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in-class-daydreams · 1 year

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King of My Heart (Sebastian Sallow x Reader)

Pairing: Sebastian Sallow x Fem!Reader Chapter 1: ...Ready for It? Synopsis: Hogwarts Legacy if Sebastian's Relationship Quest was the main quest. A telling of the in-between, the late nights sneaking around the castle after curfew, sitting on the second floor of the library listening to Sebastian ramble about a book he read, stealing cubes of melon off his plate during breakfast. How we got from "not bad for a beginner" to "there was nobody else, I came alone" to "no matter what happens, I'm glad we met." Alternatively: How your love could pull Sebastian Sallow back from the brink. Told in the style of Percy Jackson, in first-person and with sarcasm. A/N: Starting a new project without finishing the old ones, are we, Aya? Yes. Yes, we are. TW: A lil swearing

Listen, I never wanted to be a witch.

I apologize to all of you romantics who think that the whole thing - Hogwarts, ancient magic, regular magic, being British, fantastic beasts - is all about feeding puffskeins and brewing amortentia. Might I add that the love potion is a bastard to brew, because if it was that easy, it wouldn’t be the most powerful love potion in existence, would it? That, and it’s somewhat unsettling. I, for one, do not always smell like jasmine and citrus. And during my fifth year at Hogwarts especially, I was constantly running through spider-infested caves and fighting dugbogs, and if my soulmate or whoever caught a whiff of that smell, they just might retch.

Speaking of my fifth year, I started off that year like any other new student entering a boarding school where everyone else already knew each other: terrified beyond measure. Of course, I made sure to never let Professor Fig see that. Not that I didn’t trust him, but I was determined to never let him see me slip. Not when he was the only person who ever believed in me.

After everything that happened on the way to Hogwarts from dragons to goblins (I’m sure you’ve heard the rumors about that, right? ) I expected a bit… more? For lack of a better term. I arrived at the Sorting Ceremony late, nearly had an aneurysm on that stool with all those eyes on me, nervously chattered with the magic hat, and sat there, willing myself not to fidget too much.

I sat there feeling like I was somehow sitting incorrectly when the Hat hummed to himself (itself?) and made general thoughtful sounds. He spoke of how I arrived with expectations and preconceptions, and perhaps he was right, though I cared less about the house I’d be put in and more about not standing out too much.

“Ah, a difficult decision, indeed. It is quite different, sorting a fifth-year. You know more about the world and less about yourself than a first-year. And yet, you have a certain sense of – hmm – what is it?”

“Is it ambition?” I offered quietly. “I may seem single-minded, but it is important to go after what you want from life.”

The Sorting Hat made another indecipherable grunting sound.

“Is that how you see yourself, child? Not my first impression, to be frank, but other factors considered, I’ve made my choice. Between the two of us… You would have done well in Gryffindor.”

Would have?

I might have dwelled on the passing statement further had the Sorting Hat not interrupted my thoughts.

“SLYTHERIN!”

Slytherin in all caps! Honestly, I understand that he shouts for the benefit of the enormous room, but the ringing in my ears lingered long after I got it off my head.

I expected a sleepless night after that. I lay in an unfamiliar bed and my mind kept replaying the day’s events like a moving picture show. Behind my eyelids, I kept seeing the carriage crack in half, the swift appearance of the thestrals soon after. My first thought was that they allowed themselves to be seen until I realized they appeared to people who had seen death. I may not have seen the blood and limbs disappear down the dragon’s throat, but I had seen death that day. Looked it in the eye. Watched it wink at me and stick its tongue out as if to say, “If I wanted you, I’d have you.”

I don’t know when I slipped into a dreamless sleep, but before I knew it, it was morning. I blinked my dry eyes and sat up to take in the large, circular room around me. It was neat, thankfully. I didn’t know much about wizard boarding schools, but they sure took color-coding very seriously. From green tapestries to green four-poster beds, at least I would never stumble into the wrong dorm.

I quickly noticed I was alone and, not wanting to be the odd one out even more than I already was, I put on my school uniform. Not to sound uncultured, but I had never had such fine clothing before. Not new, anyway. It took me a while to figure out how to layer everything to sit just right. Placing a hand on my trunk, I took a last look at the ugly yellow coat I wore exactly once. I would never touch it again. Not because it was ugly, but because it was Professor Fig’s present to me. The school had provided school supplies and the like, but Fig took it upon himself to give me something just for me. Color be damned, it was the most beautiful thing I owned.

I stood up from the bed and smooth out my new robes, not a patch or stain to be seen. Taking a deep breath, I made myself a set of goals for the day. Step 1, have your uniform on correctly. From what I could tell, my vest wasn’t on backwards and my skirt wasn’t tucked into my waistband, so I could reasonably consider my first task a success. Step 2, introduce myself to someone. No, Slytherins were ambitious, I would introduce myself to three people minimum. I grimaced at the prospect. But no matter, I had already thought the new number into existence, so three it would be.

Even the hallway was fancy. It had elaborate metal railings on the way to the common room. Crossing the threshold, I reminded myself not to pull a face at the much more crowded than anticipated common room.

Back straight, chin up, shoulders relaxed. Play mysterious, but approachable, I told myself. Starting at that moment, I would begin building my reputation however I pleased. I was a blank slate and I’d be damned if I let such an opportunity go to waste.

“Is that the new fifth year?” someone essentially stage whispered.

“The one that came in late with Professor Fig?” another said.

I resisted the urge to turn and run back into my room. Gossip was apparently popular anywhere. I didn’t know how I could ever have thought otherwise.

“Wow, she’s–” A boy to my right cut himself off when his friend nudged him with his elbow. A moment later, a girl chastised everyone and suggested they give me space. Of course, all this happened as if I couldn’t hear them, but I appreciated the bossy girl immensely.

It was time for me to get on with my self-imposed to-do list and introduce myself to some people. I gave myself some leeway by excluding the rumor-mongers from my list of candidates. There was a boy with a book by the fire, whom I made a beeline for.

Damn, I thought to myself, he’s reading. Why would you walk up to one of the only actively occupied people in the room? To my further dismay, as I got closer I heard the boy muttering to his book, annoyed. Actively occupied and agitated. Excellent choice, I thought. While I racked my brains for an excuse to abruptly change course this close, the boy looked up and snapped his book shut, placing it on the couch beside him. The fireplace to my left did nothing to keep my hands from getting clammy.

“Can I help you?” the boy asks testily.

Here we go.

On the bright side, he didn’t have to put down his book just to talk to me, so that was a good sign. Maybe he was just one of those people that sounded annoyed all the time. Yeah. That.

“Ah!” he said, the furrow in his brow and frosty tone dissipating immediately. “You’re the new fifth-year! I’m Sebastian Sallow. Welcome to Slytherin.”

Interesting shift in demeanor, I remember thinking.

“Thank you,” I said as cooly as I could muster before introducing myself.

I won’t lie, I blacked out for a lot of that conversation. I could still hear my housemates muttering behind my back and this Sebastian fellow was being very friendly - complimenting my bravery, saying he’s glad I’m alright. He also asked how Professor Fig and I escaped the dragon, to which I replied that it was all a blur, which was a half-truth, and therefore acceptable. I didn’t know how much time I’d be spending with Sebastian Sallow then, and I’d like to say I was enraptured by him since Day 1, but truthfully, as I walked away, I forgot all about him.

Despite having a raging pureblood fanatic and probable woman-hater (he just seems that way, you know?) as a house founder, the Slytherins put me at immediate ease. My next introduction was to a bossy, outspoken girl named Imelda Reyes, a girl with a thick Scottish accent who insisted that she knew more about flying than our professor. From anyone else, it might’ve seemed like lame adolescent bravado, but based on her confidence, I was inclined to believe her. Unlike with Sebastian, I made a conscious effort to memorize Imelda’s name and face. At my ripe age of fifteen going on sixteen, I’d come to find that people that are a pain in the ass make the greatest friends.

After Imelda, I was drawn to the back wall of the common room by a floor-to-ceiling window that gave us a glorious view underwater. A few of my housemates that looked younger than me were pressed up against the glass, excitedly chattering among themselves about mermaids and such.

“Doubt mermaids find us that interesting.” To my left, a posh British accent broke me out of my infatuation with the view. I turned and was immediately struck by how pretty this boy was. He had a soft air about him. Something gentle. Maybe it was the bluish light from the window casting down on him, illuminating his beauty marks and long lashes, but I’d never found anyone of any gender so beautiful before. He had high cheekbones and perhaps most striking were his cloudy gray-blue eyes that did not move like anyone else’s. Framed by lush, light lashes, his demeanor made it seem like his clear blindness made him more perceptive than the rest of us, not less.

His eyebrows raised. “Ah, based on all the chatter when you entered the common room, you’re the new fifth-year. I’m Ominis. Ominis Gaunt.”

I thought that his parents must’ve been quite vindictive to name their child something like that. As my friendship with Ominis progressed, I’d come to regret how right I was.

“Well, you certainly had a memorable arrival,” Ominis said in a conspiratorial tone. I smiled despite my original nervousness. Then he asked me the generic questions about my trip to Hogwarts. Maybe it was because he was blind, but Ominis had a way of making you feel like you had 100% of his focus. Like nothing else mattered to him while he was talking to you. Something about that, along with the soothing cadence of his voice, set me at ease. I never forgot what it was like talking to Ominis Gaunt for the first time. Eager as I was to finish my third introduction to cross it off my list, I found myself asking him questions about himself. Not because I didn’t want our introduction to be awkwardly brief, like I did with the other two, but because I wanted to know more about him. I didn’t have much to go off of, so I asked the first coherent question I could think of.

“Were you expecting to be sorted into Slytherin?” I asked. Hopefully originality wasn’t a graded subject at wizard school.

“Most certainly,” Ominis replied, sounding amused. “My family on my father’s side are direct descendants of Salazar Slytherin - one of the four founders of Hogwarts.” That last bit was common knowledge for most. Not for me, of course, but it didn’t feel condescending coming from Ominis. When he told you things, it was like the information levitated in the air for you to take for yourself, should you want it, rather than him forcing the information on you because he thought you were ignorant.

I figured he was rich. He looked rich, from his aristocratic face and expensive pomade in his hair. And, of course, the posh accent. My past experiences with people from families like his - that is, powerful old money families - were either neutral or bad, usually leaning towards the latter. Never anything traumatizing enough for me to hate the accent, but enough to make me notice how nice it sounded coming from him. I had to remind myself to focus on what the boy was saying, rather than how well words fit in his mouth.

“Not something I’m proud of, mind you. He was obsessed with blood status. A pure-blood maniac.” His tone turned self-deprecating, as if the bigotry of his ancestor was his cross to bear.

I allowed myself to linger on ‘blood stay-tus’ for a single, indulgent moment, before pursing my lips to keep from smiling too hard. I only allowed that one moment, considering how inappropriate it would be to smile at something so personal to Ominis. Not that he could see it, but I decided then that I would never hide behind his blindness for anything.

“Unfortunately, most of his descendants do not fall that far from that tree,” he said softly.

This time, I let the small smile I was holding escape.

“It must’ve been hard growing up like that, but,” the words had burst out of me before I could stop them, but now that I’d said them, it was time to follow through, as I always have. “I’m glad to hear you’re different.”

His eyes widened. “You are?”

I shrugged, not because I felt casual or because I forgot he couldn’t see it, but to keep myself from getting too intense about the family matters of a boy I’d just met.

“I grew up in--” I pursed my lips, but was determined to pay back the personal snippet he’d given me “--less than comfortable circumstances, so I’ve never cared about bloodlines and all that. I think the choices we make are what make us, wouldn’t you say?”

Ominis smiled boyishly. Soft, tentative. “I completely agree.”

I flushed, suddenly shy under his grateful expression. “Yeah, I’m big into the whole ‘free will’ thing. I think we always have a choice.” I did my best to sound more casual as to not let on just how strongly I believed in the power of autonomy, but felt like I failed.

Ominis looked like he wanted to say something else, but I’d already been too intense for one day, and was worried I’d put my foot in my mouth eventually, so I changed the subject.

“Did that student say he thought he heard a mermaid?”

To his credit, Ominis took the subject change in stride. He laughed, sounding just the slightest bit embarrassed and I quashed the stream of funny things my brain dug up just to hear that laugh again.

“Yes. But I’ve never heard of a mermaid showing up outside our common room window,” he replies. I look out the window. “It is fun to play along, though. Been known to keep some of the first-years on the lookout for hours.”

So the rich boy had a mischievous streak. I smiled. He had a gentle, serene aura, and yet was already one of the most vibrant people I had ever met.

I then realized how fast I was being dragged into his orbit. To keep from rendering myself useless for the rest of the day, I thanked Ominis and said, “Very nice to meet you.”

I’ve heard worse understatements. The ocean has a lot of water in it. People breathe air sometimes. My first day at Hogwarts was somewhat eventful. See? Worse.

~~~

While I was grateful to Professor Weasley for introducing the Floo to me, it made me super dizzy for the first several months. Travel magic was not for the tin tummied, to be sure. Not to mention Ignatia Wildsmith hollering a foot away from me every time I used it. She was a happy, friendly woman who made my life easier, so I was grateful to her, but every day I prayed that she would be just a bit quieter.

The Field Guide was useful and prevented me from wandering around the castle with my nose buried in a map like a lost tourist, but even with the guide, Hogwarts was a labyrinth. By the time I reached the Defense Against the Dark Arts Tower, I was breathing deeply through my nose so no one could hear how hard those stairs made me fight for my life.

When I entered the classroom, everyone seemed to already be present. The first thing that caught my eye was an enormous winged skeleton suspended from the ceiling. A bit of a safety hazard if you asked me, but I figured wizard school must’ve had some pretty good safeguards for these kinds of things.

“Stupefy!”

The second thing I noticed was a lanky redheaded boy wearing the Gryffindor colors having a duel of sorts with someone from my house. Someone broader, looking much more relaxed than his opponent. The brunette closer to me deflected the spell easily.

“Is that all you’ve got?” he taunted before whipping his arm around and shooting a bombarda spell at the Gryffindor, who got his shield up in time, but, in my opinion, really should have been able to counter such an obvious move much sooner.

Don’t start, I told myself. Being judgemental was not a good way to make friends. Until you find equally judgemental friends, which is infinitely better, but I didn’t want to show my cards too soon.

The spell was deflected upwards, knocking the large skull loose onto the redheaded boy. Part of me was worried for him, but the other part of me said, “See? Safety hazard.”

Instead of, you know, using magic or moving two steps in literally any direction, the Gryffindor opted to squat down on the floor at the sight of the oncoming skull. For some reason.

“Levioso!”

At the top of the stairs stood an old woman with short white hair, holding her wand out, having caught the skull like it was nothing.

“Professor Hecat!” a girl cried from somewhere in the throng of students.

“Perhaps you’d be good enough to blast each other to pieces on your own time,” she said matter-of-factly. “I get new students every year, but I only have one Hebridium Black skull. It was a token from the Great Poacher Raid of 1878. No doubt you’ve heard of it. Now, you may be asking yourself how an old woman like me single-handedly took out the largest poacher ring in Eastern Wales and lived to boast about it.”

Absolutely, I thought. I want to be like you when I grow up.

“Knowledge,” Professor Hecat supplied.

Was that like a potion or a mutation or the answer to her question? Are all spells in Latin?

Professor Hecat informed us that age mattered very little in the face of knowledge. I was inclined to agree, and my professor seemed to imply that while being old didn’t equate to being feeble, being young also didn’t equate to being ignorant. She lectured about an important spell that she used during her time against dark wizards, and I took a step forward so I could cling to her every word.

“Levioso?” the redhead whined. “A levitation charm?”

You mean the one you weren’t able to use? The one that the Professor just used to save your bony self from getting crushed by actual bones?

“Levioso!” The boy levitated several feet in the air. “A surprised opponent is a weak one. Care to defend yourself, Master Prewett?”

Ha, eat a dick, Prewett. Then I told myself to be nice, even if the guy seemed like the type to run home to mommy if he could.

From the movement in the corner of my eye, I could’ve sworn that the brunette that had been dueling looked back at me, but I assumed it was a trick of the light.

Professor Hecat let us break off to practice levioso. Professor Fig had taught me the basic spells, and obviously I’d already had my fair share of practice with them. My first spell at Hogwarts was bound to be harder, right?

I mimed the wand movement once. Twice. It was oddly simple. I gestured one more time and said in a clear voice, “Levioso.”

And the feather obeyed without protest. I stared at the floating feather, baffled. There was no way. Basic cast, protego, those were simple, natural spells. They felt like breathing. Other spells had to be more complicated, right? At least, hard enough where it took me more than one try to get it right. Maybe the ancient magic was helping me?

I lowered my wand. Professor Hecat approached on my left and had a whisper of an approving smile on her face.

“Now, let’s try something a little larger.” She summoned a practice dummy over and cleared all the desks. Then she gestured for me to face the dummy. Not one to argue, I stood in line with it and saw a shimmering yellow haze around it. Professor Hecat bid me to strike it with a basic cast.

Okay, but. There’s a forcefield around it. I– You know what, never mind.

I did as she asked and, sure enough, my spell bounced right off.

“See how the dummy deflected your cast?” Professor Hecat asked and I nodded. “This time, cast levioso first, then the basic cast.”

Easy enough. I imagined the end result and let my wand and body guide me through. It moved through me like water, the levioso followed through straight into my basic cast. With the spare energy I had, I whipped my hand back and forth for two more strikes. The dummy flipped in the air before flopping back down with a thud.

“Well done!” Professor Hecat said. “Very good. But!” Because there’s always a ‘but.’ “The best way to practice is by dueling. Well start with you two.”

I looked over to where she was pointing and I finally put two and two together. The tall, broad Slytherin boy that was dueling earlier. Sebastian, I recalled. In my defense, I couldn’t be expected to recognize him from behind after only meeting him once. I fought the savage grin that threatened to rear its head. My blood thrummed in my veins at the prospect of a fight. Something awoke inside me at Gringotts. The surge of power in my veins, the feeling of that final finishing blow, how each movement flowed into each other one after the next. The experience was addicting. For a time, I was worried that I wouldn’t get to feel that surge again.

Sebastian smirked at me. I took note of the freckles scattered across his face. His brown hair was mussed, probably from his duel, but the slightly unkempt look suited him.

“Time for a proper Hogwarts welcome,” he said and took his place across from me.

Oh, it was on.

“Now,” the floor raised below me as Professor Hecat spoke, “I want a fair duel using levioso, basic cast, and protego.”

Damn. I was hoping for a free for all. I wanted to see how my defenses held up against that bombarda spell he used. No matter. With a level playing field, I had the ‘fought for my life less than 24 hours ago’ advantage.

That was the dilemma. I had a reputation to build. Would I absolutely own this boy, bruise his ego, probably make an enemy of him because of it? I would gain the respect of the rest of the class and the professor if I did. Or I could let him win so as to not make waves? I’d have to be careful, as I suspected our wise professor would see through poor acting if I threw the match too hard.

“You may begin.”

I spread my feet in a defensive stance. Sebastian, on the other hand, looked completely relaxed. Waiting for me to make the first strike. Was he being a gentleman or underestimating me? Either way, I’d make sure he never did it again.

I got him up off the ground. He didn’t even have time to try to block it. I hit him with a chain of basic casts before he dropped back down to his feet. Sebastian launched his counter attack. Quick, precise, forceful. Prewett deserved more credit for lasting as long as he did. Sebastian’s arm reared back and time slowed. I interrupted him with a cast of my own, then levitated him off the ground only to blast him off the back of the strip with a dull thud, papers flying around everywhere. The class went up in cheers and I hopped down to weave through the crowd.

Whoops.

Sebastian was still flat on his ass. Any number of reactions were possible. A scowl, a glare. Maybe even tears of embarrassment. Instead, I was met with a wide grin and eyes sparkling with interest. Before I could approach him, he dusted himself off and approached.

“Not bad for a beginner,” he teased. He was trying to seem aloof, but the smile twitching at the corners of his mouth said otherwise. “You give as good as you get.” Then he hummed and walked past me.

Professor Hecat called me over to praise me for a job well done. I stood in front of her, pleased to have her approval.

“I demand excellence from my students. They are capable of achieving it, and they must achieve it,” she said with passion. I had the feeling that Defense Against the Dark Arts would be one of my favorite classes. With the thrill of the fight and an invested instructor, it was everything I could have asked for in an education. She gave me more words of praise and I thanked her before she informed me that she would reach out soon with additional assignments. I couldn’t wait to absorb the vast pool of knowledge she had to offer.

As I made my way to the door, I found Sebastian standing there alone. I suspected that he had matters to discuss with the professor and nearly walked past him.

“Nice work,” he said.

I stopped and turned, surprised.

“I enjoyed that,” I told him.

“That duel was quite something!” he said. “Everyone will be talking about it.”

Why did he look so happy about it? So far, I’d been reading Sebastian Sallow wrong at every turn.

He put up a good fight. It wasn’t his fault he hadn’t had a trial by fire practice. Opting to remain humble, I replied, “It was certainly good practice.”

Sebastian leaned in. “Practice?” he exclaimed. “Felt more like I was dueling an expert!”

My face warmed at the enthusiasm behind his praise.

“Didn’t expect a new student to be so deft with a wand.” He gave me an appraising look, his tone turning conspiratory. “Then again, perhaps this wasn’t your first duel.”

“I’ve dueled enough. Consider yourself lucky I held back.” Something about Sebastian made me want to push his buttons. My track record for getting him all wrong continued, however.

“Fair enough,” he matched my tone. “You owe me an honest duel when you’re not.”

My blood pulsed once more at the idea of another fight.

“You know. You might be a perfect fit for a certain exclusive, unsanctioned dueling organization,” Sebastian said.

Getting into trouble was the last thing I wanted to do, lest everything snowball and I find myself expelled from Hogwarts and back to where I was. Anything was better than that, but I suspected, though, that Sebastian knew exactly what button of mine to push. He had me pegged before I did him, and I found myself almost frustrated at the prospect.

“Exclusive and unsanctioned?” I said. “Count me in.”

Sebastian looked pleased with himself. “Excellent. Knew I was right about you.”

That made me frown. He was indeed. Yet, I’d been wrong about him since the moment I approached him in the common room.

“If you want to get the most out of your time at Hogwarts, you’re going to need to break the rules now and then,” he continued. “Whether it’s joining a secret dueling club or sneaking into the Restricted Section of the library.”

Damn that look he gave me at that last bit. He wasn’t saying it to brag. He’d already figured out what made me tick.

“You just have to be clever enough not to get caught.”

“Thank you, Sebastian.” I said coolly, having had enough of his watchful eye for the moment. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

He gave me that knowing smile again. “Good. Pleasure chatting with you. I’m sure I’ll see you soon. Perhaps somewhere unsanctioned?” The emphasis on the last word told me he was sure I was on board. “We’ll see if your performance today was sheer luck or actual skill. Look for Lucan Brattleby by the clock tower entrance. If you’re interested.”

I tried not to scowl too hard. Of course he’d act like he was letting me think about it, knowing damn well what I was going to do. What a cheeky bastard.

A/N: "Hey, this very much looks like a Sebastian fic!" Yes, reader, it does! And this first part is very much yours and Sebastian's love story. But! (Because there's always a but) I make no promises for the endgame. Maybe the fact that Sebastian needs you doesn't mean he deserves you. We'll have to see.

A good chunk of this will follow canon, but I change some scenarios and conversations entirely, and after a point, it'll diverge from canon completely.

#hogwarts legacy #sebastian sallow #sebastian sallow x mc #sebastian sallow x reader #hogwarts legacy imagines #ominis gaunt #sebastian x mc #komh #a lil ominis gaunt x reader #for flavor #and possible foreshadowing #but this first part is def yours and seb's love story don't worry

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