out of my comfort zone — wrote something longer, didn’t make everything too angsty, and just let them be teenagers. As they should be. (Also attempted to sneak in some humor. I hope I’m funny.)

Honestly, I feel bad for the characters in Hogwarts Legacy — so many of them are burdened by trauma far too early, not to mention that they're only teenagers. Maybe that’s why I’m drawn to the stories I write: to let them have the moments they deserve. To give them a break — a space to be young, reckless, ridiculous — to worry about crushes and quarrels instead of villains, curses, or saving the world.

Anyway, this fic is inspired by Sebastian Sallow and his half-assed, owled apology (which, in my mind, is the wizarding equivalent of breaking up over text). And truthfully? The only thing that kept me going was the need to finally sleep at night, knowing he properly apologized to the MC Enjoy ❤️

If there’s one thing Sebastian Sallow is good at — better than reading, better than duelling — it’s definitely taking a certain new fifth-year for granted. (Gold star. Full marks. Ten points to Slytherin.) Which is why Sebastian hadn’t expected her to walk away. Not really. She was always ready with a comeback. A lecture. A frowned pair of eyebrows (that and a half-judgmental look). But this time? After he called her ignorant — after she flinched, just barely — she just stared at him. Silent. Lips parted like she wanted to say something, but thought better of it. Then she sighed. Turned. Walked out of the Undercroft like he hadn’t just cracked something wide open between them. And now she wasn’t speaking to him. And worse — everyone else was. ... “Look at this. Sebastian Sallow — hearts in pieces. Did you two lovebirds finally part ways?” Imelda asked one afternoon, leaning far too casually against a training dummy like she hadn’t been watching him fail conjuring Protego three times in a row. Sebastian didn’t even glance at her. “What now, Imelda?” “While you’re over here sulking, Larson and Prewett have been very chatty with your girl.” She tilted her head toward the other side of the room, where a small knot of students had gathered around her. “Oh, look. Even Clopton’s joined them.” “She can do whatever she wants. Now, go bite someone else’s head off.” He scoffed, turning his back and attempting to cast something — anything — with actual success this time. “I’m just saying — now that you’ve stopped hogging her, other blokes are lining up.” She gave a low whistle. “She’s not my girl” He snapped, voice louder than he intended it to be.  “Of course.” Imelda grinned. “Care to explain why you look like you’re going to hex someone every time they say hi to her, then?” Sebastian didn’t answer. Didn’t even look her way. He squared his stance, eyes locked on the training dummy like he hadn’t heard a word. Wand raised. Jinx ready. Across the room, her laughter bubbled out at something Andrew said. Quiet, really — just not to him. A blast — wide. Off target. Again. “Your loss, Sallow.” “OH—fuck off, Reyes.” She walked off laughing. Satisfied.

He threw a tantrum that night. Not on purpose.  It started with him stomping towards his room, scaring a pair of second-years along the way. Then it continued with his poorly written Transfiguration essay (and one quill that wouldn’t stop leaking). After that he’d tripped over his own shoes on the way to his trunk and stubbed his toe on the brass footboard. Next thing he knew, a downpour of profanities. The essay was in pieces. His robe was crumpled in one hand. He hurled it across the room like it had personally offended him. It landed in a sad heap beside his ink-splattered notes. From the other side of the room, Ominis groaned. “For Merlin’s sake — Sebastian, you’re being impossible.” “I’m not.” Sebastian snapped, voice cracking somewhere between protest and a whine. “Really?” Ominis sat up in bed, arms crossed over his night shirt. “Because it looks like you’re holding a personal vendetta against that robe.” Sebastian scowled. “I said I’m not angry, Ominis,” he repeated, half-screaming now. Ominis pointed toward the scattered essay pages. “Tell that to your Potions homework.” Sebastian didn’t even bother to correct him. He dragged a hand through his hair. “It’s just — she’s ignoring me.” “As she should be.” “And Larson’s been following her around like a lost kneazle.” “You called her ignorant, Sebastian.” “How did you— … I didn’t mean it—!” “But you said it.” Ominis replied, infuriatingly calm. “And she told me.”

Then he proceeded to dust off his sheets, as if the string of profanities his best friend had just graced him with had somehow soiled his expensive duvet. Sebastian groaned again. “Why are you even angry at the first place? You’re the one who put yourself in this position.” Sebastian opened his mouth. Closed it. Picked up a boot and dropped it again with a thud. “I’m not angry.” “You’re brooding.” “I am NOT brooding.” “And I am not blind.” Ominis went back to his bed, set his wand aside, and pulled his blankets up. “Try not to let your emotional collapse stain my side of the room. Good night, Sebastian.” He muttered yet another profanity (which brought his nightly violation count to three) before finally flopping himself into his bed, surrounded by a field of emotional debris. Eventually, he dragged himself to his desk, picked up his ruined essay, and glared at it like it might start apologizing first.

Sebastian woke up cranky. Ominis was right. He was brooding. Not that he’d ever admit it — no, his teenage pride would sooner hex itself than confess to something that pathetic. He tried to fall back asleep (emphasis on tried), but the word ignorant echoed in his ears every time he closed his eyes. And her face — he’d never seen her look at him like that before. Not angry. Not upset. Just… disappointed. An expression he hadn’t even known she had. Which is how he ended up with one hour of sleep and two dark circles under his eyes. For the hundredth time this morning, he groaned. Failure wasn’t something Sebastian was familiar with — not in class, not in duels, not in anything that mattered — but lately it clung to him like a second skin. Like now — after counting 520 imaginary mooncalves (he was that desperate), he gave up. Might as well start the day. Sleep-deprived or not. He kicked off the blankets and got dressed. Didn’t need a calendar to know it was Saturday. Ominis was nowhere in sight — breakfast, probably — and his bed was, of course, immaculately made. By the time Sebastian finished lacing his boots, he spotted an enchanted parchment and quill bobbing smugly over his desk, clearly Ominis’s handiwork — no doubt. It hovered like a nagging thought, practically vibrating with self-righteous energy. Go write her an apology. He squinted at it.

Piss Off. He’d already written five.  Five bloody letters — and not a single reply. Sebastian stormed out of his room — no longer hungry for breakfast. So he turned on his heel and redirected his steps.

If there was one other thing Sebastian despised about being sorted into Slytherin, it was the distance from their common room to the Owlery — a fact he cursed under his breath, panting halfway up the foul-smelling tower. He had owled her. Not once. Not twice. Five times.  (To which no single correspondence was ever received.) By the time he reached the top, he squinted through the rafters, eyes scanning for a familiar scops owl — the one with feathers as brown as his curls and eyes almost as big as Anne’s. A detail he remembered from when they’d first picked him out together. Didn’t take long. Their owl was perched there, nonchalant as ever, like it had absolutely nothing better to do. “What’ve you got, Nibbles?” he called. A peculiar name — if one must ask — but since he’d had the honor of choosing the owl, the naming rights had gone straight to Anne. If it had been up to him, he’d have picked something like Trouble. He found it completely ludicrous (and maybe a little bit brilliant) to imagine the reactions when people heard, ‘Trouble is here with your letter.’ The owl turned its head slowly. Let out a low trill. “Nothing? At all?” Nibbles blinked. Then hooted. One claw lifted — just enough to highlight the utter absence of mail. “Anything?” Sebastian thought he’d lost his mind, but he could’ve sworn Nibbles was judging him. As if it were saying: Do you see me with a bloody mail? Sebastian scratched his head. Having exhausted his own means, he resorted now to seeking out her owl instead. He didn’t spend long to spot the thing — small, white, and built like a snow-dusted paperweight with wings. Perched smugly just outside the window. Clearly, he was getting better at this whole owl-stalking business. “Hey, Cotton,” he murmured. It reminded him of the day she’d adopted her — that first trip to Hogsmeade, all wide eyes and cold fingers. He’d thought Chalk suited the owl better, but she’d insisted on Cotton. Something about wanting to be a seamstress as a child — a dream swiftly abandoned the moment she learned you could conjure fabric with a flick of a wand. (You can actually make them out of thin air? she’d gasped, completely scandalized, watching enchanted scissors float mid-air.) The owl didn’t even nudge. Like pet, like master. He muttered under his breath. “Can you help me deliver this?” He held out a neatly folded letter — his sixth one; faintly perfumed with florals. (Ugh. But Ominis had insisted.) No reply. Not even a glance. Sebastian was losing his mind. Academics? No problem. Curses? Easy. But girls? A completely different breed. (Witches and pets alike). Where was Anne when he needed her most? “Cotton, come on.. I’m trying here.” Sebastian groveled. “…Please?” he extended his other hand. A small piece of fresh toast laid on top of his palm. Sebastian never came unprepared, after all. The owl swiveled its head almost fully around, staring him down with its judgmental, marble eyes. Bribery won’t get you anywhere — He could’ve sworn the bloody owl had just spoken. With one single motion, it snatched the letter from one hand, pecked the toast from the other, and soared into the sky. Damned owl. Ominis might’ve been blessed with Parseltongue — Sebastian, it seemed, was cursed to negotiate with birds.

It was quiet in the library.

Not quiet quiet. Quiet enough to hear Madam Scribner’s boots echoing down the corridor — loud enough to make his headache throb like a cursed kettle. At some point, Sebastian briefly considered slamming his head into the nearest tome, if only to drown it all out. Sleep deprivation had a way of making everything too loud.

That place had always been his sanctuary.

Before the Undercroft, before the secrets, before he made a mess of everything — it was books, parchment, and peace. It fed his curiosity. Gave him silence. And most importantly — she never came here alone. So of course, now she did. (Sebastian was starting to think fate had a cruel sense of humour.)

He had come to borrow one bloody book. Not that he’d be reading it now. She sat on the same table near the Restricted Section. Same posture — back straight, eyes narrowed, quill tapping out some rhythm only she understood. She looked fine. Like she wasn’t having a spectacularly miserable morning. Like he hadn’t said something vile. Like her world hadn’t been tilted sideways by the boy who, for some reason, couldn’t keep his ego down or his bloody mouth shut. He hovered by the shelf for a beat too long, pretending to read the spine of Magical Theory. It might as well have been Magic and Misdemeanors: A Slytherin’s Guide to Self-Sabotage. He dared a glance. She didn’t look up. Didn’t pause. Didn’t frown. Didn’t shift the way she normally would if she felt someone watching her. She kept writing — head down, quill moving, completely undisturbed by his presence. A familiar envelope sat beside her books, dusted with crumbs from what looked suspiciously like his breakfast toast.

He made a mental note to return to the Owlery. Cotton had earned it — toast toll and all. Sebastian sighed. He thought about what he’d done — said — to her. Finally admitted (to himself, anyway) that Ominis was right. Again. He had been an arse, and he did deserve the silence. Another sigh. He was just about ready to walk over — maybe not to fix it, but to try — when: Everett Fucking Clopton. “Is that the new translation of Gamp’s Theorem?” he asked, sliding into the seat beside her like it was his by right. “Didn’t know Weasley mentioned it’d be in our test next week.” She gave him a small, non-committal hum. The audacity. Sebastian’s jaw tightened. That smug, know-it-all Ravenclaw sitting right there. Clopton — of all people — parked in his seat like he belonged there. His? Since when has it been his? Sebastian shoved the thought aside. But he noticed how Everett leaned in. How her grip around her quill tightened. Clearly uncomfortable — too polite to say anything.

Typical. That was all it took. He stalked forward, each step louder than it should’ve been. “Ah, Sallow — we were just talking about—” “Move.” Not a request. Not a question. A threat. Everett blinked. Mouth open. Words floundering. Sebastian didn’t wait. His eyes cut to the empty space across from her — his spot — and he dropped into it without permission. Clopton hovered awkwardly, still half-seated beside her. “Right. Well, I suppose I’ll—” “I said, Move,” Sebastian repeated. Flat. Final. Everett finally took the hint, muttered something about needing a book from Ancient Runes, and fled. Silence settled between them. Not tense. Not hostile. Just — careful. Like the quiet after an explosion, when the dust hasn’t fully cleared. She didn’t look up. Sebastian did. Studied the way her eyes tracked the page. The deliberate flick of her wrist as she underlined a sentence with her quill. The way she ignored him so completely, it might’ve been an art form. He opened his mouth. Closed it. Sebastian cleared his throat. No response. He leaned forward, trying again. “I know you’re angry. I get it—well, maybe not get it, but—look, I’m trying.” No answer. He sighed. “I was an idiot. More than usual. Just… talk to me, will you?” Still Nothing. “Please.” That made her look up. Not all the way. Just enough that her eyes met his over the top of the parchment. “Actually, I should thank you.” She said quietly. A pause — light, but deliberate. “...For teaching me something I hadn’t realised — that I’m actually quite… dim-witted.” Sebastian quickly opened his mouth, but she didn’t miss a beat. “—I suppose that’s what you really think of me.” Sebastian felt it — a knife to his gut. She didn’t raise her voice. Didn’t even sound upset — but it landed like a curse. “What’s the word? … Oh — ignorant.” And just like that, the knife twisted. Sebastian didn’t move. Didn’t speak. Didn’t know how.

A minute passed. Then another.  She didn’t cry. She never did. And that, somehow, made it worse.

…Fuck. “You don’t say that word by accident, Sebastian.” Her voice was quiet, but unwavering. She’d never said his name like that before — like it meant something broken. “You say it when you want to wound.” Fuck. Then she blinked, once — slow. Her eyes were glassy, but nothing fell. Didn’t need to. “Congratulations, Sebastian. You managed.”

Her words sank in slow — like poison. No antidote in sight. Completely fucked. And in that moment, Sebastian felt like he was going to be sick. Or die. Maybe both.

Sebastian returned to the dorm that night. No shouting. No slammed doors. Just silence — the complete opposite of the tantrum he’d thrown the night before. Quiet. Heavy. Like something had been carved out of him. Ominis tilted his head slightly. “Everything alright?” No answer. Not even a groan. Sebastian just stood there, eyes vacant — staring at the canopy like an Inferius that had just lost its soul. “Sebastian?” A beat. Then… “I’m fucked, Ominis.” Ominis calmly raised his wand, red light casting shadows over Sebastian’s face — as if checking to confirm whether he was, in Sebastian’s own terms, well and truly fucked. “Yes, well,” Ominis muttered, frowning. “I didn’t want to be the one to say it. But here we are.” Sebastian dragged a hand down his face and groaned. “I know that sound. You’re breathing like someone who’s either heartbroken… or hexed — Possibly both.”

“Brilliant, Gaunt. Really helpful.” He rolled his eyes as if Ominis could see him. “Well, you started.” Ominis crossed his arms. “And frankly, I’ve never seen you look more pathetic — and I’ve seen you lose a duel to a fourth-year.” “That was one time—” “And this is worse.” Sebastian groaned, collapsing into his bed like the weight of the day had finally flattened him. “She hates me.” “I’d say you earned it.” He groaned louder. Ominis leaned back, looking far too satisfied for someone not even trying to hide his I-told-you-so. “You’ll need to do better than just talk to her. Apologizing isn’t a one-time spell, Sebastian. It’s not Reparo.” Sebastian grumbled something about Ominis being utterly insufferable — but then his shoulders dropped, and he exhaled, defeated. “What should I do, Ominis?” He hated asking. But he hated not knowing more. “I could tell you to write her another letter,” Ominis offered flatly, “but we both know how well that went last time — or the other four times.” At this rate, Sebastian’s groans were starting to rival a banshee’s — tragic, high-pitched, and very hard to ignore. “Merlin, just kill me.” “No, no.” Ominis sat up with a grin. “I’d rather see you suffer. Much more entertaining.” Sebastian dragged the pillow over his head. “I didn’t mean it, you know. The word.” Ominis’s voice softened — just a little. “Then tell her that. Not with parchment. Not through Clopton’s seat in the library. Properly.” “I did, Ominis. I’m telling you, I did everything.” Sebastian flopped in his bed, dramatically. “And she’s still mad?” Didn’t need a pair of working eyes to know Sebastian nodded into his pillow. Ominis sighed. “Then you’re right. You’re completely fucked. There, I said it.”

Sebastian nearly cried. At this point, even ancient magic couldn’t save him.

Sebastian had spent the day circling corridors, half-expecting her to step from behind a stone pillar or breeze past him on the stairs with that unreadable look she wore so well. She hadn’t. Not in the common room. Not in Charms. Not even the Undercroft.

(And he didn’t miss the way she’d stopped calling it “ours.”)

He told himself — as he always did — that it wasn’t about her. That Anne was still slipping away, and everything else was just noise in the background: a blurry chorus of things that didn’t matter as much.

But then she looked at someone else the way she used to look at him.

And the noise became unbearable. ... “Violet, please,” he muttered under his breath in Herbology, elbow-deep in damp mulch.

“For the umpteenth time: No, Sebastian.” Violet pinched her lips. “She told me she’d hex my eyebrows off if I even tried to interfere.” “She wouldn’t,” he said, though he wasn’t sure — but he pretended he was. Had to. Asking her roommate for help felt like a low move, but he was desperate. “She would,” said Poppy next to her, pale and wide-eyed. “She made Imelda flinch. Imelda, Sebastian.” He blinked. “What did Imelda say?” Violet gave him a look. “Imelda said you were a ‘disgrace to the male species’ and that maybe next time, don’t insult someone you want to snog.” Sebastian blinked. Twice. “Snog—?” he echoed, already regretting opening his mouth. He pinched the bridge of his nose, then let his head drop onto the table with a dramatic thud. Fine. Let them think that. Let the whole castle whisper about it over breakfast, lunch, and Astronomy Tower detentions. If everyone was so intent on believing he fancied her— ...well. Maybe he did. (But in the name of Salazar, he was far too exhausted to argue the semantics of it.)

Damned be the whole world.

“She didn’t like that either,” Poppy added helpfully. “Almost blasted her off behind the Quidditch pitch.”

Sebastian groaned into his hands. He was losing allies fast. ... By the end of the day, he’d made it through the classes — barely. Words floated past him like fog, lessons sinking in like water on stone. The chatter, the spells, the dull drone of professors’ voices all blurred into a dull hum. Nothing truly reached him; his mind was tangled elsewhere, still circling the same thought over and over, a loop he couldn’t break. By the time he reached the dormitory, exhaustion weighed him down so thoroughly he barely noticed Ominis sitting cross-legged on his bed. “Rough day?” Ominis asked, arching an eyebrow. Sebastian dropped onto his bed with a hollow sigh. “You think?” Ominis might be entertained by Sebastian’s foolery, but he wasn’t blind to how fast things were falling apart—his relationships unraveling, Anne slipping further out of reach, and the whole Slytherin girls’ dorm convinced he was a laughingstock. Though, to be fair, he’d earned every bit of it. For the millionth time, Sebastian groaned, burying his face in his hands. “I’m a disgrace.” “More like a disaster,” Ominis said with a smirk before leaning forward. “But there’s something you need to know.” Sebastian looked up, wary. “She wants to see you — Undercroft.” His heart thudded, surprise jolting through him. “Are you sure? How did she look? Was she angry?” he asked, scrambling off the bed in a hurry. Ominis held up a hand. “Sebastian, might I remind you — I’m blind.” Sebastian froze mid-step, eyes wide. “Right. Of course. I forgot you navigate the world without sight and can’t see the utter mess I’m in. Lucky you.” The words slipped out easily — more habit than insult at this point in their friendship. Ominis snorted. “Precisely. So stop asking me what she looked like. You want an opinion, you’ll have to ask someone with eyeballs.” Sebastian flopped back onto his bed. For a long moment, the weight pressing on his chest lifted, replaced by something unfamiliar — a cautious flicker of hope. Maybe this was his chance. Maybe this was the moment to reclaim what he’d lost. He drew in a shaky breath — the quiet before the storm. “When does she want to meet me again?” He hesitated only a moment, heart thundering like he was walking into a duel. But this was worse. This time, he might actually lose. “Now.” Ominis never heard him bolt that fast before.  (He probably should’ve offered a floo powder, but… better late than never.)

Sebastian stood before the odd-shaped cupboard that led down into the Undercroft. His breath came fast — half from the sprint, half from the weight pressing on his chest. Somewhere along the way, he’d remembered Floo powder existed — and how much of a pain Ignatia Wildsmith could be — but sod it. He was almost here. No shortcuts today. Not for this. In his palm rested a small box of chocolate truffles, still warm from his pocket. Not her usual thing — she’d told him once on their first trip to Hogsmeade that she didn’t like sweets — but as a relentless sweet tooth, Sebastian had insisted she try them. He’d never forget the look on her face when she finally did: surprise mixed with reluctant delight, like she’d found something unexpectedly good. He pushed the memory aside and stepped into the Undercroft. There she was, leaning against the cold stone wall — a heavy book in one hand, her wand in the other. She looked up at him — gaze like glass: hard, polished, nothing getting through. “Long time no see,” he said, voice cracking slightly.

What the actual fuck was that? 

An apology? A greeting? A declaration of war? He wasn’t sure. Probably sounded like a nervous frog croaking for help. All the charm Hogwarts claimed he had — and that was the best he could come up with?

He wanted the floor to swallow him whole.

He held out the box, voice rough. “I brought these. Your favourite.” Peace Offerings, he thought. Her eyes flicked to the truffles, then back to him — still burning.

“Bribery?” Her tone sharpened, rising just a little. The word hit him like a hex. He was scared shitless. Then she said it — slow, deliberate, with that weight only she could carry: “Sebastian Sallow —” His heart nearly stopped. Cold sweat ran down his spine. “—What do you think I am? A bloody owl?” The tension shattered. He blinked, the fear slipping away as if someone had lifted a curse. Because yes — now that she said it — she really did look like Cotton. Fierce, sharp-eyed, and utterly unyielding. Her gaze said it all — Bribery won’t get you anywhere. Pets and their masters, after all. Judgmental stares included. That blasted owl. “And?” She snapped — growing more impatient by the minute. His mind immediately went back to the undercroft. The thought almost made him laugh, but he swallowed it down, hard. Focus, Sebastian. If he dared to laugh now, he’d be hexed to oblivion. No doubt about it. No, he’d literally die. So instead, he forced himself steady. “Maybe I’m just trying to learn from my mistakes.” She didn’t smile. The silence stretched, thick and heavy between them. After what seemed to be forever, she sighed. “What do you want now?” she finally asked, voice low. “Your forgiveness." His throat tightened. "I.. I didn’t mean it — didn’t mean the word like that.” Sebastian exhaled slowly, the weight of his pride battling the truth. “I was angry. Frustrated. I’m sorry. I really am.” For a moment, she was back in Feldcroft — back when he barely slept, back when he snapped at Ominis for breathing too loud and nearly hexed a Hufflepuff just for asking about Anne. She remembered how his hands trembled in the catacombs. How his voice cracked every time he said her name. How he flinched —flinched— when his uncle raised it at him one too many times.

She tried to understand. Merlin, she wanted to. Even when he lashed out. Even when he shut her out. Even when he looked at her like she was just another thing standing between him and a cure. But there had to be a line. And somehow, even after everything — even after she stood by him through spellfire and Scriptorium and loss — he still found a way to cross it. No matter how much she wanted to understand, there was only so much she could take. Her eyes softened for the briefest moment, just enough for a crack to show. “Words hurt, Sebastian. You don’t simply cast them out and pretend they were never said.” “—But I didn’t mean—” “It makes no difference.” Her voice was quiet, but every word landed like a curse. There was a slight pause before she finally continued “...You said it when it suited you best.” He exhaled — the weight of it sagging through him. “I know… I’m sorry. I mean it.” “Are you?” He looked at her. “I swear — I am.” Her lips curled into something resembling a smile — all edge, no warmth. “Am what, Sebastian?” she said, plucking a truffle from the box without ceremony. He knew where this was headed. The answer sat heavy on his tongue, pride coiled tight in his throat. "You’ll have to be more specific — I’m rather… dim-witted, as you can see.” His lips twitched. The sting hit sharper than he expected. He let out a bitter laugh. “… ignorant,” he muttered inaudibly. “Hm?” she asked, casually plucking another truffle, as if she hadn’t just heard him surrender the last shred of his pride. "I am ignorant." There. Said it. Let it hang. She leaned back against the wall, smile curling—dimples and all. “Precisely.” Sebastian shook his head, half-smiling like someone who knew they’d lost. Then he laughed — low, dry, a little pathetic.

Still, worth it. That was the first time he’d seen her smile in weeks. “Friends?” she asked, voice calm again — She extended her hand. eyes dry, unreadable. Sebastian hesitated. Then took it. “Friends.”

Their hands shook once. He let go. Hm?

It didn’t feel right — No, no. Not quite right. Not when her fingers had felt that warm. Not when her touch still lingered like a spell he didn’t know the counter to. He glanced at her — dimples flashing faintly as she turned back to her parchment. Unbothered. Recovered. Like nothing had happened. But something had. Something big. And late as ever, he was just now catching up. Sebastian stared at the spot where her hand had been and, very slowly, remembered what Imelda had said to Poppy in the Training Room.

Next time, don’t insult the girl you want to snog. (Brutal advice. Accurate advice).

Oh, 

Oh. 

Bloody hell.

He was in love with her. (Of course he was. Only took him a full-blown crisis and half a box of truffles to catch on.)

The rest of the day was… different. He didn’t hover anymore. He didn’t grovel. He didn’t owl six times a day or bribe birds with toast or offer sad, crumpled bits of Honeydukes chocolate.

He didn’t need to. She sat next to him again — sometimes. Walked with him after class — sometimes. And when she did, she leaned into his shoulder without needing to explain herself. He didn’t ask. She didn’t pull away. They didn’t talk about what had changed, but it was there — in the silence, in the glances, in the small, unconscious ways her arm brushed against his as they walked through the courtyard. And when one of their classmates — Leander, now — strolled up beside her outside Herbology, grinning too easily and saying something about Hogsmeade plans, Sebastian didn’t even flinch.

He reached up. Rested an arm across her shoulders. Let it stay there.

She didn’t move.

Didn’t mind.

If anything, she tilted her head — slightly — toward him.

Prewett took the hint.

Sebastian said nothing.

He didn’t need to anymore.

He’d earned his place beside her.

It had taken one insult, two owls, six letters, a box of chocolate, and a few minor mental breakdowns… but he was here.

No letters. No toast. No bribes. Just him.

And it was enough.

For once — Sebastian knew when to stop. (He'd gladly prove his uncle wrong.)

P.S. 1. Points if you can tell I was binge-listening to Sabrina Carpenter’s “Manchild” while writing this. (Lol. Fitting, isn’t it?) 2. Bonus points if you caught that “ignorant” was emotionally powered by Gordon Ramsay’s “idiot sandwich” meme energy. (Tell me Sebastian Sallow wouldn’t deserve the same treatment.) Thanks for reading — I hope it makes you laugh, wince, and maybe even yell at Sebastian a little. Let me know what you think! -Nina

✦ The Spiral (So Far): [2/3] : Sixth Time's The Charm

[3/3] : Signed, Sealed, Survived

[whizzing-fizzbee]

I Remember

Sebastian Sallow x GN!Reader

Rating: PG (death, mild violence) Words: 5,339 Tags: G/N reader, G/N MC, angst, grief, mourning, death, love, hurt no comfort, heartbreak, sad Sebastian Sallow

Summary: You died during your seventh year at Hogwarts before you could tell your best friend, Sebastian Sallow, how much you loved him. But when he discovers a box of your pensieve memories, he learns the comforting, yet cruel truth.

Notes: This is a little different from my usual smutty crackfics. So enjoy a bit of angst and have no fear, I’ll be back with more of my usual work soon.

Read on AO3 or below the cut.

Sebastian Sallow hadn’t been a fan of birthdays in years. He shared his own with a twin sister who no longer cared to speak to him. Their parents hadn’t been alive to celebrate with them in ten years, and now, you – the only person he ever loved romantically – were also gone.

Now, people couldn’t help but whisper and wonder if death favored poor Sebastian Sallow.

Life had been far too cruel to Sebastian for him to care about something as flippant as his seventeenth birthday – especially when it was the first birthday he’d spend without you.

Sebastian never told you how he felt. He could never quite find the words or the right time. A teenage boy plagued by so many misfortunes couldn’t be expected to understand such love anyway. All he knew was his eyes constantly searched for you in every room. He knew he craved lapsang souchong tea, because that’s what you drank – bold and smoky, just like you. And he knew that he would have died for you, without question, if he’d only been a little faster.

It happened three months ago, though it replayed in Sebastian’s mind with such frequency and clarity, it could have happened three days ago, for all he knew. 

The two of you had ventured into the Scottish Highlands in search of dittany leaves for a potion. It had been a soft, serene morning punctuated by a mild breeze and the maternal kind of sunshine that embraced you with warmth, offering no inclination you’d endure your demise that day.

After all, you’d eliminated Ranrok and his loyalists. You’d saved Hogwarts – and wizardkind – all while helping the Keepers preserve the secret of your ancient magic in the repository. Your biggest fears these days were Potions exams and Imelda Reyes’ taxing quidditch practices.

But poachers and Ashwinders remained, operating under new unscrupulous undertakings. You knew that – you eliminated them whenever you encountered them – but you hadn’t expected them to be camped outside of Keenbridge that day.

You and Sebastian laughed and joked, unaware that those three Ashwinders were very aware of your presence. So while the two of you cackled about Puffskein Duncan’s hideous new haircut, those Ashwinders were watching. They observed as you gathered your potion ingredients and stashed them inside your bag. They saw the way you tried to shove Sebastian in a creek when he teased you. They noticed the way Sebastian’s eyes lingered on you as you drank from a canteen you’d nicked from Gladwin Moon.

But they didn’t care. And then they struck. 

They ambushed you both when your guards were down, your eyes too busy clinging to each other and your thoughts too consumed by your pounding hearts.

An Incarcerous spell struck Sebastian first, whipping ropes around his hands and feet so that he fell at your side. You knelt to help him, shielding you both with Protego until you managed to hit one Ashwinder with a stunning spell. 

Another Ashwinder drove you backward with a slew of spell combinations, leaving Sebastian bound and helpless in the grass. He writhed and jerked in desperation. You took the second Ashwinder on, your eyes shifting between her and Sebastian. And when you saw the third Ashwinder approaching him, you lost all regard for anything but him. 

“Expelliarmus!” you shouted as you disarmed the third Ashwinder. You sent another cast at Sebastian, freeing him from his bindings so that he could scramble to his feet. You caught his gaze, admired those deep brown eyes, and he smirked at you. The two of you had been in similar scenarios more times than you could remember. And you always walked away unscathed.

And then, the explosion sent you backward. The Ashwinder you had been fighting seized that opportunity when you were lost in Sebastian and sent you flying off your feet until you toppled over the edge of a cliff.

You fell and fell, a slow-motion stage exit to the grand production of your short life. It was quite a letdown of a finale. Surely someone with experience like yours would die in a much more grandiose manner than a few lowly Ashwinders.

The last thing you heard was Sebastian’s scream before your body returned to the earth. Your soul never did, though.

So while Sebastian managed to escape those Ashwinders with his life, he walked away from that day drained of his will to continue surviving.

He’d lost nearly every person close to him. It made him question everything – his purpose, his resolve, and every choice that had led to so many devastating conclusions.

He had to be the one to apparate back to the Hogwarts grounds with your body. He could still hear the whispers – then the screams – as your fellow students realized what had happened. He sat through your funeral while Headmaster Black prattled on some performative prose about how wonderful you were. Then he clung to a corner of the Slytherin Common Room while your housemates drifted past, mumbling their condolences. 

And then, whatever spell had been placed on the world was lifted. Hogwarts was no longer frozen in time. Your classmates returned to their studies and professors went about their lessons. The morose hallways reignited with their old energy, ringing with jubilant chatter. Even the weather moved on, its summer blossoms and laughing waters wilting amid a cold cast of clouds and decay.

Life carried on for everyone but Sebastian. He remained there with you, rooted to the spot in time where he watched your spirited life reach its screeching halt. While everyone else drifted forward, Sebastian lingered in place, searching for you in every new moment while the old ones anchored him to his anguish. 

It had become a canon event in Sebastian’s life, a familiar foe he couldn’t outrun. He lost someone he loved, the world felt sorry for him, and then it moved on. It left Sebastian lonely and isolated, smothered by a grief few others could comprehend. Hogwarts had been his home for years, but your absence made him homesick.

That’s why no one blamed Sebastian for hating his birthday today. No one even dared to approach him, except Ominis in the morning. He urged Sebastian to eat but left when he was met with a cool response. It made no difference. Sebastian had mastered the art of saying words he didn't believe, even if Ominis saw right through them. Instead of attending classes, Sebastian retreated to the Undercroft.

The dark, damp dungeon missed you desperately. When Sebastian first introduced you to the space, you had insisted on tidying it up. You used scrubbing spells to clean the surfaces and fire spells to clear the cobwebs; then you used Professor Weasley’s conjuration spells to add furniture and desks. You even placed thoughtful little trinkets to a tabletop, a touch that reflected your desire to add warmth and comfort wherever you went.

But now, the Undercroft was achingly empty in your absence. Though the traces of your previous presence lingered, the room’s creaks and groans seemed to whimper for your return. The surfaces had collected dust and the floors were dingy again, desperate to be disrupted by your tread. The braziers were dimmer, begging for a blast of your fiery existence. 

Sebastian hated that room now. It was once his recluse; his safe space meant only for him and the three people he cared about. But now that your handprints were all over it, it was lacking the life you had once breathed into it. 

Sebastian left the Undercroft and ascended the Astronomy Tower. When the Room of Requirement appeared for him, he strode right in. It would provide him with whatever it was he needed.

He visited your room often, simply to stand and feel its pulse. You were everywhere. And unlike the Undercroft, you lingered with life here. Sometimes, Sebastian sat on a sofa in the side room until he dozed off. Other times, he’d venture into the vivariums to check on its inhabitants. Most times, he merely felt ; the room seemed to know Sebastian wanted to remember you, and it often hummed with a calm, quiet murmur reminiscent of your soothing tone.

Today, the room seemed to know Sebastian was in need of a birthday gift. As he wandered toward the side room, his eyes scanning the bookshelves you’d filled with your – and Sebastian’s – favorite novels, his eyes fell on a trunk. He had never noticed it before. 

Sebastian frowned and eyed the trunk’s lid. There was no lock on it. 

After you died, your friends had been careful with your belongings. Sebastian kept everything of sentimental value in a trunk of his own, from your school robes to the notebooks containing your scribbles about ancient magic. Everything that mattered to you was in his care now, so it struck him as odd that there’d be a secret trunk in your Room of Requirement.

Sebastian swallowed, unsure of what he would find as he kneeled over the trunk and waved his wand. The lid clicked open and he lifted it, revealing some old clothes. Sebastian blinked. It all seemed rather anticlimactic. But as he lifted an old sweater from the top of the pile, he stilled.

The familiar S.S. initials were embroidered across the left breast. He had wondered what happened to this sweater and assumed it was lost in the laundry ages ago. Beneath it, was a scarf. His school scarf. 

At the very bottom of the trunk was a package – a small box wrapped in brown paper with your familiar scrawl in ink. You had written his name across the top.

Sebastian stared at it, as if lifting it from the trunk would shift the paradigm of his universe. But curiosity was Sebastian’s Achilles, and he soon found himself setting his old clothes aside for the package.

He brushed dust from the top of the wrapped box, his fingers tracing over his own name as if the ink you’d left would leech into his fingertips, absorbing you with it.

He treated the paper with the utmost care, peeling it slowly away from the box to ensure it wouldn’t tear. It revealed an old wooden box, unremarkable and unassuming. Sebastian turned it over carefully, the sounds of delicate glass tinkling from inside. Once he confirmed there were no markings or inscriptions on the box, he flipped it back over and snapped the top open.

Inside was a folded sheet of old parchment and a set of tiny glass vials, each filled with clear liquid. Dust clung to the vials, leaving Sebastian’s fingers dingy as he examined each one for clues revealing their contents. Each cylinder was labeled with a date so small, Sebastian had to squint to see them.

He set the box on the floor next to the trunk and carefully unfolded the old parchment with both hands. Again, your familiar handwriting revealed itself.

Dear Sebastian,

Happy birthday! Please view these pensieve memories on your own time, in private. You’ll understand once you see them. Then come find me when you feel the time is right, no pressure. 

Love always, Your kindred spirit

Sebastian smiled. Your voice echoed in his mind and ears, like you were reading the letter aloud right next to him. He hadn’t smiled at the memory of you since you died.

Instead, his grief had crawled into every crevice of his brain and body, constricting him into a body bind of immobilizing heartache. It clamped down on his veins and arteries and cut off his blood supply. His brain screamed for some semblance of life. It left his nerve endings void of all sensation and pooled in the pit of his stomach, an omnipresent offering of torment and guilt.

Sebastian scrambled to his feet, cradling the box in his arm as if it contained the most important secrets in the world. To him, it did.

He scurried from the Room of Requirement and retreated back to the Undercroft, now grateful for its quiet seclusion. He set the box carefully on a table and sorted through each vial until he found the one with the earliest date.

After he uncorked it, his hand shook as it hovered above the pensieve. Its swirling liquid seemed to beckon him, pleading for memories to resurrect it back to life. But Sebastian hesitated, fearful for what lay on the other side of this moment.

He trusted you more than anyone, but you clearly had meant for these memories to remain a secret until the right moment. Sebastian was sure you’d packaged them up under the assumption you’d be alive for his birthday. What if your death had changed everything and these memories were supposed to die with you?

The last thing Sebastian wanted was to betray or dishonor you. Your life had been so full of intention – from your determination to stop Ranrok to your sincere endeavors to help cure Anne’s curse. Sebastian wanted to preserve your memory with love and admiration. But these were his memories now. You’d wanted to share them with him and he would honor that, no matter their contents, no matter the cost.

Sebastian tipped the vial and watched a single drop ripple across the pensieve’s surface. It glimmered and swirled, stirring wispy trails in its gentle wakes. Sebastian didn’t wait to plunge his face in.

More smoke swept past him and he hurtled straight into the Slytherin Common Room. He immediately spotted himself, pacing in front of the fireplace with his nose in a book. He recognized this moment better than his own wand. 

And then you appeared. You paused behind the sofa and watched Sebastian curiously. He had never noticed that. Your eyes studied him until he finally looked up from his book.

Sebastian had to watch himself meet you for the first time all over again. It tugged at his heartstrings, twisting and tightening them inside his chest. You were right there, mere feet from him, but he couldn’t reach out and touch you.

He watched as you introduced yourself and smiled as you inquired about his book. He told you not every useful spell could be found in assigned textbooks, to which you expressed your intrigue. And that was when Sebastian declared you kindred spirits; the phrase that would connect the two of you by an unseen thread for life.

Sebastian was uncertain why you chose to return him to this particular memory. He remembered it far too fondly to need a refresher. But as he watched your first meeting come to an end, he noticed as you walked away and paused to turn, your gaze lingering on his form long after he had returned his attention to his book. 

He hadn’t known that happened.

The memory ended and thrust him back to the Undercroft, where Sebastian stilled to process your replay of your first meeting. What was he meant to take away from such a simple moment? Of course, the events that followed had been anything but simple. You became the most complex person to ever enter Sebastian’s life.

He fumbled quickly through the remaining vials for the next and wasted no time tapping another drop into the pensieve. This memory seemed to shimmer and sparkle as it dispersed across the pensieve’s cloudy waters. Sebastian drew a breath and dipped his head.

This one was clearly Christmastime. You, Sebastian and Ominis were cozied up in the common room. You were seated between the two boys on the sofa, a blanket thrown across your lap while you clutched a mug of cocoa in your hand. Ominis looked relaxed, a rare change from his typical poise. Sebastian slouched lazily in his seat, a box of Bertie Bott’s Every Flavour Beans in his lap. The fire crackled as you laughed at one of Ominis’ dry remarks, though your eyes were on Sebastian.

He watched as you smiled at his pensieve form, warmth radiating from your gaze. Your lips curved as you teased him about his tousled hair, to which he became indignant and tossed a jelly bean at you. You squealed and nearly splashed your cocoa on Ominis, who squawked in displeasure.

You picked up the jelly bean and chucked it back at Sebastian, who caught it and popped it in his mouth before his features contorted in disgust.

“I think that one was dirt-flavored,” he whined. 

“Good, serves you right,” you declared happily. Sebastian’s pensieve version reached toward you to give your hair a sharp, playful tug. You swatted his hand away and laughed wildly, all while Ominis chided you and Sebastian for making a mess.

It was another moment Sebastian had committed to his own reserve of memories with clarity and fondness. But again, your version was different. 

This time, he noticed the way you noticed him. Your eyes never left him, even when Ominis spoke. You leaned closer to him, your body nearly touching his when you teased him. And then there was the moment your hands brushed – completely innocuous – but Sebastian noticed the way your breath hitched and your cheeks flushed. His did the same.

He watched as Ominis yawned and declared it was time for bed. Your mutual friend said goodnight and disappeared toward the boys’ dormitories, leaving you and Sebastian’s pensieve form in each other’s company.

The pair sat and talked quietly, an occasional giggle interrupting your murmurs, until the fire waned to soft embers and you dozed off on his shoulder. That was one of Sebastian’s favorite memories.

But he remembered the subtle smell of your hair, the warmth of your body and the soft breaths that sighed from your lips during your slumber. He didn’t remember what happened once he fell asleep.

And so he watched as the memory shifted like a leap in time, and then you stirred, likely in the middle of the night. You lifted your head and peered upward at Sebastian, smiling as you watched him sleep. Your chest swelled and eyes softened until you gently returned your head to his shoulder until the morning.

As the memory came to a close, Sebastian began to wonder. What were you trying to tell him? What did those stolen glances and secret smiles mean? 

The third memory surged inside the pensieve when the liquid met the surface. This one stirred a storm of dark and volatile streaks, which made Sebastian scared to see its contents. But once again, he dipped his head with bated breath.

He recognized the Feldcroft catacomb immediately. And in a sudden rush, he watched himself sprint past, toward the exit. Sebastian couldn’t forget this moment if he tried – and he often did.

“Sebastian!” you cried as you jogged into view. Tears streamed down your cheeks and your face was bleeding from your fight with Solomon. You begged Sebastian to stop, but he was far too gone – in every sense of the phrase – to even acknowledge you.

Shame surged through Sebastian as he relived one of the worst moments of his life. He followed after you as you pleaded with his pensieve version to wait until you eventually stopped calling his name.

But when you reached the exit, the memory shifted and Sebastian was thrust to your dormitory. This scene was new to him. 

His expression fell as he watched you sink to the floor, your body hitching with violent sobs. Your hair was still disheveled, robes torn and tattered, and blood streaked across your cheek from the fight in the catacomb. Sebastian had never seen you so anguished. The sight would haunt him the same way your death would. 

He stood in the corner of the room, tears welling in his eyes as he watched you unravel, scared and alone. You sobbed so hard your chest heaved and your stomach lurched. 

The scene blurred again until Sebastian was returned to the Undercroft, this time as a voyeur. He caught his breath as he watched you plead with Ominis to refrain from turning him in for killing Solomon. 

“I don’t want to lose Sebastian, but I don’t think we have a choice,” Ominis said. 

“We do have a choice,” you insisted. “What good would it do if we turn him in now? He clearly regrets everything. He’s not going to do anything like this again.”

“We both heard that before,” Ominis argued. 

“But we also need to think about Anne. She’s lost her health. Now she’s lost her uncle. Do you really want to take her brother away from her too?” you pushed. 

When Ominis finally relented, Sebastian watched as more tears streamed over your cheeks. Your eyes were empty, no longer brimming with your bold energy. Sebastian had drained it from you. The realization shattered his heart. 

“You really care about him, don’t you?” Ominis asked you. 

“I care about them both,” you answered. “I know Anne doesn’t much care for me, but Sebastian needs her… and I need him.”

“You love him, don’t you?” Ominis asked quietly. 

You nodded in response. “I do.”

Ominis sighed, though it was evident he wasn’t surprised by your revelation. You and Sebastian were as clear as diamonds — and as hard as them, too. As much as it frustrated Ominis, he knew it was also what made the two of you so simpatico. You understood Sebastian on a profound level few others could even scrape.

“You’ve got to save him,” Ominis whispered. “He can’t save himself. He’s too far gone. You have to be the one to help him. You’re the only one.”

You nodded in understanding, your cheeks now raw and red from the salty sting of your tears. 

“I will,” you said softly. “I love him too much to lose him to this.”

The memory ended and Sebastian swished back to the Undercroft, now in its present state. He gripped the edge of the pensieve to hold himself upright, its cold stone pressed hard against his fingers. He was crying now, his breath shaky as he fought for air. 

His legs gave way and he collapsed to the floor on his knees, his body bent in child’s pose as he choked on his own sobs. He remained there until his bones seemed to disintegrate. His body felt like a vacant home left to rot into ruins.

You loved him. He watched you admit it. You loved him, and you fought for him. When others wanted to give up on him, you were ready to step closer. You vowed to save him because he had meant that much to you. 

And you had succeeded. Because once your fifth year ended, you inserted yourself to Sebastian’s side, an extension of his own body. You resurrected him from the cavernous clutches of dark magic and desperation, and revived him with renewed energy. You let him lean on you in the days that followed Solomon’s death. You talked him through his guilt and reminded him he was worthy of a good life that shouldn’t be defined by his past. You refused to allow him to punish himself, but ensured he was remorseful for what he did. You showed him what it meant to become redemption. 

Your empathy and understanding nursed Sebastian back to his old form – the charming, friendly and resourceful boy he was before your fifth year – the boy you had never even met. You were his savior, not because you needed another person to rescue, but because saving Sebastian from himself also saved you.  

After all the evil you’d endured, you needed to believe that people could still be good. You needed reassurance that light could still outshine dark. And you needed to know if your love would be enough for someone, even if it wasn’t reciprocated.

Because the one thing that saved you and Sebastian Sallow both was your best shared attribute: your optimism. 

Sebastian lay curled up on the floor of the Undercroft for a good hour. He was overcome with grief, guilt and regret, and they all clashed at once, straining his heart until he was certain it would sever inside his chest.

What if he had simply told you he loved you? Maybe it wouldn’t have prevented your death, but at least you would have known. At least you would have died with a full heart and the comfort that the boy you cared about the most needed you in all the same ways. 

And selfishly, maybe you would have told Sebastian you loved him, too. 

When silence returned to the Undercroft after Sebastian’s sobs subsided, he sat up, his weight supported back on his hands. There was still one vial remaining.

He wasn’t sure he had the energy to witness any more monumental memories, but truly, he had no choice. He wouldn’t rest until he understood every message you were trying to send him. He owed you that, at the very least.

Sebastian gathered himself up off the floor to retrieve the last vial. He was cool and clammy, which caused him to grip the vial particularly hard amid concern he would drop it. As he tilted it over the pensieve with a shaking hand, it splashed and shimmered streaks of gold that reminded him of sun rays.

He recognized this memory instantly. It had taken place a week before you died. The two of you snuck out of the castle to explore another old cave. You weren’t looking for anything in particular, other than an adventure. Sometimes, the two of you merely created your own expeditions for old time’s sake.

This one led you all the way to the Clagmar Coast. Once you determined the cave housed nothing more than a chest of old spectacles, you and Sebastian decided to sit and watch the stars under the cover of the cave’s secluded opening. It overlooked the sea, which shimmered beneath the moon. You could hear the churns of the waves smashing into the cliffside below, but not even the surf’s rumble could drown out the slamming heart inside your chest.

You hugged your knees as you sat close enough to Sebastian that you could feel his warmth. The salt air whipped through your hair and he laughed as you struggled to keep it in place, finally admitting defeat when it plastered itself to your face.

Sebastian watched as you shivered. He had chided you for wearing only a knit jumper, even though he had done the same. What he hadn’t known was that your shivers weren’t from the cold. As so when he draped an arm around you and pulled you close against his body to keep you warm, your own body shuddered more. You welcomed its response because it meant he’d hold you even tighter. You did this more often than you’d ever admit – sometimes you pretended to be cold just so Sebastian would hold you.

Sebastian had dwelled on this memory at a damn near obsessive rate. His head had become a vast vault of moments with you, each one stored away in meticulous order that would make Madam Scribner proud. But this one sat on the nearest shelf, within easy reach so that he could call upon it often.

He hadn’t known it would be one of his final fond memories of you. 

But again, your version was different.

Because this variant exposed everything. The moonlight cast itself over your eyes, which softened every time Sebastian glanced at you. But as you snuggled closer to him, Sebastian watched as you squeezed them shut. They looked like a camera shutter, committing the moment to the film inside your head.

And then you stole one more glance up at Sebastian’s pensieve form and your eyes screamed louder than the waves below. You gazed at your freckled friend with so much love, it made Sebastian’s chest cave as he watched.

You didn’t speak. You didn’t utter the words that were perched on the tip of your tongue. You didn’t have to. Neither of you did. 

Finally, Sebastian understood. 

That was the beauty of it all. For all of your unspoken words, your silent declarations, and your desperate desires, you were both enough. 

You and Sebastian adored each other in secret and in silence. But you lived and loved out loud. 

And though you both wished you could have experienced that love to its full extent and in its truest form – raw, real and unrestrained – what you did share was enough.

So when Sebastian returned to the Undercroft for the final time, the last of your pensieve memories complete, he sank back to the floor with his back pressed against the wall.

Because even though he understood now, even though he realized he’d always carried your love, he was in mourning.

He mourned the romance you’d never have. He mourned your future cut short by the sharp, cruel blade of an unfair fate. And he mourned your memories – all of them – because this wasn’t how you’d intended him to see them. 

He was supposed to view them and then sprint to you. Had you been alive, he likely would have found you tucked away in a quiet corner of the library or en route to the Three Broomsticks for butterbeers with Poppy and Natty. He would have chased you down and told you he’d seen all the memories. He would have told you he loved you, too. The two of you would have laughed at how silly you’d been. And then he would have kissed you and stolen you away from whatever endeavor you had going on to make up for lost time.

But now, you’d lost more than time and nothing would make up for it. It would gnaw away at Sebastian forever. 

But the worst part was he couldn’t save you. He could return to your memories to see you again, but he couldn’t touch you, couldn’t feel you, couldn’t speak with you or reach out to pull you to safety. He couldn’t bring you back.

Soon, those memories would be gone, too. The vials you left were no bigger than Sebastian’s index finger. They’d run empty if he revisited the pensieve too often. He hated how he had to ration you like this. You loved each other. He deserved you with boundless abundance.

And though you’d found a way to tell him how you felt, he would never have the chance to tell you. He silently prayed you somehow secretly knew, but you deserved more than the cowardice of unspoken words. You deserved a loud and vibrant love, obnoxious to those who envied you and beautiful to those who understood you.

And then Sebastian realized. 

He scurried from the Undercroft, your vials left in their box to be retrieved later. Right now, he had to get to you.

You were buried just south of Hogsmeade, near the observation platform that overlooked the South Hogwarts region and the castle. It was your favorite place, because you said it presented you with a perfect view of home and everything you loved. 

When Sebastian reached your grave, he fell to his knees before it. Tears returned to his eyes and he choked back a sob.

“I saw them,” he sputtered. “I saw everything – all of your pensieve memories. I wish you’d told me. I wish we could have known how it felt to be together. And I wish I could have told you how much I love you, too.”

And then he wept. He wept for himself, for you, and for the universe that had to continue its existence without the privilege of your presence. 

He cried until every emotion had poured itself from his eyes into the soil of your grave. He prayed his tears would seep six feet under and find their way to you. You had given him your tears – they now sat in those tiny little vials that Sebastian would treasure forever. The least he could do was gift you with his, even if it was his birthday.

He stopped celebrating for good that year, electing to instead spend every birthday returning to your pensieve memories until one day, those were gone, too. 

[star-reaper]

Sebastian Sallow x Reader (Drabble) — Winter Warmth

Synopsis: Winter has fallen upon the Scottish Highlands, blanketing Hogwarts in all of it's frosted glory. Sebastian is ecstatic as the mercury descends lower and lower— you, on the other hand, well, let's just say you could do with a few more layers and all of the warmth you can muster to steal from your doting boyfriend.

Established relationship, takes place 7th year/aged up characters, space heater boyfriend and ice cube girlfriend trope, fem!reader, fluff, fluff and more fluff, enchanted scarves, and me projecting how much I fkn hate winter.

You can't deny that the fresh cover of snow is just as lovely as it is cold. It encapsulates the grounds of the school on every surface, draping over the looming turrets and towers and glittering in the peachy morning sunlight. The cobblestone paths and courtyards are cloaked with frost and ice, and the Great Lake, now frozen, reflects the silvery sky and the pale rose of the sunrise.

Truly, it is beautiful, and maybe if you weren't such an avid hater of this frigid, dark, long season . . . perhaps you would enjoy it more.

But the chill seeps through your robes so cold it's practically burning, frozen fingers shoved deep in your pockets and shoulders shrugged up to your ears. You'd only been outside of the warm confines of the castle for a few minutes, yet despite your warm layers and thick house scarf, you still found yourself swearing at the biting wind.

You longed to be back in your common room, cozied up beside the large fireplace with a book and a warm drink but alas, Sebastian had other plans. With Quidditch season wrapping up along with the fall months, there were few more training sessions left and Sebastian was adamant on being there to support his peers. Not making the team for his final year of Hogwarts was a heavy blow for him, but the boy was determined to find a way to still enjoy the sport.

So, here you are, tracking through the snow in the early hours of December towards the Quidditch pitch, where you promised to meet your boyfriend to watch the team practice together. You'd both been swamped with exams and papers the last few weeks, leaving hardly any time to spend together besides crashing into the Great Hall to sit beside each other for meals and the occasional drop in to the Undercroft with Ominis.

Unlike you, Sebastian absolutely adores the colder weather. He's filled with excitement for the Holidays and glittering with joy like the morning frost that enamors him. It's hard to not at least look forward to his enchanted moods if not for anything else when the mercury drops this low.

You find that even casting basic warming charms isn't enough to keep you from shivering this morning, wishing desperately for an extra layer of clothing. Your teeth clatter together clumsily no matter how hard to try to stop them.

The quidditch pitch in sight and the whipping sounds of billowing robes in the sky have you quickening your step and your eyes scan the open space for the brunet. He stands just on the edge of the pitch beside the first row of bleachers, elbow propped up on the barricade as he bickers with Imelda teasingly as she flies overhead on her broom, eyes rolling light heartedly.

He turns at the sound of your boots crunching in the snow, that charming smile of his creeping across his face before he pushes himself off the barricade towards you.

"Hey, darling." He says, bowing his head to press a quick kiss to your cheek, his hands buried deep in the pockets of his dark robes. Despite his hot-bloodedness, Sebastian himself is layered in as many warm sets of clothing as you are, a Slytherin scarf tucked snuggly into his vest and a patterned wool coat unbuttoned atop his outfit.

"It's bloody freezing out here." You complain, leaning into his warmth as he chuckles light-heartedly at your scowl.

"Not too bad," Sebastian denies, "Practice will probably run short today anyway, won't have to stand it for too long."

You watch as the players pass the quaffle back and forth through their formations, running positional drills at incomprehensible speeds. Their green uniforms go by as mere flashes of color, winds whipping in their wake. Sebastian pulls you into his side, arm across your shoulders and you nearly sigh aloud at the heat radiating off of him. It takes all your strength to stop the tremors racking your body, you know he'll fret about you if he realizes how cold you truly are. As much as you'd love to be inside by the fire, you'd hate for him to miss out on this because of you.

"Are you warm enough?" He asks, dark brows furrowed in concern.

You turn to smile up at him assuringly, "I'm alright." You nod, but he's already turning to face you, pulling your hands from your pockets to cradle between his own.

"You're a bad liar," He chides, "Your hands are like ice!" He brings your hands together to his mouth, cupping his own around yours before blowing warm air against your fingers, lips parted just slightly. Sebastian gazes down at you with nothing short of adoration, taking care of you as he always does and you're practically melting in his hold. Warmth curls in your stomach and you have to look away to avoid blushing.

You wiggle your newly thawed fingers in his grasp, humming your content before he's pulling you in and wrapping your arms around his torso under his coat, tucking your hands into the pocket of warmth between his layers.

"Oh my god," You groan, eyes nearly rolling into the back of your head, "How are you so hot?"

"While I'm flattered, my love, we do happen to be in public." He teases, wrapping his arms around your back to press you into his chest, enveloping you in his distinctly smokey-sage aroma. You pinch his side beratingly, though it ends up being mostly fabric and you can't help but laugh.

Together you watch the rest of quidditch practice, cheering on team mates and laughing while they goof off on their brooms. Some of the players are flushed red in the face due to the cold whipping at their skin, others seem unbothered by the chill. It's not long before they begin wrapping up, putting away equipment and high-fiving each other as they gather their things. Sebastian and you bid goodbye to everyone, still pressed as close as you can muster before filtering off the pitch with everyone else.

"How does breakfast sound?" You ask Sebastian, wrapping an arm around his bicep as you walk.

"Maybe something small. We could grab something from the Hall and take it to the Room of Requirement."

"Hoping to get me all to yourself, Sallow?" You tease, smirking up at him with a challenge.

Sebastian shrugs smugly, "Oh please, all I'd have to do is ask nicely."

You bounce your shoulder into his, laughing. "Well? Are you gonna ask then?"

Sebastian rolls his eyes, "Well, now," he draws out the word, "I don't want to." He turns his head from you childishly, puffing his chest up ridiculously and huffing.

"Fine, I'll ask then. Could we get breakfast and spend some time alone together and possibly never leave the Room of Requirement again?" You think for a moment, then ammend, "Well, at least not until summer. When it's warm out again."

Sebastian smiles, "If you insist."

The pastries you all but snatch off the tables in the Great Hall are warm and fresh, wrapped delicately in napkins and bundled up in your arms as you make your way to the secret room together. Sebastian holds two mugs of steaming hot chocolate, charmed to stay warm for the venture.

You push the door open as soon as it appears, a fire is already flaming next to the big gothic windows, the snowy landscape shining brightly through the stained glass. A burgundy settee is placed in front of it, adorned with plush blankets and pillows and a side table for all your treats.

Sebastian places the mugs down and shrugs off his layers, leaving him in his school jumper and pleated pants, House crest proudly embroidered on his chest. You follow suit before crashing onto the couch next to him, knees tucking into your chest as you practically burrow yourself into his side, slipping your socked feet under the warm blankets and sighing dramatically. Sebastian passes you an unwrapped pastry before taking one for himself, stretching his arm around you and settling into the furniture.

"Merlin, isn't this great? I mean, just think; if it were summer we'd be sweating right now. We'd have to sit on opposite ends of the couch and you'd still be whining about me being too hot." He remarks after a bite.

You consider before shrugging. "Okay, maybe. But could we just spend the rest of winter indoors?"

Sebastian chuckles before pressing a kiss to your lips, hand cupping the nape of your neck and tangling in the hair that lay there.

You lean into him, fingers slipping under the hem of his jumper before trailing up his warm body to rest on his broad chest. The muscles ripple under your cold touch, and you feel him flinch away from you before grasping at your wrists, his lips smiling against yours

"Bloody hell! Your hands are too cold, stop stealing my body heat!" He chastises, but you're giggling and fighting against his hold, pressing your fingers back beneath the warmth of his clothes. You know if he really meant it that he's more than strong enough to hold you back, but instead he appeases you, although he yelps helplessly when you make contact with his chest again.

Suddenly, his warm breath is in the crook of your neck and he's pushing you down into the couch, settling his body weight on top of you and nestling under the blankets against your body. You wrap your arms around his torso and tangle your legs into his, closing your eyes and relishing in his affections.

He huffs a deep, relaxed breath and grins against your skin, "Okay, perhaps I could be convinced to stay here until summer."

"That sounds perfect to me." You say, reaching a hand up to twist into the curling locks of his hair, scratching gently at his scalp. He groans softly at the sensation, rocking his head back and forth against your fingers like a dog begging for pets.

It isn't long before you're both drifting to sleep, eyes slipping closed and breaths slow and even. You spend the day just like that, tangled up together in your secret hiding spot, laughing and cuddling and talking quietly amongst each other until you find something better to do.

The next few days pass just as cold and snowy as the first, but on the third day you receive a lovely wrapped surprise at breakfast. Inside the box sits a lovely matching set of mittens and a scarf knitted of soft, cozy fabric in your favorite color. Under it, a hand written note from yours truly, the scrawl messy and parchment crinkled;

"For your damned icicle fingers! Charmed to keep you warm even in negative temperatures.

Your handsome, marvelous, thoughtful, caring, and unbelievably intelligent boyfriend,

Sebastian

P.S. before you ask, yes I suppose you can keep using me as your personal heater as well . . . "

[hogwartslegacyreactions2]

HLC REACT TO MC ASKING FOR A KISS 💋

A/N: because consent is sexy

SEBASTIAN SALLOW: He gives MC a devilish smirk. "I don't know. Do you deserve one? My kisses are quite special. Wouldn't want you spoiled rotten on them, would you?" He chuckles at MC's pout and gently holds their face. "I'm only joking, MC. Of course you can have one." He gently kisses their lips.

OMINIS GAUNT: He smiles warmly. He loves it when they ask. He could almost feel their anticipation for an answer. He leans in close, his hand guiding him to MC's chin. He traces their lips with his thumb. "Your kisses are like a breath of fresh air in this rotten world." He kisses them before he starts waxing poetic.

ANNE SALLOW: No matter how long they've been in a relationship, she still gets a little pink when MC asks for her kiss. She coyly kisses their cheek. "What? Was that not what you wanted?" She breaks out in a fit of giggles when MC tries kissing her lips and she keeps turning her head to make them miss.

IMELDA REYES: "Hmm...I guess." She shrugs and gives them a peck on the lips. She'll leave them at that unless MC takes a more assertive approach. If they grab her before she walks away, she can be convinced to give them more.

NATSAI ONAI: "As if you have to ask." She's an enthusiastic kisser. What could be just a request for a simple sweet kiss can become a hot and bothered make out very quickly if MC doesn't reign her in. She'll kiss MC breathless every chance she gets.

GARRETH WEASLEY: He feels all giddy inside when MC asks to kiss him. He's happy they want him. He's happy they desire him. He's just happy! "Come here, you!" His kisses can be a bit sloppy but in a fun way. If he misses their lips, that's okay. He wanted to kiss them there anyway.

LEANDER PREWETT: "A true gentleman always obliges." He takes MC's hand and kisses it first. Then he kisses their cheek, then lips. If he can do all of that without messing it up, he considers it a win. He wants to impress. Maybe they'll give him more kisses if he does well.

AMIT THAKKAR: His heart beats fast, his knees feel weak, palms sweaty. MC wants to kiss him. He's done it before. It's not a big deal, right? They must have liked the last one to ask for another. His might stand there a bit too long processing what MC just asked. MC may have to take matters into their own hands and kiss him before he loses his nerve.

EVERETT CLOPTON: No hesitation. The words barely finish leaving MC's mouth before he connects his lips to theirs. It's a good long kiss, too. He loves the taste of them. He's addicted. Please, keep kissing him.

POPPY SWEETING: She smiles so big and launches herself into their arms. The best kisses in the world are from MC holding her in their arms. They'll have to be careful. She may kiss MC dizzy and they'll fall over.

[itsasilentreader]

ᯓᡣ𐭩 𝐌𝐲 𝐨𝐧𝐥𝐲 𝐠𝐢𝐫𝐥 ― 𝐒𝐞𝐛𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐚𝐧 𝐒𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐨𝐰

𝙋𝙖𝙞𝙧𝙞𝙣𝙜: Sebastian Sallow x F!Slytherin!reader

𝙂𝙚𝙣𝙧𝙚: fluff, just a little bit of angst sprinkled in here

𝙒𝙤𝙧𝙙𝙘𝙤𝙪𝙣𝙩: 3.4K — 23 𝙢𝙞𝙣 𝙧𝙚𝙖𝙙

𝙏𝙒/𝘾𝙒: alcohol/drug consumption, suggestive dialogue, maybe some curse words? idk anymore

Characters are aged up, 18+.

𝘼/𝙉: Use of Y/N, there are some descriptions about the outfit of the reader but if you want to imagine a different outfit, please do! I tried to write a reader who is more self-assured in her relationship because I like to read that once in a while. Also, English is not my first language, so please ignore all the grammatical errors in this one. I’m still editing and learning how to write dialogue so please bear with me!

⤷ 𝘝𝘪𝘰𝘭𝘦𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘬𝘴 𝘴𝘩𝘦 𝘤𝘢𝘯 𝘨𝘦𝘵 𝘚𝘦𝘣𝘢𝘴𝘵𝘪𝘢𝘯 𝘪𝘯 𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘣𝘦𝘥 𝘢𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘦𝘯𝘥 𝘰𝘧 𝘢 𝘚𝘭𝘺𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘪𝘯 𝘱𝘢𝘳𝘵𝘺, 𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘭𝘪𝘵𝘵𝘭𝘦 𝘥𝘰𝘦𝘴 𝘴𝘩𝘦 𝘬𝘯𝘰𝘸 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘩𝘦 𝘪𝘴 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘣𝘰𝘺𝘧𝘳𝘪𝘦𝘯𝘥 𝘸𝘩𝘰𝘴𝘦 𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘵 𝘪𝘴 𝘴𝘦𝘵 𝘰𝘯 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘰𝘯𝘭𝘺 𝘺𝘰𝘶.

⋮ 𝗠𝗮𝘀𝘁𝗲𝗿𝗹𝗶𝘀𝘁

It was finally Friday night and as per usual, one of the houses was throwing a party. As it was agreed to rotate every week, it was now time for Slytherin to host again.

You got ready with Natty and Imelda in the dorm room you shared with Imelda. As you were still deciding on an outfit and trying different pieces of clothing on, Poppy entered your room, out of breath.

“Sorry, I know I’m late and I see you are almost ready. But I have a good enough reason to be late.” Imelda rolled her eyes, before focusing back on her make-up.

Poppy gave her a light (friendly) shove as she walked past her towards your bed. “Oh stop that, will you.”

She set down her make-up bag and clothing before turning towards you. “Okay first of all, if you’re going with that green top you should wear that black skirt you got last month.” You looked at her through the mirror and nodded to her.

“I guess you’re right, let me change into a skirt.” You turned towards your closet. Poppy nods and sits down.

“Okay, the reason why I’m late is because I overheard Violet on my way here.”

This causes all three heads to turn towards Poppy. Imelda had eyeliner on only one eye as she stared at Poppy to continue.

“If it caused you to be 20 minutes late, this should be something interesting,” Natty spoke up from the floor next to your bed, her eyes fixed on the mirror while doing her hair.

“It is,” Poppy nodded, “Okay, so you know how obsessed Violet is with Sebastian?” You scoff and give her a pointed look.

“Even Ominis can see that and that kid is blind.” You turn your attention back to your closet and continue to look for the black skirt you want to try on with the top. Poppy rolls her eyes at your comment.

“Anyways, she said she is so sure she can get him into her bed by the end of the night. Seems like she really wants to make her move on him tonight.”

This causes the girls to stop their movements and stare at Poppy. Imelda closes the cap on her eyeliner pen and speaks up, “So… she really doesn’t know Sebastian is in a committed relationship and head over heels for our lovely Y/N here?”

“Well, she did mention it is always difficult to talk to him because he is always with Y/N. Even went as far as to say that she doesn’t understand why he puts up with you” Poppy replied, the last part directed towards you.

“That little-” you huff out when you turn around, skirt in hand. Changing into the skirt, and sighing when you think over the words Poppy just said.

“I mean, we didn’t come out as a couple you know, so I’m not surprised she doesn’t actually know we’re together. And it is not like we act differently around each other now we are together. Besides, everyone already assumed we were.”

You smooth out the skirt and hum in approval of your outfit. “Yeah, everyone but Violet”. Natty says.

“She even admits it is hard to talk to him because he’s always with you. Besides the point that he is your boyfriend, doesn’t she know he is not interested in her?” she continues, “Even before you came to Hogwarts in our fifth year, he always tried to avoid her at all costs. She is so overbearing.”

You sigh and walk over to your bed after approving your outfit. “Knowing Violet she probably wants to do it publicly so I would know she claimed him.” You sit down next to Poppy on your bed and start putting on your make-up.

“Everything we do is a competition in her head, so this would be the same.” Poppy shifts on the bed and turns to you. “We all know Sebastian only has eyes for you, you don’t need to worry about that.” She smiles softly at you as she opens her make-up bag to quickly get ready.

“I know, I’m just a little worried about how far Violet will go.” Natty looks up to you from her seat on the floor. “You know we will hex her if she does something out of line”, you snort at her comment. “Imelda is just dying to do it for you, you know.” Natty says while Imelda smirks proudly.

“Okay enough about that ugly shade of purple,” you turn your attention to Poppy. “Are you finally making your move on Garreth tonight?” Poppy gasped lightly and shook her head. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” only the blush spreading on her cheeks is telling you otherwise.

“He asked if you were coming tonight” You looked into your hand mirror and applied your eyeshadow. “He did?” Poppy squeaked out. Clearing her throat she asked again, “He did?” Imelda locks eyes with you and smirks as you try to contain your laughter.

“Sooo…” She drags out, “I guess Y/N isn’t the only one going back to the dorms with someone tonight”. Poppy glared at her and scoffed. “Just let us know how it was in the morning, I am kinda curious about his dick,” Imelda commented nonchalantly. This causes you and Natty to bark out a laugh while

Poppy stutters over her words. “Imelda, you’re gay.” Imelda barks out a laugh, before replying, “So? I might munch muff but I still acknowledge Garreth is easy on the eyes.”

Poppy just huffs and focuses on her make-up. She mumbles something under her breath but Imelda drowns it out when she laughs at Poppy’s reaction again.

As you walk down to your common room, you can already feel the bass vibrating the walls. Muffled voices and music are heard down the hall and you are in desperate need of a shot, or two.

You are sure Sebastian wouldn’t do anything to hurt you or jeopardize your relationship, but you still feel a bit uneasy because you know Violet will do anything to get what she wants.

As Imelda opens de door to the common room, you are met with a full house and someone sneakily pushing past you into the common room. You couldn’t see exactly who it was, as they already disappeared in the crowd.

The party is in full swing and fire whisky is flowing richly. You spot Garreth already, with some other Hufflepuff girl next to the fireplace. It seems like he already started mixing the fire whiskey and Mallowsweet.

You can see Poppy’s facial expression fall when she follows your sight. It is no secret she is attracted to the red-headed Gryffindor. Poppy rolls her eyes and drags you with her to look for a bottle of fire whiskey. “I need a shot!” She yells over the music.

The other two girls follow and eventually get caught up by others and their conversations. You have yet to spot your boyfriend. While searching the room for his presence, Poppy helps you and herself to a shot of fire whiskey.

After tasting the burning alcohol at the back of your throat, Poppy seems to have poured herself already a second shot. Filling up your glass, you both took another shot. Poppy seems to be in her head as she pours another one.

“Okay hold on Pops, I think we should slow down on the shots after this one”. You pry the bottle out of her hands and pour yourself one last shot. “Last one,” Poppy said and downed it. “For now.” she mumbles after taking the shot.

The night went on and there is still no sign of your boyfriend. Suddenly you spot Ominis standing against the wall and walk up to him. “Have you seen Sebastian?”, you ask after you greet your friend. He shakes his head and takes a sip of his drink.

“He went to the bathroom a while ago, seems like he hasn’t found his way back yet.” You sigh and lean against the wall next to Ominis. “Don’t worry, he’ll be back soon.”

“He better be,” you grumble next to your friend. “It’s just, Poppy overheard Violet and I just don’t want to see what she has planned tonight to get with Sebastian.”

Ominis laughs at your comment and shakes his head. “That girl is as daft as a brush”. You chuckle at his remark and nod along, even though he can’t see it. “I know, let me know if you find him will you?” Ominis nods and lets you go on your way.

You walk back towards Poppy and see her finally talking to Garreth. It seems like they only have eyes for each other. The other Hufflepuff girl is long forgotten, as is her annoyance with Garreth from before.

You watch how Poppy giggles at something Garreth says and slaps his chest. His hand comes up to hold her hand there and leans in slightly to hear her better. Her cheeks turn red when she notices Garreth leaning into her, her eyes widening a bit but her smile never falters.

You decide to search for your other friends as you walk by Violet. Her presence alone is enough to annoy you, but hearing her shrill voice greeting you makes it even more unbearable. You turn towards her and give her a fake smile as you try not to roll your eyes.

“How lovely to see you this evening, but I have noticed you’re not glued to Sebastian’s side. Did he get bored of you already?” She smirks and cocks her head slightly to the side. You scoff slightly and cross your arms. “Is there another reason you keep talking to me about Sebastian or are you just that obsessed?”

You see her eyes narrow slightly, seems like you’ve hit a nerve. “You know, I just don’t know why he keeps being friends with you. I mean, you always follow him around like a lost puppy. Is it still not obvious that he doesn’t want to be more than friends?” Her expression turns into a sympathetic one, albeit a fake one.

“And what makes you think Sebastian and I aren’t together already?” You feign innocence as you ask her the question. Curious as to what she will answer you take a step closer to the dark-haired girl.

“I mean, you said it yourself earlier. We are always together, glued to each other’s sides. Who knows what goes down behind closed doors.” This causes Violet to scoff loudly.

“You really think he would choose you?” she rather states instead of asking. You shrug innocently, awaiting her next move. Of course, you know for a fact that he would 100% choose you.

“I know for sure he needs someone who can challenge him, and of course, please him like he should be pleased,” Violet smirked at you. “Don’t you think?”, she taunted at you while tilting her head.

Just the thought of her hands all over Sebastian made your stomach hurl, but hearing her imply that she thinks she knows how to please your boyfriend makes your blood boil.

You scoff at her comment and roll your eyes. “Let me guess, you think you are the one who can do exactly that hm?”

Her eyes narrow slightly while her smirk falters at the tone of your voice. It is sharp enough to take hers down a nudge.

Violet tries to hide her annoyance on her face, “We both know who he would choose when it comes down to both of us. Some are just,” Violet chooses her next words wisely, “better than others.” Shrugging her shoulders, she feigns innocence. The smirk reappears on her face.

This remark causes other students to stop their conversation and turn their attention to the altercation between the two Slytherins. Because of the small commotion that ensues, Imelda and Poppy appear next to you.

Your eyebrows shot up at her comment. Before you could throw an insult at her, Imelda beats you to it. “At least Y/N doesn’t need to desperately throw herself at someone, just to get a smidge of attention.” That should knock her down a peg.

Poppy just nods along with Imelda’s comment. Imelda is not one to hold her tongue, sharp as ever. It is not always celebrated but it can sure come in handy in times like these.

Her eyes narrowed again before spotting someone, be it your boyfriend, walking towards the commotion. Her sour expression disappears and a sickly sweet smile paints her lips. “ Well, well, well, speak of the devil,” her voice turning into a syrupy sweet one, replacing the ice-cold one she uses to speak with you.

“Hey, handsome.” When Sebastian is close enough, her manicured hand shoots out to place it on his bicep to greet him. Slightly squeezing his bicep as she steps closer to him all while batting her eyes seductively.

“This girl has no shame.” Imelda murmurs to you and Poppy.

His eyes follow her hand and frowns a little. “What is going on here? Ominis told me you girls are causing a fuss?” His head turns to you, and smirks. “What is it about?”

You roll your eyes at the sound of his voice and his questions. He knows damn well that if you and Violet having a squabble, it most likely is about him. He knows how obsessed Violet is with him.

Every time there is a quidditch game, Violet tries to sit in the front row to cheer him on, next to you of course. She tries to catch his attention by cheering loudly for him, a little too loud. Always trying to be the first to greet him after the game and sitting close to him during breakfast, lunch and dinner.

Whenever you two are walking together or sitting together, she tries to come between you two. She even goes as far as to persuade the professors to switch partners if she is not partnered with Sebastian.

Luck is almost always on your side as most of the professors brush her off and tell her to work with the student she was originally paired with. This girl was as desperate as one could be.

Sebastian is not going to lie, it does stroke his ego. Of course, it does when he sees how you react to all the things Violet is trying to do to your boyfriend.

Your little huffs of annoyance, or the way you roll your eyes when you hear her shrill voice say your boyfriend's name. He loves it when you try to keep your calm when Violet wants his attention.

Although he likes to receive the attention, he won’t act on it. His heart is set on you and you know that. Nobody can compare to you and he makes sure you know that, in every way possible.

Besides, he loves how riled up you are when Violet tries to make a move on him. He loves to see how possessive you can get and claim what is yours. The sex that ensues after makes him go crazy.

“Violet thinks that if you have to choose between us two, you would definitely go for her,” You shake your head a little, before continuing. “She is sure she knows how you should be pleased.”

She snaps her head from Sebastian to you. Sebastian tries to hold back his laughter after seeing how Violet stares you down. Still standing a little too close to him, he takes a step back.

“Oh, do you now?” You raise your eyebrow to challenge her as if to say ‘Go on, tell him’.

There is a slight pause before she answers him, “I can show you if you want.” as Sebastian takes a step back, she tries to take one step closer to him again. Her manicured nails trailed up to his bicep again and a sultry smile on her lips. “You should see and feel what I can do with my tongue.”

Imelda and Poppy greeted this remark with a loud laugh. Soon, Sebastian joined them. You, however, hate the way she speaks to him. She is trying so damn hard. Sebastian steps away from her grip and shakes his head.

“I’m sure you can make someone else happy with that, but I don’t think my girlfriend would like it when you do that.” He turns to you and takes you in his embrace. Wrapping one arm around your shoulder and giving a quick kiss on your temple. “Hi, love”.

“Besides, this one right here is the only one I would ever want. Nobody compares.” You smile softly up to Sebastian. Even though you’ve been together for quite some time now, he still gives you those butterflies.

How could he not when he just said in front of everyone, in front of Violet, that you are the one for him? That nobody compares to you in his eyes?

Violet’s shocked expression makes you stifle a laugh, and then it turns sour. “What?” she asks, “You two? For how long?” She almost stomps her feet, like a small child whose toys have been taken away.

This time, Garreth speaks up from behind Poppy. “Everyone with eyes and Ominis could see it, Violet. You’re just daft.” His comment, albeit a snide one, is met with chuckles from those who’ve gathered to see what the commotion is about.

At this point, her face grows red from embarrassment and before she stomps off she looks at you. It looks like she wants to say something, but decides against it. She pushes her way through the small crowd and disappears to the girl's dormitory. Her friends flocked behind her.

“Well, that was something.” Poppy speaks up next to you and turns to Garreth, “The last comment might have been a little much”. Garreth just smirked down at her and shrugged.

Before he could reply, Sebastian said, “No she did deserve it. She was a little too obsessed. Told her multiple times I wasn’t interested, even before I got together with this babe.”

He wiggles his eyebrows as you roll your eyes. “Hm, turning to flattery now, are we?” He gave you a soft smile and leaned in for a quick kiss. Soon, everyone around you goes back to their conversations, games and dancing.

“Where have you been the whole time? I was looking for you.” You turn in his arms to face him completely. He sighs, “I know, I’m sorry. Ominis told me you were looking for me. Caught a fourth-year sneaking into the party when I came back from the bathroom. Had to get the little git back to his dorm.” You giggle with a shake of your head. “Ruining the fun for the younger ones now too?” Sebastian rolls his eyes.

“You know my heart is only set on you right?” Sebastian says to you as he pulls you closer by your waist. Your chests flush against each other as he looks down in your eyes.

Your hands slide up his arms and to the back of his neck. Playing with the hair on the base of his neck, he leans into your touch. “I know, and I trust you completely. It’s just girls like Violet that I don’t trust.”

Sebastian nods slightly and drops his forehead against yours. “Well, I understand that. I mean, the guys are no different.” He gives you a soft smile before his eyes flicker down to your lips.

“But, you know, if you want me to show you how much I love you, I’ll be happy to do so.” His eyes glimmer with love and lust and his soft smile turns into a smirk. His hands wander from your waist down to your ass and he squeezes slightly.

This makes you gasp and giggle into his chest. You tilt your head and capture Sebastian’s lips for a quick, soft kiss. You feel him smile into the kiss and when you try to pull away, he deepens the kiss.

“Room of requirement?” He asks breathlessly when you finally pull away from each other. You nod eagerly and take his hand in yours to sneak out of the party.

Sebastian definitely showed you how much he loves you and your body until the early morning. And your altercation with Violet is long forgotten as Sebastian keeps reminding you; you are the only one for him.

Please let me know what you think of this one! All the likes, reblogs and comments are appreciated! <3

Ⓒ︎ 𝗶𝘁𝘀𝗮𝘀𝗶𝗹𝗲𝗻𝘁𝗿𝗲𝗮𝗱𝗲𝗿. 𝘈𝘭𝘭 𝘳𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵𝘴 𝘳𝘦𝘴𝘦𝘳𝘷𝘦𝘥. 𝗗𝗼 𝗻𝗼𝘁 𝘳𝘦𝘱𝘰𝘴𝘵 𝘰𝘳 𝘮𝘰𝘥𝘪𝘧𝘺 𝘮𝘺 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘬 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘤𝘰𝘯𝘴𝘦𝘯𝘵.

[girl-named-matty]

Night owl or Morning person?

Are they a night owl or a morning person? Tags: Somehow put fluff and some cutesy stuff in here. Also not proofread sorry. This HC set contains the following characters: Sebastian, Ominis, Garreth, Leander, Amit, Andrew, Everett, Natty, Poppy, and Imelda. Rating: General Audiences. ..

Summary: My headcanons for if the Hogwarts Legacy students are Night owls or morning people!

Sebastian:

He is 100% a night owl. 

He spends hours reading late into the night. 

He also just really loves nighttime so he’d rather be awake during the night. 

This boy hates early mornings. 

If he’s not up by breakfast, he’s rolling out of bed and getting to class right before it starts. 

Obviously, not every morning because he has Ominis to wake him up and get him going but most mornings he’s still out of it and would rather go back to sleep but of course his education is still very important. ..

Ominis: 

Morning person 

He’s probably up late into the night but he’s actually a pretty big fan of getting up early in the morning. 

Waking up early gives him some time to get ready and spruce himself up before classes and gives him some time alone before having to deal with Sebastian’s antics. 

And since bright lights aren’t an issue for him, he can usually fall asleep anywhere at any time and make up for the sleep he may have lost by waking up early. 

He also finds early mornings to be the most peaceful part of his day. Although he can’t physically see the sunrise, he likes to sit outside and feel the warm sunshine on his face. ..

Garreth: 

He’s not a night owl but he’s definitely not a morning person either. 

He’s going to bed early and waking up late, sorry I don’t make the rules. 

He just really likes his sleep. 

But of course, he never misses breakfast, even if that means he’s rolling out of bed with messy hair and robes to get there in time. 

Just a sleepy boy, okay. But he doesn’t let his Aunt know how much he sleeps in right before important things. ..

Leander: 

A mix of both, perhaps? More on the morning side, though. 

Sometimes he’s up late simply because he got distracted and then got focused on whatever caught his eye. 

And then other nights he’s out like a light. 

Although, usually he’s up early enough in the mornings to make sure he’s up and ready for the morning. 

Don’t judge him for how long it takes to do his hair in the mornings. 

But his favorite mornings are when he wakes up and automatically feels like he can just take on the day with full confidence. :) 

Amit: 

NIGHT OWL 100% 

And not even because he’s rebellious or is stubborn the boy just wants to see his stars. 

He will spend hours upon hours looking at and charting the stars. They really are his best friend when he thinks about it. 

But even then he’s a very dedicated student so he’s still up early in the morning to get ready for school and be perfectly on time for breakfast and for his morning classes. ..

Andrew: 

He just strikes me as a morning person. 

But not the kind to wake up really early, he just enjoys his mornings. 

He takes them very slowly and has a pretty set routine that he likes to do in his mornings to help him feel like his days are going smoothly. 

Morning walks after the sun is up are some of his favorites. He also likes to read outside when the weather is just right. ..

Everett: 

Night owl and the opposite of Amit because he’s a night owl strictly for rebellious purposes. 

Well, most of the time anyway. 

We know he’s a prankster so he’ll stay up late waiting for everyone to be asleep just so he can snatch Zenobia’s gobstones again or stay up late to secretly plan another prank with Astoria Crickett. 

He gets caught a lot because he’s clumsy but you bet he’s gonna stay up late to try again. 

And he just hates the mornings. The worst part of the day for him. ..

Natty:  

Morning person. 

She’ll stay up late if she needs to but she just prefers mornings. 

She loves the sunrise and the feeling of the warm sun so basically mornings are her best friend most days. 

She loves early morning walks and loves it even more if her close friends and companions can join her on them. 

And when her friends are up before her just to get ready for the walk? Oh, you best believe you guys are gonna be best friends forever at that point. ..

Poppy: 

Dare I say she’s a night owl?

For whatever reason she’s up late, probably playing with whatever nocturnal beasts she’s befriended, she loves to do it. 

She doesn’t mind getting up early if she has a good reason to, such as feeding the beasts early, but usually, she likes to sleep in quite a bit. 

There’s just something so peaceful about the night that she loves and she’d much rather be up late to experience it than be up early. ..

Imelda: 

Morning person. 

Not only is she a morning person but she’s a super morning person. 

This girl wakes up at the crack of dawn just to get to the Quidditch pitch and train before anyone else can get there. 

She has a strict routine for practicing every morning and she holds herself to it. 

She thrives off of the energy she gets from waking up so early and going out there to practice and so mornings are just her thing. ..

[the-well-of-dreamfullness]

Hogwarts Legacy fandom, let me introduce you to my lesbian MC !

(I know that's a lot of pictures but I love this character so much !)

Name : Hera Hwang

House : Gryffindor

Date of birth : January 28, 1875

Height : 190cm

Sexuality : Lesbian

Wand : Redwood with Phoenix Feather Core, unyielding, fourteen and a half inches

Patronus : Lion

Likes : Quidditch, music, taking care of beasts, reading, duelling...

She's a total masculine lesbian, who'll fall in love with Poppy Sweeting ! Her family situation is very complicated for reasons I won't explain right now (that's what fanfictions are made for!) ; let's just say that she has no one left, and that her scar and hair are deeply linked to her backstory. She speaks english, french and korean because of her heritage.

You can find an OS about her backstory here :)

And a Hera x Poppy OS here :)

Hera is fierce, protective, assertive, strong and brave ; she'd do anything for the ones she loves and she is a very loyal friend. She's also very socially awkward, sarcastic, witty, and tends to sometimes be arrogant or judge people who gives her a bad impression too quickly. It's hard for her to socialize because she's used to people treating her like she's too different or abnormal, because she's afraid of human contact and touch, but once she gets comfortable with someone, she's very funny and mischievous. That kind of friend always ready to do dangerous things because "come on, it's gonna be fun!". Above all, she has a deeply kind heart, despite her cold and rather intimidating appearance.

If you want to read my fanfictions about Hera Hwang, her adventures, her relationships with other characters (Poppy, Sebastian, Ominis, Natty, Imelda, Amit, Professor Fig, her family...), her backround, you can find me on AO3 ! I'll post a lot of OS, and a long fanfiction that tells all the story of Hera's 5th year, with Ranrok and all (but you don't have to read it to understand Hera's story and character), probably followed by a fanfiction about her 6th year and another about her 7th.

Here's my A03, shesgotherticket ! (❤️ on you if you got the Tracy Chapman ref!)

Anyway, thank you if you've read all of this, I'm so happy to make that post about my OC !

[zetadraconis11]

HL Incorrect Quote #34

Garreth: What's your biggest fear?

Imelda: You.

Garreth: Me?!

Imelda: I'm scared that one day you'll look in the mirror and see yourself as I see you. You will realize just how amazing you are and that you deserve better than me....

Imelda: I'm terrified that you'll leave.

[innaillus]

I started to recycle an old sketch after yesterday's ep. And then I saw this on twitter....... and I finished it anyway. 😭

https://x.com/Daliyonaneko/status/1711769326771155018?s=20

(I hope this means he survived the conflict! Though knowing Toman... ye let's not go there....)

MUSIC RECOMMENDATION

[optimisticartistic]

Anyway here's my

Personal* Fan-Cast for Malevolent

Arthur: Dan Stevens

He's a certified Weird Little British Guy with a 10/10 murder glare. See Apostle (2018) for two hours of s3 Arthur you're welcome.

Parker: John Harlan Kim

Look at his FACE and tell me you would not also immediately fall for him.

Noel/Charlie: David Shields

If I can't have Humphrey Bogart then /willsmithpose

Oscar: Michael Sheen

Look the curly hair to me is non-negotiable. Personally I like him with more of a beard but this is an excellent start.

Daniel: Colin Firth

I don't think I really need to explain this one.

Collins: Michael Shannon

Just shave him. Just- just shave this man and we good to go.

Larson: Aaron Taylor-Johnson

Sir I'm sorry to slander you like this, you seem like a sweetheart, but GOD you play a fantastic slimeball.

Kayne: Kieran Culkin

I'm not entirely joking? I think he's neat, I think he's got the manic energy to pull it off.

And for some ladies~

Bella: Rachel Weisz

Queen. Look I don't care that she's like 50 now she's still *stunning*

Marie: Imelda Staunton

Again I don't have an explanation it's just Vibes

*This is entirely my own opinion, if you have other actors you think suit I would genuinely love to see them!

[msweebyness]

Miraculous Mother’s Day HC Special

Happy Mother's Day everybody! I hope all the awesome moms out there are having an amazing day! Enjoy these headcanons of things the Akuma and Theater kids like to do with their moms! (The ones who have good relationships anyway!) @imsparky2002 @booksrbetterthanpeople @nerdy-chocomallow

Marinette loves doing Tai Chi with Sabine in the mornings. It helps her get in a good headspace to start the day.

Alya enjoys cooking and testing out new recipes with Marlena. Cooking is her mother's passion and Alya likes being able to share that with her.

Nino actually enjoys crocheting with his mother, Margie. It's a relaxing activity they can enjoy together and he likes making gifts for his friends.

Sabrina likes going thrift-shopping with her mother, Tanya. They don't have too much in common, but they do share a love for more eclectic fashions.

Rose shares her mother Lily's love of flowers, and they love working on bouquets and arrangements together. They especially love making holiday arrangements for friends and neighbors.

Juleka and Anarka both love music, so it should come as no surprise that they like to compose music and play guitar together. Anarka's even helped write a few Kitty Section songs.

Claudie and Max enjoy playing video games together. Max got his love for gaming from his mother and she's every bit as good as him.

The same is true of Eloise and her mother, Roerva. She's the only one who can whoop both of her children in a round of gaming.

Kim's mom, Mai, is one of his favorite workout partners. She's one of the few people who can keep up with him on the treadmill.

Alix and her mother both have a love for watching professional wrestling, and are fans of several promotions. They go to live shows that come to France when they can.

Galina has a love for gardening, and Ivan will often come out to help his mother and grandmother. It's a relaxing activity for him.

Nathaniel really enjoys helping Aya (he calls her mom for a reason) out at the cafe. He takes any opportunity to spend time with her and he also gets along with the employees.

Jesse likes to watch movies and musicals with his mother, Imelda. They share a love for cinema and theater can spend hours talking about films and shows.

Dot and her mother Enid enjoy organizing the house together. They both highly value order and it gives them peace of mind to get everything in its place.

Ayesha's mother Megan loves to dance and is really good at it. Ayesha loves to dance with her in the kitchen to their favorite songs. It's a way for them both to cut loose.

Roxie actually gets their passion for martial arts from their mother, Rydel, who is a Muay Thai champion. As such, the two enjoy sparring together when they have time, to keep their skills sharp.

Anthony likes going to tea houses with his mother, Sylvie. He really just enjoys talking to her and it gives them both a relaxing environment.

Eri enjoys writing and performing little skits with her mother, Sasami. They both have a love for theater and dramatics, and they love to just go crazy with it.

Candace and her mother Sandra enjoy doing yoga together in the mornings. It keeps them both in shape and is a relaxing way to start the day.

Soo-Yeon enjoys playing one-on-one with his mother in their backyard basketball court. Mi Cha was a champion player in her high school and college years and she makes sure her son stays sharp.

Margo and her mother Dagny share their love for DIY projects, and can often be found working on crafts together. Dagny often guests on her daughter's DIY channel, and is a fan favorite.

Staci and her mother Yumei often go on bike rides around Paris together. They enjoy the scenery and it's a great way to keep in shape.

Parker and her mother Cissy, the DuPont school nurse, both enjoy going out for jogs together. They can talk about anything together and it's a good morning workout.

Brecken spends countless hours helping out Annie at the animal shelter, given their shared love of animals. He also likes to do some quilting with Rachel, and even made one as a gift for Mme. Winters.

Evie's mother Carolina actually shares her love for music, which is why she works in the industry. She loves to play guitar and Evie loves singing along with her mother.

Mona likes helping her mother Bindi put together the activities for her kindergarten class. Whether shopping for supplies or making demonstrations, the whole process is fun for them.

Leave your thoughts in the comments and reblogs! Happy Mother's Day!

[serpentsillusion]

Not that this didn't take me 6 hours to try really hard to do the "idiot sandwich."

And Jess doesn't HAVE two boyfriends, she has 2 guy best friends and I can probably guess that Imelda is calling her out on the account of her being jealous of her sick broom methods. I feel like Imelda would give her anxiety anyway and they would just end up fighting. 😂

Fingers are hard. Body movements are hard. Frickin SEBASTIAN'S whole face is hard. But HUGE shout-out to @choccy-milky for being super sweet and kind, and for doing a most excellent job at our favorite Slytherin boy. Super floofy hair used for reference only in this one by her main Seb. I did not think of the hair with my own brain. As I'm still learning how to draw things, I very much appreciate you being a mentor AND mutual 💚 Next I will try tackling the floof. Also, Ominis's hair wasn't too hard since he has it slicked back, and Jess's bun is actually getting pretty easy. Drawing is hard and I know it takes a TON of practice and literal HOURS of it, and I'm trying to draw out how shapes form. ✨Please do not use someone else's art for practice without asking for permission first. ✨

I used a base model or this including the eyes and mouths but everything else was attempted free hand. (I think that's what it's called) My brain does not operate the same way a "normal persons" brain does. So if this doesn't make any sense I apologize. I'm trying my best to do what I love so I hope you guys will like it too. And if you haven't already, pay @choccy-milky a visit and give her a follow! 🐍✨

Thank you guys! 🦋💕

[hogwartslegacyreactions2]

Hi there! First, I wanna say I absolutely love your works; they are all great, and I enjoy reading every one of their reactions!

Can I request to see HLC (including professors) react to MC sniffing them (out for many reasons, but mainly they want to remember their smell)? Just genuinely curious about what they would usually smell like :) Thank you! And wish to see more works of yours!

A/N: laughing so hard the whole time writing this 🤣

HLC REACT TO MC SNIFFING THEM

SEBASTIAN SALLOW: Old books and smoke. He smells like a stack of forgotten tomes that were set on fire. He raises an eyebrow and laughs. "You're not going to lick me next, are you?"

OMINIS GAUNT: Clean linens and a touch of mint. "...did you just sniff me?" One would think he'd be used to MC's weird behavior by now. Alas, he is not.

ANNE SALLOW: Wild flowers. She smells like she's been laying out in a meadow in spring. She smells her own robes. "What? Do I smell bad?"

IMELDA REYES: Broom polish and various wood scents. She gives MC a strong side-eye glare. "What are you doing?"

NATSAI ONAI: Incense and fresh cut grass. She gives MC an unsure look but smiles anyway. "You're acting strange. Even by your standards."

GARRETH WEASLEY: He smells like an apothecary shop threw up on him, that also exploded. "What? Do I still smell like burnt rat hair? I thought I got that out."

LEANDER PREWETT: Cheap cologne that screams "try hard", but at the same time isn't overly offensive. He side steps away from MC. "Please, stop that."

AMIT THAKKAR: Parchment and spilled ink. He startles when MC sniffs him and he jumps away like a startled cat. "What was that about?"

EVERETT CLOPTON: Depends on the day. There is no consistency with him. Some days he smells like a pack of dung bombs, others he smells like a summer breeze. He sweats nervously, hoping that MC doesn't smell dung bombs.

POPPY SWEETING: Ever smelled a horse with feathers? That's her. She watches MC curiously. "What are you sniffing around like a niffler for?"

~~~

ELEAZAR FIG: A well kept library. Old leather and parchment. He sniffs MC back. "I'd say we're both due for a wash after all the running around we've been doing."

MATILDA WEASLEY: Orchids, her favorite floral scent. She gives MC an unsure glance. "You could just ask what perfume I use."

CHIYO KOGAWA: Leather and sweat. Even with quidditch canceled, she's always out and about the grounds. "Don't sniff. That's rather rude."

AESOP SHARP: The wizard equivalent of Old Spice and a hint of fire whiskey. He just rolls his eyes. He doesn't get paid enough for this.

ABRAHAM RONEN: Sugar and cinnamon. Always smells like he just came back from Honeydukes. "Oh my, do I smell bad?" He's genuinely concerned and smells his own robes.

MIRABEL GARLICK: A garden. Flowers, soil, pottery; the whole shabang. "I was repotting mandrakes with the third years today. Sorry if I smell a bit ripe." She laughs.

MUDIWA ONAI: Incense and palm oil. She offers MC some incense. "Would you like to burn some for your dorm? You smell like you could use it."

BAI HOWIN: She works in beast pens all day. Enough said. MC doesn't even need to get close to smell her on some days.

DINAH HECAT: Amazingly. Nothing. Her time as an unspeakable has taught her to be undetectable, even by smell. Old habits die hard.

CUTHBERT BINNS: He doesn't so much give off a scent, as he does a cold chill if MC gets too close.

SATYAVATI SHAH: VERY faint smell of cherry blossom. She's very guarded of her personal space, so MC will have a hard time catching it.

PHINEAS NIGELLUS BLACK: Expensive cologne and hair tonic. He steps away from MC. Ew. Students.

[ask-elland-n-will]

To the badge-less prefect,

Ah-ha ha! I had your badge all along and thought I’d put you to a test as I couldn’t help but overhear your boasting atop a box of your so-called ‘unmatched’ Seeker skills.

I’ve stuck it to one of two snitches and unleashed them in the school entrance gardens! But be warned, a mini dung bomb is strapped to the other!

Now let’s see how good a Seeker you really are!

HA HA HA HA HA!

- Also sorry -

The letter didn’t contain a name of the sender but there’s no mistake who this sassy owl belongs to. Did it just do an eye roll? Is it even possible? This one certainly seemed to before it flew off

William is no stranger to questionably-looking owls crossing his path, but only a few of them are sassy enough to roll their eyes at him. Or at the very least do an owl equivalent of such a motion. The urge to childishly stick his tongue out was strong but he was a polite young man. He wouldn't do it with other students walking around. He would wait for when he's alone with Elland or Allegra and THEN complain about it.

Will frowned and examined the letter. There better not be any pixie dust in this one — the inside of his bag was still sparking because of the last letter Asani sent him. He shakes the envelope and opens it very slowly. Well, well, well, he was RIGHT about the owl at least.

Boasting, he?! Rightfully so, he IS a great Seeker! No matter what Anderson says, Imelda will set this right eventually! What is this, a challenge? Oh, wait, it is… He tied a WHAT to the snitch?!

The prefect gasps out loud and stands up from his seat. What kind of test even is this, apart from it bein an unsanctioned one? How would the culprit even know that Will did it? Nevermind that, a mini mung bomb! What if somebody gets hurt by accident, where did that student even get two snitches! He better not have stolen them from the practice chest on the pitch. Oh, Will will be checking that shortly.

After a quick glance at the clock (he has 2 hours left before his extracurricular), Will packs his things and changes into his old Quidditch gear.

The next time the new fifth-year sees William is by the greenhouses before the Herbology class. The prefect sports a pretty bubble-head charm reminiscent of a soap bubble. There is something shimmering in both of his hands but only upon closer inspection and the fluttering of golden wings does it become clear what.

"Hey, fifth-year! Fancy I ran into you!" exclaims Will cheerfully.

Truth be told, he knew the boy would be here as the prefect has been long aware of his schedule. Will wraps his arm around Fifth's shoulders, and the reason behind the bubblehead charm becomes clear. Will smiles the most pleasant smile and pushes something into the other boy's chest, patting it with his Seeker glove a few times, making the SMELL come to the NFY in waves more pungent than what Will's uniform was giving off.

"Pretty neat, isn't it? Somebody thought to CHALLENGE me by setting a couple of snitches free. Ha! Anyway, I could've sworn you're collecting snitches, take this one as a gift! There was something tied to it but I for the love of Merlin do not remember what. Oh well. Beautiful day, isn't it?"

Extra: If the NFY makes a face at the smell, Will chuckles and comments on it: "Is something the matter? Oh, look, your class is beginning, better hurry now!"