#Post Azkaban Sebastian

[heylorrain]

A proper apology

🔞❤️‍🔥 NSFW // MDNI 🔞❤️‍🔥

⚠️ Sebastian Sallow x F! reader⚠️ Spicy content ahead

Full pic on my Ao3 and Poipiku 🐍 Ominis’ version

“Look at yourself. I am doing this to you. You’re mine. No one else's.” You couldn't tear your gaze away from the mirror as he made you his.

Sebastian Sallow, the boy who had captured your heart in 5th year, was now just a memory. After everything that had happened with his uncle and the relic, you couldn't bring yourself to continue with your relationship. He spent one year in Azkaban, paying for his crimes before finally being released.

But 6th year at Hogwarts just wasn't the same without him. The classes felt dull and lifeless without his charming wit and adventurous spirit. The Undercroft, where you had shared countless secret conversations and stolen kisses, now felt hauntingly empty. 

Then, in 7th year, he returned. Rumors spread like wildfire about why he had seemingly transferred to homeschool - some said it was to help his sister Anne catch up on her studies. But only you and Ominis knew the truth behind his absence - the pain and guilt of what he had done.

As you watched him from across the Great Hall, your heart still ached for what could have been if things had gone differently. You missed him. You wanted to run to him and tackle him with a never ending hug, and fill every freckle in his face with your kisses.

But then, as the memories came flooding back, you remembered. You've written to him every single day for an entire year. Each letter carefully crafted and sent with hope and longing. And yet, every one of them was returned to your hands with a familiar red stamp: rejected by the recipient. 

He took a seat next to Ominis, not even sparing a glance in your direction. His gaze, or lack thereof, felt like a heavy brick wall crushing down on you. You stood up from the table, completely abandoning your untouched dinner. You needed to be alone. To escape the suffocating anxiety that was building inside of you. He was so close, yet so far away.

Leaving the Great Hall with a calm facade, tears begin to flow freely as soon as you're out of sight. The haunting image of him sitting mere inches away from you is burned into your mind. 

Seeking refuge in the abandoned Haunted Toilets, typically reserved for Peeves, you let out all of your pent-up emotion in a torrent of tears. The grimy, cracked walls amplified your sobs, sending painful echoes reverberating through the empty bathroom.

"Why does it still hurt?" You cried to yourself, the weight of your longing for Sebastian crushing down on your heart. You could feel his absence like a physical ache, You yearned for his warm touch, the gentle caress of his hands, and the familiar scent that always comforted you. Every aspect of him felt like a distant memory that only intensified the pain in your soul.

The door creaked open behind you, and there he was. Sebastian stood in the doorway, his tall frame silhouetted by the moonlight streaming in from the window. The light played across his freckles, turning them into shimmering specks of gold. He watched you crumble before him, his arms crossed in front of his chest. His eyes bore into you, demanding an explanation. 

"Tell me, NOW." Sebastian demanded, his voice hard and unforgiving.

You couldn't believe it. After a whole year of ignoring your letters, worries, and heartache, those were the first words that came out of his mouth?

"What do you want me to tell you, Sallow?" you spat back at him, anger bubbling up inside of you. You violently wiped away the tears that had escaped down your cheeks. 

Sebastian's eyebrows furrowed in concern as he looked at you skeptically, his arms uncrossing as he took a step closer. 

"You don't look fine to me," he said softly, his eyes scanning your face for any signs of distress. "You know you can tell me anything. We may not be together anymore, but I still care about you."

We may not be together anymore, but I still care about you. The hypocrisy. His words hit you like a punch to the gut, reminding you of the love that was once there between you two.

"What do you want from me, Sallow?" You spat out his name with venom, your voice trembling with emotion. "I gave you everything in our 5th year. My time, my patience, my loyalty, my devotion. What else do you wish to take from me? I'm here at Hogwarts, alone, ignored by you while Ominis is probably already waiting for me in the Undercroft to hear my sad thoughts for the millionth time." Tears welled up in your eyes again, threatening to spill over onto your swollen cheeks.

He closed the door behind him with a soft click, making it feel like a finality. You heard the lock turning, sealing you both inside the small room and shutting out the rest of the world. The air between you two felt thick and suffocating, filled with unspoken words and unresolved feelings. 

He prowled towards you with the quiet, calculated movements of a wolf stalking its prey in the cover of night. His eyes gleamed with a predatory hunger, and you could feel his gaze raking over your trembling form. A shiver ran down your spine as he continued to close the distance between you, his steps almost silent on the humid stone floor. 

"Do not come any closer Sallow" You warned, pointing your wand at him. The point of your wand hummed with energy, ready to unleash its magic at your command.

“Do it” Sebastian growled through clenched teeth “Curse me, Y/N. I don't give a damn. After everything I went through in Azkaban, do you think you can hurt me any further?. “ Your trembling wand pinched his chest as he kept walking towards you.

 “Do you?” His voice boomed off the walls, echoing in your ears. 

“I rotted in that hellhole for a year. I was utterly alone, without Anne or Ominis or you. I knew I deserved everything that happened to me. But most of all, I deserved to be left by you. You deserve better than me. You deserve someone better not a-” He choked on the word before spitting it out with disgust- “murderer.” 

Tears welled up in your eyes as his words pierced your heart, but you refused to let them fall.

“I pushed you away because I thought I could never earn your love again,” he continued, his voice breaking with every word. “When I was in Azkaban, when I was losing my grip on reality, all I could do was beg in my head to hear your voice, to smell your scent, to taste you one last time. But I didn't deserve it. I didn't deserve you. I still don’t. ” The pain and regret in his voice were palpable.

With a sharp intake of breath, you closed the distance between you and Sebastian. The sound of your palm striking his cheek echoed through the walls.

How dare he? How dare he confess that you deserved more, a better man? The anger burned inside you as you thought about all the letters he had ignored, the anguish, tears, sorrow, and love that he had chosen to disregard. 

"I'll stand by you through this, and in all our other lives, Sebastian Sallow. But if you choose to delve deeper into the dangerous world of Dark Arts, pushing me away as you go down a path towards self-destruction, do not expect me to follow. I love you too much to watch you fall apart." Your words were laced with equal parts passion and desperation, a final plea for him to see reason before it was too late.

With a heavy heart, you began to turn away, your steps slow and hesitant. As you clicked the lock open, ready to exit the bathroom and leave this tense encounter behind you, a sudden force seized your waist and yanked you back inside. The sound of your sharp intake of breath was drowned out by the thud of the door closing behind you.

"You're not going anywhere," Sebastian's voice was low and rough with emotion, "not before I give you a proper apology." 

He lifted you up and pinned you against the door with ease, his strong hands gripping your sides firmly. Your own hands instinctively reached up to cling to his neck, fingers digging into his skin as if seeking reassurance. 

Your lips collided in a violent and heated kiss, the passion between you both exploding like a firework. Your teeth clashing against his, causing the taste of metal to run across your lips. The intensity of the moment consumed you as you pulled, pushed, and shook him, unable to control your desire for this man. You didn't know what you wanted to do with him, but you just needed him, desperately.

 “Sebastian, I-” 

“Shut your pretty little mouth.” Your words were cut off by his rough command. 

As you kissed, your fingers traced over the soft strands of his hair, relishing in the familiar sensation. It had been so long since you had felt his touch, and you had missed it dearly. The scent of him filled your senses, a mix of wood and fresh cut grass that was uniquely him. His breath was sweet as honey and seemed to wash over you like a warm embrace. Memories flooded back as you savored the moment. 

“Let me devour you...please.” Sebastian’s tone was like that of a wild animal, asking permission to feast on its prey. It was almost pathetic how much he craved you.

But as he moved in for another kiss, you turned your cheek and whispered in his ear:

“No. Apologize first.”

Sebastian was determined to earn that apology. His sharp gaze met yours as he carefully set you down on your feet, his movements deliberate and purposeful. 

He kneeled before you and his head got lost in the folds of your skirt. As if seeking absolution, he began to worship every inch of skin above your knees with his lips. each kiss like a sweet offering of repentance.

Slowly, his kisses trailed up your thighs, inching higher and higher until they reached your inner thighs. You could feel the heat emanating from your core, begging for more. And Sebastian was all too willing to give it.

With rough hands, he parted your legs and pressed himself against you, feeling the intense heat radiating from your entrance. He couldn't resist any longer and continued to trail his kisses higher and higher until he buried his nose between your soaked panties. The sensation caused you to moan loudly, unable to contain yourself. 

His strong hands traveled to your hips, pushing you against the wall for support as your legs threatened to give out under the overwhelming pleasure that was coursing through your body. And in that moment, with Sebastian's lips and hands worshipping every inch of you. 

With a careful tug of his teeth, he removed your lace panties and let them drop to the floor at your feet, leaving you bare and exposed. 

Your body responded instinctually, reaching out to grip his head and guide him to where you needed him most. His tongue was like a delicately placed brush, painting slow and deliberate strokes across your sensitive flesh as he savored the sweet taste of your arousal. Your hips began to sway in time with his movements, rolling forward and back in an erotic rhythm. Your knees clenched tightly around his head, holding him in place as he worshipped you with his mouth.

Each flick of his tongue sent shivers coursing through your body, causing you to moan uncontrollably. As the passion built and your bodies intertwined, beads of sweat formed on your skin, adding to the intense heat radiating between you. The bathroom mirrors were steamed up from the steamy encounter, the only source of light being the soft glow of moonlight filtering through the window. 

Your moans warned Sebastian that you were nearing your limit, he only seemed to be spurred on by the challenge. With his strong, calloused hand, he traced a path down your body, his touch sending shivers of anticipation coursing through your veins. 

You couldn't help but twitch in response, eager for what was about to unfold. He then slowly, tantalizingly, slid his index finger inside your warm and inviting body, causing you to let out a feral growl of pleasure. 

This was a sensation he had only given you once before - before everything fell apart. Before the fifth year intervened and brought chaos into your relationship. Before the cursed relic came between you. Before the painful breakup that tore your hearts apart. And now here you were, reunited and rediscovering the passion that still burned between you.

Every nerve in your body was on high alert as the sensations from his touch washed over you. This wasn't like your first time with him at the dimly lit Undercroft, this was something else entirely; a chaotic and wild frenzy of desire. 

He pushed his index finger in and out of your entrance in a perfect rhythm, each thrust causing your walls to tighten around him. The sound of his voice, deep and almost demonic, made you let out a loud cry 

"After all this time...you're still so tight for me, Y/N," you heard Sebastian growl, his words laced with possessiveness and hunger.

You were wild and unapologetic, a naughty young woman who reveled in the forbidden pleasure of rocking your hips against your loved one. Sebastian, the man who had pushed you away for almost a year, was like a drug to you. You couldn't resist his touch, his alluring presence. It was like coming home after a long journey. 

As he slipped two fingers inside you, you gasped in ecstasy.

"You're taking me so good, my love." You gasped as Sebastian added a third finger, filling you completely. 

The sensations in your G Spot were intoxicating, sending shivers of pleasure through your body as your walls tightened around his fingers. You reached your climax and fell to your knees, still trembling with desire for him.

With a soft cry, you pulled him out of you slowly, savoring every moment of pleasure before he slipped away from you. Your body ached for more, but even in the absence of his touch, you could still feel the lingering effects of his fingers inside you. It was a bittersweet ache that only he could soothe.

He raised his hand to his lips, savoring the lingering essence of your orgasm and the wetness that coated them. 

A smile played on his lips as he whispered, "Your taste hasn't changed a bit, my love." 

He couldn't resist any longer and dove in to kiss you on the humid floor. Your legs welcomed him eagerly, wrapping around his waist as your bodies molded together. 

You could feel his cock throbbing painfully hard against his clothes, a testament to his desire for you. The stain of his pre-cum, evidence of how much he wanted you, had made an appearance earlier as he went down on you. Your inner thigh still glistened with it. 

Before things could get too heated on the floor, he pulled away abruptly.

"Get up," he commanded. "You're too delicate to be fucked on the floor, dear." In a heartbeat, he was on his feet and effortlessly lifting you up off the ground. He pressed you against the sink, making you face the mirror so you could watch every moment of what was about to happen next.

As you looked at yourself in the mirror, a blood-curdling scream threatened to escape your lips. 

Your hair was a tangled mess, strands sticking out in all directions as if they had been struck by lightning. And your blouse - which one were you even wearing? Blinking, you realized that Sebastian must have taken it off of you without you even noticing. Thank Merlin your bra was a decent one, its deep red hue matching perfectly with Sebastian's favorite color. Though now, it felt like a symbol of his possession over you. Your reflection seemed almost unreal, as if you were looking at a stranger who had been ravaged by desire and abandoned by all sense of control.

“Look how beautiful you are,” he whispered, his voice low and husky. His hand gently caressed your cheek as he gazed at you with adoration. “Look at yourself. I am doing this to you. You’re mine. No one else's.” His words sent a thrill of excitement through your body. You couldn't tear your gaze away from the mirror as he made you his, his hands exploring every inch of your bare skin. 

Your lips parted to speak, but before any words could escape, you felt his hard length pressing against your ass. 

He noticed your hesitation and spoke softly, “Tell me, what is it?” Your eyes met his in the reflection of the mirror, filled with longing and desire.

Without another thought, you looked over your shoulder at him, silently pleading for more. You wanted to feel his warmth, his body pressed against yours. You've missed him and he could see that in your eyes. As you stood there almost naked and vulnerable, he remained fully dressed.

He stepped away from you, not breaking eye contact in the mirror. 

Slowly, deliberately, he began to undress himself. First came his cloak, sliding off his shoulders with ease. Then, with just two fingers, he released his tie and looped it around his neck. Next went his vest and suspenders, each piece discarded with a practiced grace. 

You couldn't tear your gaze away as he stripped down before you, watching every movement in the reflection of the mirror.

With only his pants remaining, his arousal stood tall and hard before him. He closed the distance between you and began to kiss the nape of your neck, trailing his hands over every inch of your exposed skin. As he reached behind you to knot his loosened tie around your wrists, you trembled with anticipation.

His warm breath danced across your ear and the sensitive skin of your neck as he moved closer. The scent of him enveloped you, sweet and intoxicating.

"I miss the way you say my name, love," he purred as he wrapped his hands around your tightly bound wrists and pulled you closer to him. His voice was like a velvety whisper. "Say it."

 You hesitated for a moment, unable to resist getting lost in the reflection of his intense gaze. His piercing eyes seemed to see straight through you, leaving you vulnerable and exposed. 

He pressed his cock against your closed thighs, teasing and tormenting you with each subtle movement. A bead of precum escaped from the tip of his member and dripped between your legs, igniting a deep ache within you. His throbbing erection came tantalizingly close to your folds, tempting and teasing you further. 

Desperately wanting to catch a glimpse of him, you dared to look down but he quickly tugged on the tie that bound your wrists together. The sensation made you moaned as he held you in place.

���Say my name first”.

“Sebastian” You whispered in a very low voice. 

He shoved his cock closer to your entrance, brushing your clit.

“Louder” 

“Sebastian” - A little higher. 

“You can do better than that”

"S-Sebastian, please-" 

The sound of your breathless pleading was music to Sebastian's ears.Your voice quivered with need and anticipation, the same plea you had made when you lost your virginity to him. 

He pressed himself against your back, pushing you against the cold marble sink. His strong hands grasped your hips, spreading your buttocks apart. Thanks to all the skilled work he had done with his tongue and fingers earlier, he had no trouble penetrating you in a heartbeat.

A primal growl escaped your chest as he began to thrust his hips slowly against yours. Your core eagerly welcomed him, craving his touch. Every thrust sent sparks of pleasure through your body, your walls clenching tightly around him in ecstasy.

The sounds of your wetness mingled with the sound of skin slapping against skin as he drove into you over and over again. The heady scent of sex filled the air, making your head spin and your senses reel. With every movement, you felt yourself getting closer and closer to the edge, until finally you tumbled over, crying out his name as waves of pleasure washed over you.

“F-Fuck, you’re so tight, my love” Sebastian groaned, his voice strained with desire. 

You whimpered in ecstasy as he maintained a firm grip on your restrained wrists, his other hand skillfully undoing the clasp of your red lace bra with one hand. The delicate fabric fell away, revealing your breasts to him. They bounced and swayed with each thrust of his hips, drawing his gaze to your hardened pink nipples. Without hesitation, he swung you around and carried you into one of the closed stalls, never breaking contact with your body as he sucked on your sensitive peaks. The sensation was like a slow burn, building up until it consumed your entire being. 

With a firm hand, he pushed the stall door closed behind you, trapping you against the cold wooden surface. His strong arms lifted you up, your legs instinctively wrapping around his hips as he devoured your lips with his own. The heat of his body pressed against yours, igniting a fire within you.

“I’ll fuck you in every possible corner in Hogwarts, do you understand me?”

His hands roamed over your body, drawing gentle circles on your breasts before squeezing them and eliciting a moan of pleasure from you. He couldn't resist the taste of you any longer and eagerly sucked on your skin, savoring every moment of finally being able to have you. Just when you thought he would change positions again, he lowered you down a bit, and with an abrupt move he claimed you as his own, pulling your body inside of him. 

A sharp moan escaped your lips as Sebastian guided your weight. Every movement was under his control - how you entered him, how you exited him. As you looked down, you saw your glistening pussy eagerly welcoming his hard cock, sliding in and out of you with each thrust. Your hot juices threatened to splash against his lower stomach, evidence of the intense pleasure between you. 

Your vision blurred as he consumed you, making it difficult to focus on the sight of him thrusting into your soaking wet pussy. You instinctively reached out and grabbed onto his back, digging your nails into his skin as you moaned in ecstasy. Resting your chin on his shoulder, you were able to catch a glimpse of his reflection in a small mirror positioned perfectly in front of you. The defined muscles of his back flexed and strained with each powerful movement, adding to the intensity of the moment. As he continued to penetrate you, his perfectly round and smooth ass tensed and relaxed, driving you closer to the edge. 

Sebastian looked over his shoulder and caught you watching him.His eyes locked with yours, a wicked grin spreading across his lips before he resumed his sensual assault on your body. 

"Take my cock," Sebastian growled, his voice thick with desire. "Take it all in. You belong to me, now and always. You’re mine."

You surrendered to his words, feeling a rush of pleasure coursing through your body as he thrust deeper inside you. Your nails dug into his back, leaving red marks in their wake as you lost yourself in the intense sensation.

With each moan and gasp that escaped your lips, Sebastian's own sounds grew louder. His arousal building until he couldn't hold back any longer. With one final, primal grunt, he released himself inside you, filling you with his warm seed.

Both of you collapsed into each other's embrace, your bodies forming a perfect fit, you could feel his warmth radiating against your skin. The intensity of your hug made it seem as though the world had faded away. Your legs were wobbly and weak, but his strong grip held you steady. His chest rose and fell rapidly against yours, the sound of his racing heartbeat filling your ears. It was a familiar sound that you had longed to hear again.

He held onto you tightly, facing you with an intense gaze as if he never wanted to let go. His nose buried into the soft skin of your neck, taking in your scent, and his arms wrapped around you like a protective shield.

As your bodies intertwined in a warm embrace, his breath tickled your ear as he whispered those familiar words.

"Ever thy. Ever mine. Ever ours." You melted into him, gazing into his hazelnut eyes, now filled with sincerity and regret. It was the same quote you had signed each letter you sent him with, a constant reminder of your love for him. 

"Y-You read them? You-" Your voice trembled with emotion as you tried to comprehend his actions.

He had read them all, despite wanting to push you away and make you forget about him. A pang of regret shot through his voice as he continued, "I wanted to break your heart and make you hate me, to erase myself from your life. And for that, I am deeply sorry. I have read every word, every letter, written with nothing but love and anguish from your hand and soul." Tears pricked at the corners of your eyes as you realized how much he had suffered silently, just like you.

Tears glistened in his eyes as he repeated, "I-am-sorry," his voice cracking with raw and intense emotion. 

You gently pressed your lips against his swollen ones, the warmth of your touch bringing a sense of comfort to his beautiful face adorned with scattered freckles.

"You're forgiven." You whispered softly.

👉 It was Sebastian's turn >:)

👉 And in B&W because I did not feel like coloring today

[sunnyrealist]

Chapter 01: A Prologue Chapter 02: Yellow Personified

The Sun, the Moon, and All Our Stars (rewritten!)

Hi! After working on this story for about a year and a half, I've decided to take a break from creating new chapters for now to focus on rewriting from the beginning. I hope you'll give the new and improved version a chance. Constructive feedback is always welcome and much appreciated!

Nine years after the events of Hogwarts Legacy, Sebastian Sallow has little hope for a positive future. While serving a life sentence in Azkaban, he managed to escape with the assistance of a terroristic organization of Dark wizards. When the Ministry of Magic eventually caught up with Sebastian, he struck a deal to serve as a double-agent and bring the gang to justice as a means to his freedom. Lonely, traumatized, and depressed, he never imagines his luck will change. But one moonlit night, it does. Fate intervenes in the form of Kate Mayflower, the Hogwarts assistant librarian. Infinitely optimistic and kind, she helps Sebastian find joy and peace again as he regains his humanity and rebuilds his life. While their journey towards happily ever after is a turbulent one, they slowly learn to trust in each other, believe in the power of true love, and heed the lessons from the past in order to grow. Tags: Romance, Fluff, Fast Relationship, Strangers to Lovers, Smut, Adult Relationship, Settling Down, Happily Ever After, True Love, Domestic Bliss, Soulmates, Fate, Reincarnation/Past Lives, Mutual Pining, Humor and Banter, Redemption, Drama, Angst, Secrets, Trauma and Healing, Coping Mechanisms, Grief, Hurt/Comfort, Dark Magic, Wizarding World Gangs, Undercover Work, Violence and Danger, Death, Revenge, Familial Relationships, Parental Disapproval, Pureblood Society, Expectations, Friendship, Kindness and Compassion, Goals, Hopes and Dreams, Illustrations Pairing: 25-year-old, post-Azkaban Sebastian Sallow x 24-year-old Kate Mayflower, my original character and the Hogwarts assistant librarian Word Count for First Two Chapters: ~4970 Art Credit: @giselsann Link to Wattpad Link to AO3

Chapter 01: A Prologue

Albert Sallow glanced at his watch. 9:15. Scribbling his name and the time into the log, he yawned fiercely, recalling the early morning wake-up caused by his screaming infant daughter. He shook his head at the memory. The moment he heard the baby’s wails, Albert had darted out of bed so that Sage, his exhausted wife, could take in a few more hours of much-needed sleep. Never mind that he had been assigned a nearly impossible task at work; she deserved the rest. 

As an Unspeakable in the Department of Mysteries, Albert could not disclose, even to Sage, what his work entailed. Her curiosity was endless, yet he could not even breathe a word to her. Little did she know that Albert’s own family heirlooms - rather famous ones - had suddenly disappeared. 

The door to the Love Room unlatched as soon as Albert’s name was written in the log. He opened the huge door only just enough to sidle inside, then closed it immediately. Hit with the enchanting scent of honey, lavender, and jasmine, he knew that the Amortentia fountain was in full working order. It was difficult to focus at times when he needed to work here; sometimes, he even needed a charm to dull the scent before his mind was flooded with thoughts and images of his wife. 

Strolling towards the shelves, Albert's eyes searched for the box he needed. “S. and K. Sallow, 1874-1979.” He lifted it up, taking it to the large community desk across the expansive space. Inside were various items and a large black binder. Easing himself into the leather chair, he flipped the binder open. Paintings and photographs of a happy, handsome couple through the years, letters, copies of an ancient spell, and more filled the file. 

The end of the binder contained two empty pockets in which very small artifacts could be stored. There were two images of the items inside the pockets - precisely what Albert needed. He plucked the photographs from the binder, using a charm to copy them. 

The artifacts in question were two ancient moonstone rings. 

Somehow, the rings had vanished from their place within the case file. Albert’s boss had pulled him aside to explain the situation regarding the bands; since they were Sallow family heirlooms, it was in Albert’s best interest to investigate and locate them.

The case file of Sebastian and Kate Sallow was well-known to the Unspeakables who worked full-time in the Love Room. Reincarnation was not a topic widely understood, despite centuries of research and experimentation. Albert, though not an employee in this particular department, was fascinated with their story. He was too young to have known his ancestors personally, yet he felt a deep connection to them and their lives. Perhaps because his great-great-great grandmother had been a librarian and avid bookworm, their story had been well-documented and preserved through the years. He was eager to locate the rings that had caused the couple’s reincarnation and reunion and supposedly would allow them to be born again in another lifetime. The Love Room Unspeakables did not believe that the reincarnation process had continued as of yet; they were waiting and watching for certain conditions to take root. It could potentially take centuries, they explained, but Sebastian and Kate would live on, thanks to an ancient spell and the rings.

Albert hoped that whenever it were to happen, that their souls would have a much easier time of it than in their past iterations.  

Examining the time yet again, Albert found it was 9:32 now. He spent a moment considering his schedule today and realized he was not officially needed anywhere until his meeting in the late afternoon. Knowing he may have some hours to himself in this room, he decided to read through the case file again.

Chapter 02: Yellow Personified

Diagon Alley, May 1899

Loud hollering and laughter carry across the tavern. 

The Leaky Cauldron is more alive tonight than Sebastian Sallow was hoping. Drowning in Firewhisky is not quite as easy when one’s attention is constantly drawn elsewhere. His jealousy, masked as annoyance, is clear as he scowls at the table across the pub that seems to be causing at least half of the noise. There, a group of about ten young adults grin, cackle, and shout in merriment. Sebastian wonders how long they’ve been here, hoping they’ll all be on their way soon so he can properly wallow in his darkness and misery. It’s impossible to achieve when the sounds of content companionship fill the air. Their table is littered with empty mugs and cocktail glasses - perhaps they’ve had enough. Narrowing his gaze, he throws suggestive thoughts their way, trying to anchor them to their minds. Float on home now. Time to leave.  

No such luck. 

Instead, there are encouraging shouts as a young woman stands and glides to the front of the large table with the grace of a selkie goddess. As if a life preserver was thrown his way, his interest suddenly awakens and bobs to the surface. His eyes grow wide.

She tucks a strand of her long, blonde hair behind her ear and then throws the rest of it behind her, letting it settle midway down her back. The ocean of her hair is calm, with waves only at the bottom, carrying daisy passengers up above. Her dress, yellow and long, only adds to the effect of the sea at sunset. It rides her body tightly, accentuating the feminine curves of her body; her breasts swell and fall, only for her hips to ripple out again, and then subside. Her short sleeves are puffed, keeping her fashionably afloat. 

Brown packages and bags decorated with colorful ribbons are tossed to the head of their table as offerings to the golden angel. She smiles, her rosy pink lips widening before her perfect teeth. Her eyes sparkle as she listens and nods, agreeing to something. Then, her dainty hands begin to untie a bow and rip open the paper of one of the presents. She shrieks with laughter upon opening the box. Sebastian strains his eyes, trying to determine what was inside, but he’s just too far away to be able to tell. All of her companions erupt into giggles, men and women alike.

As the young lady speaks and picks up the next gift, her head suddenly turns Sebastian’s way, her eyes focusing directly on him. He realizes he has been watching her for far too long. Immediately, his eyes flick down to his Firewhisky, feigning fascination in its composition. She narrows her view, looking for just a moment longer before returning to the attention of her friends. 

Sebastian knows he shouldn’t keep staring. He knows. He just can’t seem to help it, continuing to observe her for hours like a creep while he nurses drink after drink. It takes a great deal to get him buzzed these days; alcohol is just about one of his only escapes from the daily torture of his pathetic, meaningless existence. What’s the harm in looking at a beautiful girl for a while, anyway? It’s not like she’d ever want to talk with him. She has her people; he has his bottle. He takes a large swig of his Firewhisky, enjoying the burn as it distracts him momentarily.

When Sebastian orders another round, the barkeep gives him a pitiful look. He scowls at this; he doesn’t deserve anyone’s sympathy. He fixes his gaze on the countertop in front of him. Then a familiar feeling settles; someone is watching. Sebastian’s senses pick up on this immediately, his eyes opening wide to scan his surroundings. It’s her. Yellow personified. She’s studying him. When her eyes meet his, she turns pink for a moment, then looks away. 

A wordless game of spying continues. As the night goes on, Sebastian observes as the girl’s companions start to disperse, one by one. By 12:30, only two of her friends remain, holding hands and whispering in each other’s ears. The golden girl smiles and speaks to them from time to time. She glances at Sebastian frequently with curiosity.

His brows lift when she stands up, an empty drink in her hand. He follows her with his eyes as she makes her way over to the bar, slinging a purse over her shoulder. As she strolls towards two empty stools, her eyes flick up to Sebastian’s, but when she notices his own gaze mirroring hers, her head whips away from him, embarrassed to be caught. 

Should I approach her? Is it worth it? He weighs his options as she comes closer.

Two teenage girls sitting nearby decide to vacate their seats. One of them clearly drank far more than she could handle; she appears dazed and stumbles off of her stool. She attempts to correct her footing but fails, bumping hard into Yellow Personified. The empty tumbler she was kindly bringing back to the barkeep slips from her grasp and shatters on the wooden floor; her bag also tumbles to the ground, its contents spilling everywhere. The teenager slurs a pathetic apology, rushing out of the pub with her friend’s arm around her. 

Sebastian immediately rushes to her aid. She already has drawn her wand, casting a charm to repair the broken cup. 

He smiles as he crouches down beside her. “Please, allow me to help.”

He quickly gathers some of the items that fell, placing them back into her purse - a quill, a silver comb, a barrette decorated with pearls, and a tiny tin filled with peppermints. Finally, he notices a piece of parchment that had fluttered out, and he grabs it. Before he can stop himself, his curiosity gets the better of him; he discovers that it is a to-do list on the official stationery of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. A student? She doesn’t seem young enough… When his eyes quickly read through some of the items on the list, it quickly becomes clear to him that she must be a staff member. 

“Oh, thank you,” she murmurs to Sebastian as the glass rematerializes in her left hand. 

“Of course,” he replies, his voice low. He holds out the parchment. As she takes it from his hand, her fingers brush his, causing her breath to hitch. “Wouldn’t want you to forget to… write letters of recommendation for the seventh-year helpers, now, would we?” He chuckles. 

She gently takes the to-do list from him, an expression of mirth on her face. “We certainly wouldn’t.” Her grin and giggle are infectious and impossible to resist. 

Finally getting to see her closely, he is taken aback by her eyes - sparkling, bright, and as blue as the summer sky. He gazes into them for a moment longer than he should, already feeling as though he has lost all ability to think or reason. Everything and everyone else has disappeared, and all that exists is her sweet laughter, her joy, her… sunshine.

When the two of them stand, Sebastian discovers that she is far more petite than he realized when he had studied her from afar. He easily has twenty centimeters on her, if not more. Her physique is feminine, and he imagines that underneath her clothing, her form might be quite similar to sculptures of ancient Greek goddesses. Everything about her seems soft and curvy and heavenly to touch. 

She’s beautiful. Absolutely beautiful.

Sebastian knows that his chance of anything serious with her is slim to none. He has nothing to offer. Who in their right mind would have any interest in someone like him? He is a criminal - not just that but a murderer. He barely managed to escape a life sentence in Azkaban prison and only did so with the help of the most notorious terrorist group in the British Wizarding World. He is a man whose freedom relies entirely on the whims of the Ministry of Magic’s Department of Magical Law Enforcement and whether they continue to deem him competent enough to continue serving as a double-agent to bring down that very same gang. He has no money, nor a permanent place to call home. The unfortunate truth is that he is a bloke with no connections - he has no one he truly considers real friends, and, well, his entire family is dead. The list of qualities deeming him unsuitable as a long-term partner is endless. 

But yet, something within him urges him to try. It isn’t likely to pan out, but she seems so sweet and friendly - what if it could?

And if it couldn’t, he still might play his cards well enough to have her in bed tonight.

“Sebastian Sallow,” he introduces himself, holding out his hand. “May I have the pleasure of making your acquaintance?”

She accepts it, studying him excitedly. “I’m Kate Mayflower.”

Like a proper gentleman, Sebastian leans down, briefly pressing his lips to her dainty hand. “It’s lovely to meet you, Kate.” He allows his hand to linger on hers for a moment longer than necessary. “You seem familiar to me somehow, but I don’t believe we have met before.”

“I thought the same,” she acknowledges, flushing pink.

“May I buy you a drink?” he asks, hopeful.

Kate smiles. “Thank you. That’s very kind.”

As he ushers her towards two empty seats at the bar, he adds, “I… take it that you are celebrating tonight. Is it your birthday?”

“Yes, it is,” she replies as she settles on the stool. “My 24th.”

“Well, happy birthday, and many happy returns.” He gets the attention of the barkeep. “A butterbeer for me, and for the lady…”

“A Fizzy Lemon, please,” Kate orders. “Thank you.” She pauses, then turns towards Sebastian. “So… What brings you to the Leaky Cauldron tonight?”

“It’s been a long week at work. I came to relax, have a drink, and just do some people-watching,” he answers. “I’m an Auror.”

Impressed, Kate’s eyebrows rise. “Really? That has to be an interesting profession. I know how difficult it is to get into that line of work. A couple of acquaintances of mine tried, but they didn’t make it past the application process. So many requirements…” 

“That’s true. Luckily, I had the right connections and skills,” he tells her with a smirk. “What about you? You work at Hogwarts, right? I saw the insignia on your parchment.”

Kate eyes him in wonder. “You’re quick to catch on. Yes, I work at Hogwarts. I’m the assistant librarian.” 

He inhales sharply in surprise and delight. “Really? You’re a librarian at Hogwarts?”

“Yeah. I love it there, but… I am definitely looking forward to the summer holiday. I can’t wait to catch up on some novels I’ve saved. Working with the students is great, but it is so tedious to clean up after them all the time. That, well, and working with Madam Scribner… definitely takes a toll.” She gauges his reaction, knowing full well that almost everyone who ever went to Hogwarts hates Madam Scribner.

A goofy smile creeps across Sebastian’s cheeks as Kate mentions his least favorite staff member in a negative light. “You must be a saint for working with Madam Scribner. She used to hate me when I was a student. I was always sneaking into the restricted section.” He laughs, and his expression turns a bit sheepish.

Kate begins chattering away now that she knows they have a common enemy. “Well, Madam Scribner has been talking about retiring for years now. I am hoping this is her final year so I can finally have the- oh, I shouldn’t even breathe it! I’m getting ahead of myself.” Kate pauses, stopping herself from saying too much. “Anyway, she and I have very different perspectives on the library in general. Personally, if a younger student has a good enough reason, I’ll let them right into the restricted section.” Kate tucks a strand of hair behind her ear, then grins mischievously. “So, you were a bit naughty at Hogwarts, Sebastian? What were your reasons for needing the restricted section?”

“My parents were professors long ago, and they instilled in me a thirst for knowledge. There are so many things Hogwarts doesn’t teach, and I took it upon myself to learn all I could, even if some of the information might have been considered… controversial.” A nostalgic look comes over his face. “To be completely fair, I was quite the troublemaker back then, and I very much enjoyed annoying Madam Scribner.”

Kate bursts out laughing just as their drinks are delivered. Sebastian pays and thanks the bartender.

She takes a sip of her bubbly cocktail. “So, erm, anyways… Why don’t you tell me a bit more about yourself, Sebastian?” 

“Did you want to know anything specific?” 

“The basics…? Like, how old are you? Where do you live?” Kate asks with great interest.

Keep it simple - keep it safe. “I’m 25 years old - almost 26. I’m from Feldcroft.”

“I’ve never heard of Feldcroft. Where is it?” Kate smiles.

“It’s a wizarding village located in the Highlands. Where do you live, Kate?”

“Hogsmeade. I moved there a couple of years ago when I got my job at Hogwarts. I’m originally from Epping Forest, though, where my parents still live. It’s somewhat close to London,” she explains.

“The name sounds familiar,” he responds, then pauses, considering where to take it from here. He decides to turn on the charm. “You know, I… was not expecting to meet someone so pretty tonight. When I arrived here earlier, I noticed you right away. I wanted to talk with you, but I wasn’t sure I could get you alone. I’m glad I did.”

Kate blushes at his bold statement but smiles and decides to take a chance. He is rather handsome. “I… noticed you, too.” She meets his eyes. “I was hoping there would be a reason for our paths to cross. Good thing someone bumped into me and caused a mess.”

They both chuckle.

“I hope you don’t consider this too forward,” Sebastian begins, his heart pounding in anticipation, “but I would love to take you out on a date and get to know you better, Kate.”

“I would like that,” she replies with a grin.

“When… would be a good time for you?” he inquires.

“How about…?” She thinks for a moment until her face lights up. “You know what? How about now?”

“Now?” he asks, surprised at her boldness. 

“Yeah. Now,” she replies, nodding. “I’m not tired, and… honestly, it’s a perfect night for a stroll. What do you say?”

He laughs. “I’m not tired anymore, either. In fact, I haven’t felt this awake in a long time, if I’m completely honest.” A lopsided smile tugs at his lips. “A stroll sounds amazing. We could enjoy this drink together and then head out.” 

“My only concern,” Kate begins, taking a quick sip, “is that I am here with my friends, Pearl and Felix, and they’ll be expecting me to return. Maybe you could join us for a few drinks…” She gestures towards their table across the pub, only to discover that the two are making out, not caring at all about the setting. She practically chokes on her cocktail.

Sebastian can barely contain his laughter when he sees that they are passionately kissing. “Your friends seem to be… enjoying themselves.” 

“Merlin, how indecent!” Kate giggles, red in the face. “Well, I suppose we don’t need to worry much about them, then! They’re plenty busy now.” 

His laughter grows as they observe the scene. “I think you’re right. As fun as it might be to meet your friends, Kate…” He leans in, gently taking her hand. “...I would rather give you all of my attention tonight.” 

Kate inhales sharply at the contact. His hand is hot to the touch, rough and calloused; it easily devours hers. Her heartbeat quickens. Something about him - she can’t place it and doesn't know what it is… is right. His hand over hers just feels… right. Her chest rises and falls as she contemplates what this is between them, why he seems so familiar, and how she is able to be so daring with him so quickly. She’s always been a confident young woman, but… normally, her instinct is to be meek in romantic relationships, as she was taught was proper for a lady. But something inside of her has been urging her all night to seize this opportunity, to not let it pass by as a fleeting encounter.

She doesn’t know if this will truly go anywhere, but what harm is done in getting to know someone better? And if it goes nowhere, at least it could make for a memorable birthday story… 

“So, Sebastian, what are some of your interests? What do you enjoy?” Kate asks, stirring her cocktail.

After a brief moment of consideration, he answers, “Reading. I love reading. I always have. I fly through books - any kind.” He chuckles softly. “I suppose we’re a good match, considering you’re a librarian.” 

She offers an amused grin in response. “Maybe we are. So, what else?”

“Hmm… learning and research. I like magical history, theory, mythology - honestly, most subjects, really. I’m an excellent duelist. I try to keep up with new techniques, spells, all that.” He drinks some of his butterbeer. “I enjoy the outdoors. Walking, hiking, exploring, camping, flying… I love getting fresh air.”

“I like being outside, too, but I’ve never gone camping before. I’m not sure it’s for me. I’m not used to… roughing it,” she admits. “I mean, I don’t know, maybe I do to a point. I’m an avid gardener, so I’m not exactly afraid to get my hands dirty. I grow a lot of items I use in cooking and baking. I’m told I’m rather good at it.”

“You’re a chef, and I love to eat. You’re a librarian, and I love to read. How… perfect,” Sebastian notes. 

Kate enjoys more of her beverage, her glass more than half empty now. “So… since we’re on an ‘official’ date now, I guess I’d like to know… “How long has it been since you were in a relationship?” 

Sebastian pauses in thought for a few moments before he speaks. “If I really think about it, I haven’t been in a proper relationship since I was in school at Hogwarts. I’ve been out with women here and there, but…” he trails off. 

“Oh, I see. Too busy at work?” Kate suggests, quickly filling in the blank. “I’m sure the work of an Auror is grueling… but then again, here you are, carving out some time for yourself here in the Leaky Cauldron…” She gives him a lopsided smile.

Sebastian’s expression turns warm, appreciating the excuse she has provided him. “Yes, I guess it’s good to take a step back and relax a bit sometimes. After all, if I hadn’t come here tonight, I wouldn’t have been able to meet you. So, what about yourself? Do you date much?”

She shrugs. “My mother keeps setting me up on dates. They never amount to anything. I rarely feel a connection with any of the men. I’ve had a couple of serious relationships in the past, though, but they were not my family’s doing. My last relationship ended about two years ago, and it was brutal in every way. It was a terrible, terrible relationship - and a terrible breakup. That’s when I decided to make a completely fresh start.” Kate pauses to make sure Sebastian is listening; he clearly is interested, leaning in. “I left my parents’ home, got the job at Hogwarts, bought my own little cottage outside of Hogsmeade, and, well… here I am,” she explains, shrugging again with a grin. “I like being independent and living on my own terms, but I would like some romance.”

Sebastian listens intently. “I can understand wanting independence and living on your own terms.” He pauses, his eyes locking onto hers. “If you don’t mind me asking, what exactly happened in your last relationship?”

“Ugh…” Kate mumbles, looking down at her beverage. “I don’t want to talk about it too much. It was… incredibly toxic, but for some reason, I stayed with him much longer than I should have.” She pauses. “I did, however, learn a lot about what I want in a future love match. I want someone who…” She considers her words for a moment. “...actually listens to me, who allows me to have friends, cares about me and my dreams. Someone I’m not afraid of.” Kate frowns, bad memories flooding her mind.

Sebastian reaches out and squeezes her hand in support. “Your last relationship sounds horrible. I’m sorry that happened to you.”

Kate smiles softly, meeting his eyes. “There’s no need for you to pity me. I made those choices myself, and I have to live with them. I’m just glad I didn’t make a commitment. Now I have the chance to find real love.” There is a pause. “I’m certain the hard lessons I’ve learned are nothing in comparison to what others have lived through. I've honestly had things very easy in life.” 

“I have been through a lot of tough lessons as well. Some are… way too personal for me to talk about right now,” Sebastian admits. “Some days, I think I’m in the midst of one of those rough patches. I’ve just been living in the here and now for too long. Always just… getting by in the moment.”

“Well, there’s something to be said for living in the present, but no, you can’t do that forever. Eventually we all need to start looking forward. Making plans, growing roots…” she trails off, wondering if his roots might intertwine with hers someday. She shakes the thought away, trying not to get too caught up in the moment, too enchanted by his looks and charming nature. Take it easy, Kate. 

“You’re right,” he replies. “It’s time for me to start making plans and goals. I want to make something of myself. Become a better man than I was yesterday.”

“And… What do you want for your future, Sebastian?” she asks quietly.

Sebastian takes a breath, looking into Kate’s eyes. “Well, a lot of things. I want stability. I need to stay out of trouble.” He chuckles, playing it off, but it’s quite true. “And honestly, I would really like to be in a healthy relationship. It would be nice to have a partner.”

“I can completely relate to that. I think I’m… I’m ready to settle down,” Kate replies, smiling as she realizes they have some similar goals. “For me, I… don’t want to rely on my family, even though they are more than happy to help me. I just… I want my own life.” She pauses, thinking of how to best explain. “My family is quite well-off. I grew up spoiled. I had a perfect childhood. But when I graduated from Hogwarts, I moved home, and I never felt like an adult while I was there. My mother wanted me to stay at home until I married. She wanted me to just be pampered, to have very few responsibilities. I just felt like a child there. That’s another reason why I left home and bought my cottage.”

“Your family sounds like they care about you - but perhaps almost too much. You’re not a child, Kate. You’re... well, you're a beautiful lady. You deserve to be treated as such.” His hand goes to Kate’s arm, his fingers lightly caressing up and down over her bare skin below her short sleeve. Her eyes widen at the bold physical touch, but she doesn't recoil or ask him to stop. She really likes him, so she finds it comforting and sweet.

When she finishes her cocktail, Kate tries to gauge how close he is to finishing his drink. “Well, perhaps I should say farewell to my friends, if we are going on a walk soon.” Kate pauses, then gives him an out, just in case, even though his body language is practically screaming about how interested he is. “Do you… still want to go? It is late. I would understand if you’d rather not.”

Sebastian downs the remaining butterbeer, setting the mug on the bar and wiping the foam from his mouth. He gives her a warm smile, leaning in to whisper, “Kate, I want nothing more than to continue our date.”

Her skin erupts in gooseflesh, and she tries not to sound flustered, even though her pink cheeks likely give her away. “Well, since - since it’s getting late and all… perhaps we should go on a walk closer to home. Instead of Diagon Alley, we could apparate to Feldcroft or Hogsmeade… What do you think?”

His eyes widen in panic when Kate mentions Feldcroft, but he covers it up with a quick reply. “Hogsmeade sounds great to me. Shall we spend the rest of the night there?”

“Yes. But let me say goodnight to Pearl and Felix. I’ll… meet you outside,” Kate tells him. 

Before getting down from the stool, Kate leans over and presses a little kiss to his cheek. She smiles and gazes into his eyes for a moment afterwards, noticing how his cheeks bloom scarlet. A huge grin grows on his face. Then, Kate drops down off of the stool to walk across the tavern to her friends. 

After a few minutes, Sebastian watches her hug her friends. Kate gives him a “come-hither” look, tilting her head and stepping out of the pub and into the moonlight. 

She can’t help but grin like a fool. Kate certainly hadn’t come to the Leaky Cauldron expecting to leave with someone new and exciting. A birthday, after all, is the perfect time to start a new chapter. 

[cursedonyx]

The Bars Between Us

Sebastian Sallow x MC

Oneshot AU in which Sebastian was sent to Azkaban despite Ominis and MC (named Dracaena in this fic because it’s my current favourite name) trying to keep his secrets. Ominis and Dracaena spent the next several years trying to free him, and eventually succeed. Sebastian is not the same, Azkaban has sapped him of everything he once was, but a little TLC from the woman he has always loved sets him back on track.

Word Count – 8.6k

Warnings – Angst, traumatised Sebastian, aftermath of Azkaban, engaged Ominis/MC, Ominis approves MC sleeping with Seb, seriously Seb’s been through the wringer, Azkaban is horrible, nursing Seb back to health, smut (MDNI), handjob M!receiving, oral M!receiving, sub!Sebastian, MC feels a bit guilty bc her boy is a wreck

Six years.

It had been six years since the terrible events of fifth year, and six years since Sebastian had stood trial for the murder of Solomon Sallow. Six years since he was sentenced to life in Azkaban.

Six years since Dracaena and Ominis had scrambled to find out who had condemned him, and vowed to make it right.

No sooner had they left Hogwarts, not able to fully appreciate the finality of riding the little boats across the Black Lake towards Hogsmeade station, leaving behind the place in which they had matured into adults, leaving behind the wonders and horrors in equal parts, that they both signed up for jobs at the Ministry for Magic, working in Magical Law Enforcement, searching for some kind of loophole, some kind of law, some kind of anything that would get their best friend released from hell.

After four agonising years, they managed it. Together, pouring over paperwork by candlelight until the small hours for months, they built a solid defence, their unwavering logic and staunch reasoning standing up to the needlepoint scrutiny of the powers that be. Of course, they knew it was a long shot all the same. The Ministry simply didn’t care about extenuating circumstances, considering those incarcerated to be less than human, doomed to serve their time no matter what new evidence came to light.

Ominis had to throw his weight around a bit. Subtle, hissed threats, muttered warnings and an overuse of his famous glare and family name eventually frightened enough people to get those with the ability to make changes to listen. And then Dracaena came in, her fame and her charm the honey to Ominis’ salt, making promises she never intended to keep, assuring those too nervous to make the jump to support them, doing favours that left an unsavoury taste in the back of her throat.

All of it proved worth it in the end. Sebastian’s release papers were handed over, and Dracaena packed a small bag.

“I’ll be a week,” she said to Ominis. “They want him to stay in a sort of halfway house for a while, to make sure he’s not going to go mental and start hexing everyone in sight. Personally, I’m just glad he’s going to get some time to start readjusting to life outside.” She tilted her head. “Won’t you come with me?”

“Best not,” Ominis said, for the fiftieth time, his patience unending. “I don’t want to overwhelm him, and you’ve always known how to calm him down when he gets too… well.”

She chuckled lightly. “That’s assuming he’s not a complete wreck. I hope it’s not affected him too badly.”

“Dove… he’s going to be very different to what we remember,” Ominis replied, resting a hand on her shoulder as she folded her clothes. “He won’t be the Sebastian we knew.”

“I know,” she raised her hand to his, smiling as he looped his other arm around her belly and held her tight. She tilted her head back to rest against his shoulder as he brushed a kiss over her cheek. “I hope he’s forgiven us for not doing more sooner.”

“He’ll have forgiven you,” Ominis said. “He always had a soft spot for you. I rather expect, even after all this time, that he’s still in love with you.”

Dracaena kept her silence. She and Ominis had naturally fallen together towards the end of their sixth year of Hogwarts, their shared experiences and pain leading them to comfort one another, she taking Sebastian and Anne’s place as Ominis’ refuge from his family, moving in together once they’d left the school. In a small way, she was surprised it had taken him as long as it had to propose, presenting her with an elegant ring of emerald and diamond set in white gold six months ago. She’d accepted gladly, though a tiny part of her mourned what that meant for Sebastian.

She loved Ominis with all her heart and more. She adored his gentleness, his respect, his kindness and consideration. She admired his steel, the restrained fury with which he dealt with their enemies, both inside and outside of work, his searing wit and boundless intelligence. She relished his talent as a wizard, and fell in love with him over and over again with each morning they woke beside each other, still spent from their passions, safe in each other’s arms.

But she still loved Sebastian.

Ominis tightened his arm around her.

“It’s alright,” he whispered. “I know how you felt about him. I know how you feel. If things hadn’t ended the way they did, I would have expected the pair of you to be married by now.” He brushed a hand over her hair. “Dracaena… he’s my best friend. I want him to stay with us. We have the room, and he’d be safer than if he was just left to try and survive by himself after all he will have been through. I know you and him well enough to know you’re drawn to each other.”

“But I’m yours,” she whispered, moving his hand to brush over her ring. “Remember?”

He shrugged. “I know. I trust you. I know that if you said nothing would happen between you, I would believe you because it would be true. But you’d be unhappy. You both would. I know you’re not going to leave me for him, Dracaena, but I know you also make each other happy. He’s going to need all the love and support he can get once he’s out. I’d hope that you can give that to him.”

She tilted her head. “Ominis… are you giving me permission to… play away with your best friend?”

He chuckled. “Don’t cheapen it,” his elegant fingers found her cheek, tilting her head so he could kiss her full. “I’m telling you that if you two happen to come together again, I support it. Didn’t you once tell me you’d have liked it if you could have had us both?”

“I was drunk!” she protested, giggling as he dug his fingers into her ribs, ticking her gently. “You can’t use that against me!”

“I can and will,” he laughed, holding her tight. “I mean it, Dracaena. I don’t mind at all, so long as it’s only him. He’s my brother as far as I’m concerned, and I trust you both.”

“You might regret it,” Dracaena warned.

“If I do, we’ll talk about it, and find a way to resolve it,” he said, releasing her at last. “Go on now, you need to get to the dock. Send me an owl once he’s settled.”

“I will.”

He brushed a hand over her cheek. “See you in a week. I love you.”

“Love you too.”

_.-~*~-._

The sky was a stormy grey, and the waves below were similarly sullen. They crashed against the side of the boat, sending salty sprays onto the deck as if it was their mission to knock the vessel off course.

Dracaena sat between two stern faced Aurors, her hands folded in her lap. She’d left her bag at the halfway house, a modest, three-roomed bungalow surrounded by similar buildings, grey bricked and dour looking. She had perched on one of the rickety chairs by the small, circular dining table as one of the Aurors explained to her that Sebastian would be under careful watch for the first year following his release, and any missteps would see him sent right back to Azkaban.

She’d only half listened as he went over an itemised list for what she should do during her week’s stay at the halfway house, pinning a sheet of parchment to the wall with the details. She was only to feed him small meals, as he wouldn’t be able to stomach anything more. Nothing rich, nothing too fatty, and no alcohol. She’d frowned, asking why.

“Because the prisoners don’t tend to eat,” he’d said, gruffly. “The dementors have to force them in order to keep them alive.”

She’d shivered then, and she shivered now, remembering. They weren’t allowed to leave the halfway house, except for at specific times each day to walk around the complex for ten minutes at a time, to build up his strength. She had to write a detailed report at the end of each day to give to the Aurors, describing their conversations and activities. She was sternly warned that if she didn’t, there would be Trouble. Said Trouble was left unspecified, and she didn’t have the heart to ask.

Dracaena shifted, watching as something huge, angular and black began to rise from the waves, impossibly tall, impossibly wide, made entirely of stone. Only a few small windows lay in the surface, like knife wounds in flesh. Her hands tightened in her lap as dread began to seep under her skin, a visceral fear prickling over her neck and shoulders. She was only going to be there for a short time, to bring her best friend home. She couldn’t imagine how Sebastian would have felt, seeing that pillar of misery approach, believing he would never leave.

She loosed a soft breath, eyeing the distant, tattered black shapes swooping around outside it. He would leave. He would leave with her, and everything would be alright.

The boat approached a yawning cavern at the base of the prison, the Aurors casting a Patronus each, a mouse and a raven. There was a dock in the cavern, the blackness chased away by sparsely placed sconces in the damp, glistening walls. Standing there waiting was a hunched little man, balding on top with buck teeth and a sickly smile. He had a Patronus as well, something that looked like a cross between an ailing puppy and a wall-eyed rat.

Dracaena stepped off the boat, shivering, the feeling of dread still creeping under her clothes and caressing her skin. She set her jaw, drew her wand, and cast a Patronus of her own.

An elegant panther touched its paws to the stone, gazing around imperiously as the Aurors and the little man raised their brows, the dread vanishing from her chest as if it had never been. From the shadows around the walls, several rattling voices gurgled and hissed, as if angry.

“Where is he?” she demanded.

“Cell 506,” the little man said, rubbing his hands together with a grin that seemed entirely too cheerful for such a place. “Follow me, my dear.”

The patronuses cast silvery blue light on the walls as they ascended a surprisingly wide staircase, their footsteps echoing. Reaching the first floor, the little man produced a set of keys and unlocked a heavy, barred door.

“No need for magic here,” he cackled. “No one’s got their wands, have they?”

They strode into a cell block, and Dracaena recoiled. The scent of filth was overwhelming, but it was the sounds that chilled her. Her Patronus flickered, moving to stand beside her as desperate sobs filled her ears, tortured cries and garbled, gibbering wails singing in a hellish harmony that echoed off the walls.

The sounds died down as the little man and the Aurors encouraged her on, and though she tried to face forward, to ignore the figures in the cells, she couldn’t help but notice how they scrambled towards the bars, their bony, wasted hands reaching through, stretching for the patronuses as the tattered shadows of the dementors fled their presence. The screams began again as they passed, somehow more agonised than before.

They repeated this four more times, ascending rapidly narrowing staircases and emerging into a new cell block, climbing higher and higher, taunting the prisoners with the promise of relief from their misery in their passing. With each step, Dracaena’s heart beat just a little faster, her grip on her wand increasing, the hackles on her panther Patronus rising as she bared her teeth.

By the time they reached the fifth floor, her palms were sweating. How different would he be? Would the Sebastian she knew and loved still be there, somewhere? Would his eyes still sparkle with the mischief he was so adept at making, at once sliding into fury when he was challenged, and softening whenever he looked at her? She knew he’d be different. He’d look different. He’d act different. But she had to believe he was still there.

No matter her provisions, in the following years, Dracaena didn’t think there was anything on earth that could have prepared her for what she saw when she finally reached Sebastian’s cell.

Unlike so many of the other prisoners, he wasn’t screaming or crying, and he didn’t rush to the bars to feel the passing warmth of the patronuses. He huddled by the wall, next to a narrow mattress and ratty blanket laid directly on the floor. His hair was halfway down to his elbows, thick and matted, almost black with grime. He was dressed as they all were, in a filthy pair of striped trousers and shirt, and they hung loose on his frame. His head was on his arms, resting on his knees, drawn to his chest. The hand she could see was almost skeletal, every inch of boyish puppy fat stripped from his body. His nails were bitten to the quick and filthy, as were his bare feet.

Dracaena raised a hand to the bars, her heart shattering as she took him in, watching as he shivered.

“See, he’s one of the tough ones,” the little man said, with a chuckle. “Just keeps to himself, terribly well behaved. Shame to see him go, really.”

Dracaena tightened her grip on her wand to the point she thought it might snap. She turned to the little man, letting her expression say everything she dared not voice, for if she opened her mouth, she would likely find herself in a cell of her own. The little man seemed to understand, because his sick grin slipped, and he hurried to unlock the cell door. She barged him out the way before he’d even pulled the key from the lock, striding inside and falling to her knees before the broken man she had loved.

“Sebastian?” she whispered, her Patronus sitting in front of the door and glowering. He didn’t move. “Sebastian, it’s time to go.”

He stirred, his fingers tightening on his sleeve. She reached out, brushing a hand over his arm, and he flinched.

“Bassy,” she whispered, the pet name she’d given him both foreign and familiar on her tongue. He tensed, finally raising his head. His chocolate eyes, once so full of life, were dull and defeated above hollow cheeks and a beard that reached his collar. Even so he was familiar to her, the rampant freckles scattering his skin like constellations a siren call to their bond. He blinked, focusing, and didn’t say a word.

“Bassy, it’s time to go,” she said again, cupping his cheek, sliding her thumb over the protruding bone, her fingers winding into the thatch of hair at the back of his neck. He flinched away again, his expression becoming fearful, his eyes darting around the cell.

“Happens sometimes,” the little man said sullenly from beyond the bars. “They forget who they are. Forget who they knew. He’s not said a word in five years, so don’t expect him to. He probably thinks this is some kind of joke.”

She shot another glare that could melt steel through the bars, then shifted her position, grasping Sebastian by the arms and standing, heaving him to his feet.

He came up with almost no resistance, and she staggered, almost flinging him into the air, horrified by how light he was. He made a small sound of muted alarm as he left the floor.

“I’m sorry,” she said, relaxing her grip. She grabbed for him again when he slumped, his legs refusing to support his weight. She glanced through the bars again as the Aurors stirred.

“We’ll have to drag him,” one said. “Prisoners sometimes forget how to walk, or they just don’t have the will.”

“You’re not dragging anybody,” she spat. She looped an arm around Sebastian’s back, bending to catch his legs, lifting him in her arms like a child. He tensed, then slumped, his head lolling against her shoulder. He was so light, so alarmingly fragile, as if he was made of parchment, ready to tear apart at the slightest movement. Her heart broke again, and her Patronus flickered as she cradled him. Without another word, she marched from the cell, heading for the doors, the other prisoners gibbering as she passed, begging her to take them too, to leave her Patronus, to kill them. She paid them no mind, focusing on holding Sebastian tight to her chest, his feet swinging, his breath rushing over her neck. His hands were folded on his stomach, and one of them slid to her, pinching the fabric of her cloak, then holding gently.

She held him all the way to the dock, refusing to release her grip as she settled back on the boat. She raised a hand to his hair, gently running over the back of his head. It left streaks of grime on her fingers, but she didn’t care. A deep, boiling anger simmered in her chest. Anger for what he’d been put through. Anger that anyone was forced to endure such a hellish place. But mostly, she was furious with herself for allowing this to happen, furious with Ominis for knowing what Azkaban was like, and letting him be taken anyway, the word of some unknown person sealing his fate.

It didn’t matter that they’d spent the next six years trying to find a way to free him. The damage had been done. She felt it in his trembling breath, in the way he held onto her cloak so gently, knowing in her bones that it was the tightest grip he could muster. She wrapped her arms around him more securely, resting her cheek against his forehead, whispering soft words of comfort as her collar grew sodden with his silent tears.

_.-~*~-._

Dracaena carried Sebastian over the threshold of the halfway house in much the same way a groom carries his bride. She wasn’t blind to the imagery, and wondered if Ominis would do the same to her once they were married. Would he be able to navigate if his hands were full of her body and not his wand? Probably. He was astonishingly capable, to the point she often wondered if his blindness really was total, like he said. Perhaps he had some Seer blood in him that aided him. It would certainly go a long way to explain how he always seemed to know everything, even things he shouldn’t know.

She kicked the door shut in the faces of the Aurors that had accompanied them.

She eyed the living room of the halfway house, the low sofa facing the kitchenette and dining table. Through one of the doors was a little bedroom, and through the other was a tiny, cramped bathroom. It was towards this that she headed, conjuring a low seat, in which she deposited Sebastian. He was unresponsive as she stood back with a light sigh, gazing down at him and eyeing the stains left on her robes.

She pulled off her cloak and overrobes, standing before him in a simple pair of trousers and vest top, tossing her robes through the still open door, before kneeling down in front of him.

“First order of business,” she said, softly. “We’re here for a week, Bassy. We’ve got a to-do list, but I’ll take care of it as best I can. I’ll need your help, though. Can you do that for me?”

His throat worked a moment, then he gave a tiny, barely perceptible nod. Dracaena loosed a soft breath. At least he was listening to her.

“I think you’d feel a lot better after a shower,” she said, keeping her tone low and soothing. “Would you like that?”

Another miniscule nod.

“Can you take care of that, or would you like some help?”

No response to that. She tilted her head, waiting, her hands on his knees, until he glanced at her, his eyes lighting on hers and flicking away again like a moth fluttering about a lantern. They were still dull and hollow, curtained by the matted strands of his hair. She reached up and brushed a hand over it.

“I think we need to give you a haircut,” she said. “I can’t think of a single brush that can save it, I’m afraid, it's too tangled. Can I cut your hair for you? And maybe this?” she ran her hand over the wild beard. “Much as I think a beard suits you, it could do with a trim, don’t you think?”

A tiny nod, ever so slightly more vigorous than the last. She smiled, and reached behind her, fumbling in the cabinet for scissors.

“I’ll save what I can,” she said, taking a ropey strand of his hair between her fingers. “I can’t imagine you’d enjoy being bald.”

A miniscule exhalation. She tilted her head.

“Was that a laugh, darling?”

He didn’t answer, but leaned forward, resting his head on her shoulder. She set the scissors aside a moment and wrapped her arms around his back, alarmed to feel the bones of his spine poking through his skin. She held him gently until his arms rose, gripping the back of her top with a featherlight touch. He shivered, his breath trembling on the exhale. She held him tighter, pressing her cheek to his.

“It’s alright,” she murmured, circling her hand over his back. “You’re safe, Bassy. You’re out. You’re not going back there, okay? Once we’ve done what we have to here, you’re going to come and live with me and Ominis. We’ll look after you.”

She felt his jaw clench a moment, then he sat back, meeting her eyes properly for the first time. He held her gaze a long moment, before it dropped to her hands, resting on his knees again. He touched her ring, his skeletal fingers brushing over the emeralds and diamonds. He sighed, seemingly caving in on himself.

“Congratulations,” he said, his voice so quiet she could barely hear it over the rasp of his throat.

She could have cried, then. God only knew what he’d been thinking when he was trapped in that cell. Had he been hoping she’d come for him? That she’d have waited for him? Had he tortured himself with thoughts of other people getting close to her, loving her? Had he known on some level that she and Ominis would end up together, engaged, and soon to be married? Had he loved her as she loved him once, and wished it was he that slid the ring onto her finger?

What would he think if she told him of Ominis’ offer?

“Thank you,” she said. Best not to overload him. She should have taken her ring off, but it was too late for that now. She raised a hand to his hair again. “I… I’ll be honest, I’ve never done this before. It won’t be a brilliant job, but it’ll help.”

He gave another miniscule nod, and closed his eyes. She gazed at him a while longer, then picked up the scissors, sliding them through the matted tangle of his hair before closing them with a decisive snick.

_.-~*~-._

Shorn of his beard and most of his hair, Sebastian was beginning to look a little more like himself, though his face was terribly gaunt, his cheeks hollow, the sharp lines of his jaw standing out above his brittle neck. Dracaena vanished the pile of hair with a flick of her wand, then reached over to the bathtub, turning on the shower and holding her hand in the stream until it warmed to a comfortable temperature.

“Shall I leave you to it?” she asked. “I can give you some privacy.”

He didn’t answer, his hollow gaze turned inward, slumping slightly in his chair. She took his chin and tilted his face to hers, waiting until his eyes focused. “Bassy, do you want me to help?”

He blinked, slowly, his gaze turning distant again. With a light sigh, Dracaena lowered her fingers to the buttons of his shirt, slowly prying them open, one by one. At each, she paused, looking at him until he gave a tiny nod. She withheld a wince with some difficulty as she gently pulled it from his shoulders, able to see each rib through his skin, streaked with grime. Her heart broke a third time.

“Can you stand?” she asked, gently. “We should get these off too.” She touched the leg of his trousers. He didn’t answer, so she tucked her hands under his arms and rose, bringing him with her. He leaned against her, his arms rising to clutch at her back again as she nimbly undid the drawstring. The clothing crumpled straight to the floor, far too large for his frame. She averted her eyes, helping him step under the stream of warm water, lowering him to sit, and he drew his knees to his chest.

How many times in her fifth year had she wondered what he’d look like under his robes? Countless times, lying awake at night, or daydreaming in class. Now he was here it felt somehow wrong, like a violation to take the opportunity to drink in his form when he was so vulnerable. So she didn’t look, focusing on his face as his short hair plastered to his scalp, the water turning black as it streamed over his skin. She pressed a washcloth into his hands, and he held it, but made no further move.

“Come on darling,” she murmured. “Help me out a little bit?”

No response. With a soft smile, she picked up another washcloth and slid it over his back, applying light pressure to the more stubborn patches of dirt. Sebastian closed his eyes, resting his head on his crossed arms as she soaped his back, his grip on his own cloth tightening a little. And even though she resisted, scolding herself silently, Dracaena couldn’t help but look at him properly. Under the steadily vanishing grime, his back and shoulders were as freckled as his face, fading the further her eyes travelled down his spine and arms. He was a lot paler than she remembered, but then he’d gone from an outdoorsy, adventurous nerd to a prisoner in a cell, not a speck of natural light to be found. She’d have to make sure there was a decent spot in the garden for him to relax, once they were all home.

She nibbled her lip, glancing at his slender thighs, once thick. No freckles there. A few on his calves, none on his feet. She wrenched her gaze away before it strayed any further, and she slipped a hand under his chin, tilting his head back so she could get to his hair. He closed his eyes with a tiny sigh as she rubbed suds through the thick strands, massaging his scalp gently until she was sure every speck of dirt was gone. She pressed a hand to his collarbone.

“Sit up straight, darling,” she whispered. “I need to get to your chest.”

He acquiesced, leaning back until he overbalanced. Dracaena caught him with a startled yelp, an arm around his back, spluttering a little as her head and shoulders entered the shower stream. His legs stretched out as he slumped against her arm, his head turning to her shoulder, his eyes still closed. She caught her breath, blinking water out of her eyes.

“You alright?”

A tiny nod.

She took a breath, and keeping her gaze firmly fixed above his waistline, she moved the cloth over his torso, trying not to admire the fine hair dusting his chest, focusing on removing every speck of dirt she could see. She took her time, because at some point, she was going to have to try to convince him, again, to help himself. There was only so far she could reasonably go when he was so out of it, despite what Ominis had said.

It wasn’t that she didn’t want to look, or to touch… to taste. It wasn’t that she had any problems in taking care of Sebastian in whatever way he needed. It was that he was fresh out of Azkaban, barely four hours free, still confused and addled and traumatised and broken, and she couldn’t assume that he would want anything to do with her at all.

It was still difficult. She shifted, her arm around his back, propping him up as she gripped his shoulder, his head resting against hers, flipping her sodden hair out of her face, her top already soaked. She circled the cloth over his chest a final time, sliding it over his nipple, and he groaned.

The sound was so soft that she thought for a moment she’d imagined it. She paused, swallowed, and repeated the movement. He sighed, tucking his head more firmly against her shoulder, and out of the corner of her eye, she caught a stirring.

Dracaena closed her eyes, willing herself to cool the heat rising from under her collar. She was his friend, that was all, helping him after a terrible ordeal. She couldn’t possibly take advantage of him, not now, not when he was vulnerable and needed her to help him. He wasn’t in his right mind. She had to be strong for them both. In time, perhaps she could, but…

She steeled herself and returned to the job at hand, sliding a bar of soap over his stomach and following it with the cloth. The water ran clear over his body, though it still pooled brown and grimy by his feet and legs, and-

She wrenched her eyes back up, glaring at the pale tiles of the bathroom wall.

“You going to give me a hand?” she asked. “I’m getting soaked.”

Again, no response. He slumped against her, his breathing perhaps a little quicker than before. Hardening herself, Dracaena took the washcloth to his thighs, scrubbing perhaps a little firmer than she had before, tucking a hand under his knee to bring his leg closer so she could still support him. Her back was beginning to ache, bent over the bath as she was, but she ignored the dull fire spreading under her shoulder blades, focusing on her task. All the same, she couldn’t help but notice how he shifted, widening his legs with another soft sigh, his hand sliding over her back to grip at her shoulder as she worked. She slid the cloth over the inside of his thigh, and a soft, almost strangled whimper passed his lips as he tilted towards her.

Dracaena had endured many trials in her life. Stopping a goblin rebellion, defeating a power-crazed, dragon-transformed lunatic set on killing her, as well as countless attacks from poachers and Ashwinders, defeating a powerful Dark Wizard in single combat and more. So much more. Still, if anyone had asked her in the later years what she found the most difficult trial of all, she would have said in a heartbeat that ignoring Sebastian’s throbbing erection as she washed him was among the top three.

She did steal a glance or five. She was only human, after all. And by God, he was beautiful. Not quite as long as Ominis, but thicker, a darker shade, the lush pink of Ominis’ love more a light burgundy with Sebastian, and the way he rested against his stomach, his toes curling as the shower stream rushed over him was more intoxicating than heroin. There was nothing more that she wanted than to wrap her hand around his length and draw him to the edge of bliss, to let him revel in the delights so long denied him, to hear him moan and whimper her name…

Again, Ominis’ assurances that he was not only fine with her playing away with Sebastian, but that he expected it ran through her mind. She loosed a soft breath as she moved the washcloth to his hips, his grip increasing on her arm as his breathing rushed past her ear. She set her jaw.

She couldn’t.

“I need to get some things ready,” she said, firmly. “Finish up, Bassy, I’ll be back in a few minutes.”

She waited until his grip on her arm loosened, helping him sit upright. It pained her to leave him alone, huddled and defenceless as she strode for the door, wringing water from her hair and drying it with a wave of her wand. But she had to. God and Merlin only knew what she would have done otherwise. He was too fresh, too vulnerable. How could she take advantage of him like that? How could she even think it?

Biting her lip, she settled at the small table and drew parchment and quill towards her, penning a short note.

My darling Ominis,

Sebastian is with me in the halfway house, and all things considered, he’s as well as he can be. I don’t want to alarm you, but he’s lost a lot of weight and isn’t very responsive, and I expect it will take some time before he’s better. You were right, he’s not as we remember, but I feel the old Sebastian is still there, somewhere.

I miss you. I love you. I can’t wait to be home with you.

Dracaena.

She wanted to add another line, clarifying that Ominis had meant what he said, hoping he would change his mind, for if he demanded she remain solely his it would be easier to deny the stirrings she felt for Sebastian. But he wouldn’t deny her, he wouldn’t refuse. He’d almost been insistent.

She sealed the letter instead, opening the door and beckoning the owl perched nearby. It took the note in its beak and flew off, soon lost amongst the clouds. She took a breath, noting the dark figures leaning against the walls of the surrounding buildings, the curtains twitching in windows. She made a face and retreated back inside. Christ, with the number of Aurors surrounding them, it was almost like Sebastian was a mass-murdering lunatic, not a broken man who had paid a price far dearer than the death of his horrible uncle warranted.

She tilted her head as the sounds of running water from the bathroom shut off. She waited as a shadow moved beyond the open door. It seemed that Sebastian could get about by himself if he needed to. That was good. She moved to the kitchenette, opening the cupboards and grimacing. Simple foods like porridge oats, rounds of dark bread and rice nestled beside tins of nondescript meat and vegetables huddled on the shelves. Dull fare for certain, and she wished she could use her Ancient Magic to conjure something more palatable, but it didn’t work that way. Sebastian had always been fond of sweet things, and there wasn’t a gram of sugar to be found.

She pulled a few items down and set about making a simple meal of white fish and rice with a side of green beans, careful not to make too much. He’d need time to adjust to eating real food again, and she had no idea what he’d been forced to eat behind bars.

Dracaena turned at a slight noise to find Sebastian standing in the doorway of the bathroom, leaning heavily against the frame, a towel around his waist. He gave her the beginnings of a tired, shy smile, only the corners of his mouth twitching. She left the saucepan and rushed to him.

“There’s clothes in the bedroom,” she said, leading him, an arm around his waist as he slumped against her. “We’ll have some dinner and get you settled for the night, yeah?”

He nodded, a firmer, more decisive action than before. Depositing him on the bed, which creaked, she ferreted around in the old wardrobe, bringing out a selection of shirts and trousers.

“Any preference, or are you not fussy?”

He blinked slowly, his eyes on her, seemingly indifferent about the clothes in her hands. With a shrug, she picked out a dark shirt and pair of trousers, leaving them on the bed.

“I’ll leave you to it, darling, if you need-”

His hand found hers, and she paused, turning to him, finding the corners of his eyes glimmering.

His lips parted, his throat working a moment before his voice found its way out, hushed and rasping.

“This… is real? You’re… really here?”

She knelt before him, taking both his hands in hers.

“Of course it’s real,” she whispered. “Bassy… Ominis and I have spent the last six years trying to find a way to free you. You didn’t deserve what happened to you, you didn’t deserve Azkaban. You’re coming home with us, and you’ll never go back, alright?”

He nodded again, a tiny smile touching his lips.

“You… got me out?”

“I’m sorry it took so long,” she said. “We had to bully a lot of people, rewrite some laws, and build a case. It took ages, Bassy, but we never gave up. We just wanted you home with us.”

“And…” he drew a breath, as if the act of speaking fatigued him beyond all reason. “Anne?”

Dracaena hesitated. She knew this would come up, but she’d hoped it wouldn’t be so soon. The reason for his fighting, the reason for his research, the reason for his mistake. How could she tell him that the curse that plagued his sister had taken her life three years ago?

It would break him. Destroy him in ways that Azkaban never could.

“Time enough for that later,” she said, forcing a smile onto her face. “What’s important right now is getting you back on your feet, alright?”

It was a poor answer, and she knew it. Sebastian had never been one to let things lie, least of all something as important as his twin, whom she had buried with Ominis on a beautiful hill overlooking Feldcroft on a blossom-strewn spring morning, the pair of them shedding silent tears not just for the senseless loss of life, but because it meant everything Sebastian had sacrificed had been for nothing. But Sebastian didn’t question her further, merely nodding again and releasing her hands, reaching for the clothes.

Dracaena returned to the kitchen in time to put out a small fire that had started in the pan. She swore and pulled out another tin of white fish, vanishing the blackened mess with a wave of her wand.

Sebastian joined her at the small table not long after, clinging to the walls and countertops to support himself until she hurried over, pulling his arm over her shoulders. Though his first mouthful of food was hesitant, he soon fell upon it like a man starved, going so far as to toss his fork aside and eat with his hands. Once he was done, he held himself still, staring at his plate before the hollowness returned to his eyes, and he withdrew into himself, drawing his knees to his chest and wrapping his arms around them, staring at nothing as Dracaena pushed her plate aside, her appetite quite gone.

“You should sleep,” she said, softly. She rose and took his hand, drawing him to his feet and tucking an arm around his waist, leading him to the bedroom. She sat him down, helping him unbutton his shirt, pausing as she reached the hilt of his trousers.

“There’s… there’s pyjamas and things in the wardrobe,” she said. “I can get them for you?”

Sebastian didn’t answer, his eyes dragging with tiredness, but his hand snared hers as she rose.

“Stay?” he rasped. “Please?”

It took every ounce of her self-control to refuse.

“You’ll be alright,” she said. “You’re safe here, Bassy.”

His throat worked a moment, and he nodded, his hand sliding from her grip. Dracaena returned to the living room, setting the dinner things to wash and settling down on the sofa, conjuring a blanket and removing her clothes, lying down in just her underthings.

Ominis was on her mind as she settled to sleep, wishing he was here with her. She longed to feel his elegant arms around her, to reassure her, to comfort her as she wept silently for all the pain their dearest friend had endured.

_.-~*~-._

Dracaena work to darkness and agonised, desperate screams.

She bolted from the sofa, her heart in her throat as she tore towards the sound, her mind conjuring horrors beyond mortal imagining as she burst into the bedroom. Sebastian was huddled in a corner, his arms splayed against the walls, his knees drawn to his chest, his eyes wild as he tried to press himself through the brick and plaster, cowering away from something she couldn’t see.

“Sebastian!” she dashed over, grabbing for his shoulders, and he lashed out, howling, the side of his hand connecting with her temple, and she saw stars. Shaking herself, she grabbed for him again as he fought against her, yelling wordlessly. “Sebastian, it’s me! It’s alright! Calm down, please!”

He pushed back against the wall, soft, keening sounds wrenching from his throat, his eyes unseeing as she wrapped her arms around him, gasping comforting words into his ear. Eventually, his arms rose to encircle her, burying his face in her shoulder and weeping helplessly.

“It’s alright…” she murmured. “It’s alright, darling. There’s nothing here that can hurt you. You’re safe.”

Sebastian just cried, clinging to her as she settled on his thighs, wishing she could hold him tighter, wishing she had more arms to wrap around him, to hold him more securely than she could, her hand circling over his back, the other wound into his hair as he sobbed into her shoulder.

“It was just a nightmare, darling,” she murmured. “That’s all. Nothing more. You’re alright.”

It took a long time before Sebastian was able to calm down, his frightened sobs becoming whimpers, quietening to harsh breaths as he grasped at her back, shivering so hard she thought he could power a small house.

“What was it?” Dracaena asked, leaning back a little and cupping his face. “Darling, what did you see?”

He shook his head, his face tear-stained, pulling her back to him and resting his head against her shoulder again.

“I-I’m… sorry,” he managed.

“There’s nothing to be sorry for,” she assured him. “Bassy, I’ve no idea what you’ve been through, but I’m here to help you. Tell me what you need.”

“Stay… with me,” he whimpered, holding her as tight as he could, though the strength of his arms was little more than strands of silk. “Please, Drac… Don’t leave me alone.”

With a muted nod, she tucked her hands under his arms again, levering him upright and guiding him to the bed, laying him down and tucking him in, before settling atop the covers. Sebastian turned over, his arm looping over her side.

“Will… you be… warm enough?” he whispered.

“I’ll be fine,” she assured him. “Get some rest, love, I’ll be right here.”

“Come under,” he insisted, snuggling closer to her. “Please, Drac. I… I haven’t touched… another person in… years. I… I-I need to be close… to you.”

She hesitated, and Sebastian huddled up to her, his hands tight at her back, his skin fire against hers.

“Drac… I-I’m sorry, I-I know you’re… with Ominis, I don’t want… to upset you… or spoil that. I-I just need… to be close to you… please. I don’t want to be alone.”

Setting her jaw, Dracaena slid under the covers, wrapping her arms around him as he snuggled into her, his head against her collarbone, his body pressed to hers, almost as though he needed to become a part of her, to meld his flesh with hers, the pads of his fingers digging into her back.

She held him tight as he shivered, wishing she could take the pain he suffered and draw it into herself to shield him from the horrors he had endured. But she couldn’t. She could only lie there, holding him, stroking his hair as he pressed his face between her breasts, his skeletal frame wracked with shudders as guilt seared through every fibre of her being. She pulled him closer, and he groaned softly.

Dracaena couldn’t ignore the hardness that pressed against her, as much as she wanted to. Despite Ominis’ assurances, she needed to be strong, to show him she cared for Sebastian as more than just a vessel for carnal pleasure. She didn’t need that. As she was with Ominis, her own bliss mattered less than that of her partner, her delight being in when she brought him to the edge of paradise and sent him over, soaring on clouds of ecstasy. Would it be so wrong to gift the same to Sebastian, when her fiancée had condoned it?

Sebastian groaned softly, the tip of his erection nudging against the soft flesh of her abdomen, straining against his pyjamas. He nuzzled against her breasts, only the thin lace separating their skin. Dracaena drew a soft breath. No matter her concerns, perhaps this was what he needed. Had she not vowed to care for him, no matter what he needed? Her hand slid over his side, over the ridges of his ribs, gliding over the hollow between them and his hip, coming to rest on the sharp protrusion of bone. Sebastian whimpered softly, tilting his body towards her hand.

“Are you sure?” she breathed. “Is this what you want?”

“Yes…” he whispered, the word ragged, forged from a throat too unused to speaking. “Please…”

Still she hesitated, preferring to caress his body, worried that it would be too much for him, worried that no matter his assurances, Ominis would be hurt if she allowed herself to indulge, but Sebastian clung to her, the little strength he had poured into pulling her closer.

“Drac…” he whined softly, writhing against her as her hand sculpted over his chest and stomach. “Please, Drac… please, make me feel human again. Please, please touch me… please… I’ll do anything… I just… I need to feel alive again.”

And hell, she’d be lying if she said she didn’t want to make him feel good after everything he’d been through. She cupped his cheek, turning his face to hers, pressing her lips to his with a softness akin to featherdown and satin. But he responded with fire and fury, his hand clamping against the back of her head, pressing her close as his lips worked magic over hers, scattering the last of her restraint as she wrenched him to her.

His breath came in sharp gasps as she pushed his clothing aside, her hand dipping down to caress the length of him. He tensed, a low moan rising from his throat as she graced her hand along him, before his grip at her back tightened, and he flexed his hips, thrusting into her palm, each movement accompanied by a gasp.

“Please,” he whimpered. “Make me feel good, make me feel right… make me feel real, Drac, please.”

Dracaena sealed her lips to his, drawing his breath into her and sending it back as heaven and light, her hand gliding along his throbbing length, her movements careful and controlled. Sebastian loosed a long, deep moan that seemed to rise from the bottom of his lungs, as if such a sound had been too long caged and finally set free. He sank back to the pillows, his limited strength seemingly spent, his eyes rolling back as his lashes fluttered, and she favoured him with kisses that peppered his face and chased over his neck, pausing only at his chest to swipe her tongue over his nipple. Sebastian groaned, his head rolling from side to side, one hand at her shoulder, the slight pressure increasing as she kissed down his taut stomach.

She could take him any way she wanted. She could pin him down and ravage him until he forgot his own name, she could bend him backward and bury his delicious cock in her throat, she could even turn him over and work a magic inside him that she was certain too few wizards had ever had the fortune to experience. But Dracaena bore down on her desires. Too much could break him. There would be months, years, perhaps, in which she could show him all the wonders she had learned since being with Ominis. She could show Ominis what she learned from Sebastian. She could learn from them both, together, but only if she treated them right.

Sebastian moaned like a starved whore when she flicked her tongue over the flushed head of his cock, his head pressing back into the pillows, his free hand grasping a fistful of the sheets as she slowly kissed along his length. She tucked a hand under his hips as she nuzzled the inside of his thighs, taking a moment to savour the desperate sounds pushed up from the depths of his being, the hand at her shoulder moving to the back of her head, his grip weak but insistent.

She couldn’t deny him any longer. Dracaena flattened her tongue against him and drew it slowly to the tip, already weeping with slick, crystal fluid, his ribs expanding and contracting with each rapid, short breath, his stomach hollowing as his hips bucked towards her. Her free hand found his, and she laced their fingers together as she took him into her mouth at last.

Seven years of longing couldn’t have prepared her for the feel of him against her lips, sliding over her tongue, invading her throat, the deliciousness of his fevered skin, the subtle, peppered tang of his love so similar and yet so different to the gentle salt and sugar of her Ominis. Sebastian’s back arched, his legs falling apart, his hand winding into her hair as his grip on her hand trembled, his thighs beginning to quiver as she flicked her tongue over the underside of his head, so sensitive after so many years of neglect, his voice a wordless song of ecstasy. She sealed her lips and drew them along his shaft, rewarded by a series of frantic moans that rose in fever and pitch. She wanted to pull back, to slow down, to make him wait, the dominant side of her fighting for control, but even she was not that cruel. Instead she bobbed her head faster and faster, lashing her tongue against him until he all but screamed, his hips rising from the bed as his back arched in a curve Fibonacci would be envious of, the beautiful, creamy thickness of his passion coating the cavern of her mouth.

Dracaena drained him of every drop as if her life depended on it, relishing the way he quivered and whined, his body tensing and relaxing with each new flick of her tongue until she raised her head at last, his pale, freckled skin flushed a gorgeous rose, an arm draped across his forehead. She slid up his body to lie beside him, brushing his hair back and wrapping her arms around him as he curled into her, panting.

“You okay?” she breathed, and he huffed a breathless laugh.

“If… if I’d have known… if I had to go… to Azkaban for that…” he nuzzled into her. “I’d have… gone… long ago.”

Dracaena chuckled softly, winding her hand through his hair as he relaxed against her.

“Drac,” he murmured. “I… should have… told you. Back then… I should have said…”

“Shh,” she whispered. “You need to sleep, love.”

“I know,” he replied, already drifting. “But… I should have said… I love you, Drac. I… I always have.”

She held him close.

“I love you too,” she breathed as he slipped into sleep. “Forever and always, I love you.”

Masterlist

Part 2

[spooky-all-year-round]

Okay but hear me out,

Sebastian post Azkaban break out:

( just minus the metal arm)

[sunnyrealist]

^ My OC Kate Mayflower with Sebastian Sallow

[butternutt613]

Peep the first chappie of this new fic I put together:

In The Shadow Of The Serpent

It's has dark!Ominis and post-azkaban!Sebastian

*edit* ahhhh emphasis on the dark...... these boys need a hug

I hope you enjoy!

~~~~~~

Ominis Azrael Gaunt died at fifteen. He died the moment he heard the cold clink of metal shackle his best friend. He died the moment Sebastian Raguel Sallow was sentenced to life in Azkaban.

The echoes of the courtroom had followed him for weeks afterward, a symphony of guilt and regret. The sharp, authoritative voice of the Chief Warlock. The hushed voices of the onlookers. The low, choked sob that escaped Sebastian’s lips when the verdict was read. It all blurred together into an unrelenting hum that Ominis could never silence.

But the boy who walked out of that courtroom was not Ominis Azrael Gaunt anymore.

The man called Ominis Azrael Gaunt was a creature bound by duty and blood, forged in the crucible of his family’s darkness. He was a master of the dark arts, a Gaunt in every sense of the word. The laughter of his youth, the warmth of friendship, the fleeting dream of escape; all had been snuffed out like a candle caught in the wind.

This man sat in the shadowed halls of the Gaunt Manor, his pale fingers tracing the smooth divots and ridges on his wand. The manor was quiet as death, save for the faint crackle of a low fire that brought no warmth. The cold, unyielding marble beneath his boots reflected the man he had become. Hard, cold, and unfeeling.

And yet, even without sight, the world around him was never truly dark. His father’s magic burned like a deep, sickening green, pulsing faintly in the edges of his awareness, a constant, oppressive presence that marked every room.

“Ominis!” That voice, sharp and demanding, cut through the suffocating silence. “Come.”

Ominis stood as his father’s magic flared brighter, its oppressive heat pulsing in the stillness. The quiet shuffle of his boots barely broke the silence as his hand instinctively found the smooth, ornate serpent carved into the head of his cane. Guided by the faint ripples of magic that marked his father’s path, he moved forward.

He did not need sight to know the way; the corridors of the manor were etched into his mind with the clarity of years spent treading their lifeless expanse. Each step was a descent, spiraling deeper into the suffocating abyss of his family’s expectations.

The heavy oak doors of the ritual chamber groaned open as he approached. The air here was thick, brimming with the metallic scent of blood and the sickly sweetness of burning herbs. He felt the heat of the flames licking at his skin before he heard the crackle of the fire that illuminated the room in shifting shadows he could never see.

“Your brother failed me again,” his father began, his tone sharp and unforgiving. Ominis felt the heat of his gaze, sharp and cutting. “And so, as always, I turn to you.”

Ominis did not flinch at the words. He stood still, his head slightly bowed, an unfeeling statue in the presence of the man who had shaped him into this hollowed creature. A faint, sticky warmth brushed against his fingers as a vial was pressed into his hand. The faint pulse of green within it vibrated against his fingers. A fragment of his father’s magic, raw and unrestrained. His blood.

“You know the incantation,” his father said coldly. “Do it.”

The vial’s weight was insignificant, yet in his hand, it felt impossibly heavy. The liquid inside sloshed faintly with the movement, its scent filling his nose. A coppery, vile promise of power. He hesitated, his mind flickering with distant memories of another life. Laughter. A voice full of mischief. The echo of Sebastian’s footsteps as they raced down the cobblestones at Hogwarts.

But it was only a flicker. A whisper drowned in the thunderous silence that now consumed him.

“Ominis,” his father snapped, his voice like shattered glass. “Do not disappoint me.”

He snuffed out the memory.

The vial was warm in his hand, pulsing faintly as if alive. Ominis felt the tendrils of his father’s magic unfurling, brushing against his own aura like the touch of a blade. He walked to the altar, each step guided by the vibration of ancient sigils carved into the stone floor.

The altar itself radiated an eerie, sickly green light, faint and shifting, alive with whispers of long-forgotten incantations. His fingers traced its cold surface, feeling the grooves where blood had run for millennia. He uncorked the vial and poured its contents onto the altar. The thick, viscous liquid spread in uneven lines, pooling in the carved runes that began to glow with hungry light.

The green aura of his father flared in response, its tendrils growing sharper, faster. They reached for him, curling around his own faint, pale magic, constricting and coiling as he began to chant.

The words came from deep within his chest, a low, guttural incantation, older than time itself. The air around him grew heavy, each sibilant sound pushing it tighter and tighter against his skin. He could feel the vibrations in the magic itself, the way his father’s aura pulsed eagerly, its tendrils slithering closer, wrapping around him like a serpent tightening its hold.

He did not stumble, he did not falter. His voice was steady, practiced and devoid of emotions, as the words spilt out of him like venom.

The pain came slowly, at first. Sharp pricks along his limbs where the tendrils coiled too tightly, seeping into his veins. But Ominis did not stop. He could not. The incantation grew louder, the chamber trembling as his father’s magic consumed the ritual entirely. The oppressive green bled into every corner of the room, casting jagged shadows that even Ominis could sense, a chaotic storm of power that left no room for anything else.

When the final word left his lips, the green snapped tight around him. He gasped, his knees smashing to the floor as the magic consumed him from within. For a moment, he thought it would devour him completely. But then the tendrils released, slithering back into the altar with a satisfied hiss, leaving only silence in their wake.

A hand gripped his shoulder, firm, cold, and possessive. “Well done,” his father said, his tone quivering with power. “Perhaps you are not as useless as your brother after all.”

The hand lingered for a moment too long, squeezing hard enough to bruise, before it was gone. The absence left a faint, throbbing ache, but Ominis did not react. He did not speak. He did not move as his father swept out of the room, his footsteps echoing down the hall like a death knell.

He was alone again, standing in the thick silence of the ritual chamber. The air was still warm, the scent of blood and ash clinging to his skin like a shroud. He ran his fingers over the altar once more, feeling the grooves of the sigils beneath his touch.

They were sharp, cutting into his skin, but he did not care. The pain was a faint whisper compared to the void inside him, a void that had grown wider and deeper with every passing year.

He had bled for his family, killed for them, become the creature they wanted him to be. And yet, standing there in the suffocating silence of the chamber, he could not escape the truth.

Ominis Azrael Gaunt had died at fifteen. What stood in his place was nothing more than a hollow vessel. Empty, obedient, and bound by blood and duty. As cold and unfeeling as the marble walls of the ancient house he called home.

[heylorrain]

WHAT A WAY TO WAKE UP @ravenwind-75 You finally broke the wall that had me hating him sm ("hate" is a strong word, but you get me heheh ) 💙🤍

This one is for you after the masterpiece you wrote about Sebastian + Indigo.

[sunnyrealist]

Thank you so much, @giselsan! I absolutely love these. You followed my descriptions perfectly!

This is for my WIP fanfic “The Sun, the Moon, and All Our Stars.” Lost and lonely, 24-year-old Sebastian Sallow is forced to work as a double-agent for the Ministry of Magic as they attempt to bring down the dark wizarding organization that broke him out of Azkaban. In the midst of all of this, he meets Kate Mayflower, the assistant librarian at Hogwarts, who turns his world upside down and brings hope and happiness to him as he begins to piece his life back together.

🌻🌻🌻Comissions☺️🌻🌻🌻

[sunnyrealist]

Chapter 56: Keep Me Close

The Sun, the Moon, and All Our Stars

Summary and Details…

Previous Chapter Recap/Context: Sebastian wrote a letter to Ominis, contacting him for the first time in nearly a decade in hopes of reconnecting and learning about Anne's final years and marriage. Unfortunately, Kate's owl returned a day later with the same letter Sebastian had sent out. He was devastated, assuming that Ominis didn't want anything to do with him post-Azkaban. Kate and Sebastian discussed it over a hot cup of tea. He decided he would still attempt to contact Ruby, his close friend from his fifth year at Hogwarts. In this chapter, we see Seb's final day off of work from the DMLE, in which he sends the letter; in addition, he arranges for some romantic surprises for Kate, and takes part in a portrait session with her.

Pairing: 25-year-old, post-Azkaban Sebastian Sallow x 24-year-old Kate Mayflower (my OC), the assistant librarian at Hogwarts

Art Credit: @giselsann-opencommissions made all three of these gorgeous portraits.

Content warnings: In general, this is rated 18+, so minors should not read or interact with this story. This chapter is overall pretty sweet and romantic, but there's a brief mention of making love.

The full chapter is available below the cut; it can also be found on AO3 (link is posted below). Please leave some feedback if possible, especially if you like what you read! 🥰

Chapter 56: Keep Me Close

The next afternoon, Sebastian amends his letter to Ruby to inform her that he was unable to contact Ominis. Maybe she would have some news to share on that front, or maybe she would ignore his correspondence entirely. He wouldn’t know unless he tried, and with the disappointment of Ominis’ silence, he figured it couldn’t hurt much more to take another blow. 

He had taken far worse.

“I’m so sorry about last time, Hootie,” he murmurs soothingly to Kate’s owl, holding up the letter. “Hopefully this won’t be a repeat. I’ve got a field mouse right here as a special treat for your trouble, just in case.” 

Hootie makes an excited noise, chomping onto the dead mouse’s tail and then accepting the letter in his talons.

“Please bring this to Ruby McKinnon.”

Sebastian sighs nervously as the snowy owl takes off, not sure if it is worth the effort to hope.

It had been a busy morning. 

Kate had informed him, without a hint of exaggeration, that it would take her a great deal of time to prepare for their portrait session, and that she did not want him to see her until she was completely ready. It was clear she planned to pull out all the stops when it came to her clothing, accessories, hair, and perhaps even makeup. 

Sebastian knew getting ready would not take him all that long, so he threw himself into rewriting Ruby’s letter and he had gone into town to “run some errands.” Kate hadn’t questioned him at all, which was perfect. 

He smiles, pulling the custom gold locket out of his pocket to admire it. 

The jeweler had made quick work of the engraving, and Sebastian was quite impressed. He definitely planned to return there for future purchases… and perhaps to sell future treasure. He and Kate would have more adventures - of that he was certain. With the money he kept from the centuries-old jewelry and precious uncut gems he sold, he was also sure that he would likely be back to buy more gifts for Kate. Christmas, Valentine’s Day, her birthday next year… and maybe even surprises in between.

He had also stopped at the Three Broomsticks to make a reservation for a private room on an upper level.

A few moments later, Sebastian knocks on the bathroom door. “Kate - how much more time do you need in there? I still have to shower.”

“Oh!” was her response from behind the door. “Erm… I’ll be moving into the bedroom in just a few minutes, but I’ll still need time in there, too.”

He chuckles. “That’s fine. I’ll lay out my clothes in the study now so that I don’t disturb you.”

“Okay. Tell me when you’re done, and I’ll sneak back into the room,” she requests. 

“Not a problem,” he replies, finding her secretive preparation amusing. He heads right into the bedroom to grab his new tailored suit and undergarments. 

About an hour later, Sebastian is ready. He strolls into the bathroom to view himself in the mirror and to make sure his hair is still mostly cooperating. 

His eyebrows shoot up as he examines himself in the black formal evening suit. He has never seen himself dressed in such… fancy clothing. For his entire life, he never had a need for this kind of attire. He fixes a stray hair, then straightens the tan vest. 

Though he feels a bit out of his element, Sebastian has to admit to himself that he looks good. 

“Almost ready, Kate?” he calls out towards the bedroom.

“Just a few more minutes!” Kate answers. “I’ll come out soon - I promise!”

Sebastian chuffs under his breath and figures he ought to find a way to pass the time. He wanders into the living room and sits, then thinks better of it. He doesn’t want to wrinkle the suit before pictures are taken. 

He wanders towards a shelf with books, reading off some of the titles, none of which he recognizes. Emma, Persuasion, Sense and Sensibility, Little Women, Jo’s Boys, Wuthering Heights, Frankenstein or the Modern Prometheus, The Tempest, Much Ado About Nothing… Likely all Muggle books. He pulls out the only title he recognizes - Homer’s Epics: The Iliad and The Odyssey, flipping through the pages to view the illustrations of the ancient Greek gods and goddesses and fierce mortal warriors, lingering on a picture of Odysseus reuniting with Penelope in Ithaca. He’s about to continue on, when he finally realizes he is being stared at.

“Hi,” Kate says shyly, poking her head around the corner. “I’m ready.”

Sebastian immediately shelves the book, then watches her step out, his jaw dropping unironically. He swallows, his eyebrows lifting and pupils dilating.

She looks like an angel. A golden angel.

Kate’s hair is arranged elegantly, half up and half down with soft, blonde curls flowing to her waist. A light dusting of makeup is on her face, showing off curled eyelashes, rosy lips, and a glowing complexion. She’s wearing golden earrings and a golden necklace that perfectly compliment her golden gown, which perfectly accentuates her figure. There are delicate straps on her shoulders and additional wider sleeves that hang just off her shoulders in a gauzy fabric that flows across the top of the bodice. Just a touch of cleavage is visible. The bodice features embroidered golden leaves. In the center of the neckline, the leaves form a kind of flower. The gown hugs her waist, and then the skirt flows out, sweeping the floor with a ruched fabric trim. The skirt features many embroidered leaves in various earth tones, connected by vines. Her shoes are hard to see, but the light yellow shoes poke out just enough that he can see a shiny little accent bow on each.

“You- You look… stunning,” Sebastian stammers, his face getting red. “Gods… you are gorgeous.”

Kate blushes, her cheeks turning a little pink. “Thank you.” She eyes Sebastian up and down, then adds, “And you are incredibly handsome. The formalwear suits you. You look very dapper.” She takes a few steps towards him and kisses his cheek.

Sebastian tells her in a serious tone, “I mean it. You look absolutely beautiful. I don’t think… I don’t think I’ve ever seen someone as beautiful as you.”

Kate smiles, basking in the compliment for a moment. Then, she says, “We should probably apparate. I’d hate to see our clothes get dirty on a walk.”

“Agreed. Let’s go.”

Sebastian had never been inside of a portrait studio. Whenever his family had had pictures taken in the past, a photographer had always come to their home. His parents were proud of their house and always wanted it featured in mementos. 

The photographer was skilled and prepared, with backdrops and furniture ready. He assured the couple that their portraits would be in color and available in just about an hour. That was new. Sebastian had always remembered the development process taking weeks, if not over a month. Kate inquired about new advancements in America that her friends had written about. Lottie and Otty had been able to take moving photographs, just like paintings could be enchanted to do. It became a long conversation, with the photographer excitedly chattering about the intricate spellwork and materials that were supposedly required and that perhaps in a year or so, moving photos would be available in Europe.

About to leave, they finish up by confirming the number of prints and sizes for each. They step out, but Sebastian stops and says, “Oh, wait, I forgot something,” ducking back into the studio on his own.

“Excuse me… I wanted to make another request if I could. I would also like a small portrait of my girlfriend - pocket size. And… also a portrait of myself and our portrait as a couple made for a locket in this size,” he requests, showing the locket to the photographer, who nods in understanding. “I’ll come back later for the prints. It’s for a surprise.”

“This… is lovely. And such a wonderful surprise,” Kate murmurs, dabbing her cloth napkin over her lips. 

Sebastian admires her across the table, their private dinner illuminated by candlelight and accompanied by soft music from a gramophone. He refills their wine and tucks back into their meal of roasted chicken, mashed potatoes, buttery dinner rolls, with a medley of seasoned carrots and green beans. 

Kate sips the Pinot Noir. “Did you know this is my favorite meal?”

He smiles. “You told me when we were hiking in the Highlands.”

Kate gazes at him, raising an eyebrow. “So… What is the occasion? It’s clearly an occasion. I’ve never dined in a private room here, and you’ve arranged my favorite meal.” 

Sebastian replies, “I wanted to end my week off of work perfectly with you.” He pauses, studying her reaction. “It has been… the happiest week of my entire life. Being with you… makes me feel complete. And after all that has happened, all that we have learned, moving in together… Well, a celebration was in order.” 

“It truly has been wonderful,” she agrees. “Thank you for arranging everything. Our trip was a fascinating experience, and… I’m excited to live with you and… experience all that lies ahead. I love you, Sebastian.”

“And I love you,” he echoes, “so deeply, Kate. You’re my sunshine. You’re all that is good in the world, and… I can’t believe how lucky I am to have you as my… future wife.”

Their eyes meet, both of them smiling.

Sebastian glances at his pocketwatch. “I know this might seem a bit silly, but… I am so anxious to see the photographs. Do you mind if I quickly apparate over to the studio after I order dessert and settle the bill? We can look at them here.”

Kate grins even more widely. “By all means, yes. I can’t wait to see them.”

Once they finish up with their dinner, Sebastian heads downstairs to order a blackberry crumble for them to share, which he was told would pair excellently with the Pinot Noir. He pays the bill. Then, he ducks out of the restaurant to head to the studio.

After a refreshing dessert, they finally are ready to look at the portraits. Sebastian scoots his chair right next to Kate, handing the envelope to her. 

She carefully opens the packaging, and the first portrait she pulls out is the portrait of them as a couple. She gasps upon seeing it. They are seated at a bench with the backdrop of a garden. Kate was given a matching parasol as a prop, and the two of them smile, appearing to read a book together with Sebastian leaning in, their foreheads practically touching.

The next portrait is of Kate. The photographer had asked her to pose for a close-up, insisting this was the most current fashionable style - it would make the subject appear glamorous, soft, and romantic. The photo features her from the bust and above. Her hair is flowing and is voluminous. She rests her hand on her cheek. Sebastian whistles.

“A goddess,” he murmurs.

Finally, the portrait of Sebastian is revealed. He is seated on a chair, looking right at the camera with a bit of a smirk on his face - an apt depiction.

“Merlin, what a good-looking man,” Kate murmurs, looking closely at it and then flashing a grin at her boyfriend.

“I suppose we are a rather attractive couple,” he replies with a smirk.

Kate continues looking at the pictures for several minutes, then places them all back inside the envelope.

Sebastian has been waiting for this moment. He reaches over to take Kate’s hand. “I have something for you.”

“You do?” Kate seems surprised.

He pulls out a small box from his pocket and opens it for her. There lies the golden locket. Kate gasps, then examines it closer. 

“It has… a moon! That’s you! And flowers… I suppose that’s… me!” she notes with an excited laugh. “Sebastian… it’s perfect. Absolutely perfect. Just what I would have chosen myself.”

“I’m glad you like it. Here, take it. Open it,” he requests.

She obeys, opening it carefully, and inside are tiny photographs - their portrait as a couple and a portrait of Sebastian. She studies it adoringly, then closes it. Throwing her arms around him, she murmurs “Thank you” in his ear. When she pulls back, she kisses him tenderly and repeats the sentiment: “Thank you.”

Sebastian stands behind her, and she holds her hair up as he fastens the necklace. “You can always keep me close. And I’ll be able to do the same.” He reveals the pocket portrait he had made of her. “It will help me survive being away from you.” He chuckles. “No easy task. I cannot even fathom having to wake up for work tomorrow and leaving you in bed alone.”

Kate reaches out to caress his cheek. “I don’t want you to go back to the Ministry tomorrow. I wish you could have the entire summer off with me.”

“Me, too, sunshine. Me, too,” he whispers wistfully. 

After a few moments, he suggests apparating home, where they immediately make the most of Sebastian’s final evening without responsibilities. Their lovemaking is slow, unhurried, as they thoroughly explore each other’s bodies. 

The only thing Kate wears to bed that night is the locket.

[cursedonyx]

The Bars Between Us (Part 2)

Read Part 1 here

AU in which Sebastian was sent to Azkaban despite Ominis and Dracaena trying to keep his secrets. They spent the next several years trying to free him, and eventually succeeded. Now free from confinement, Sebastian is not the same, Azkaban has sapped him of everything he once was, and Dracaena is determined to bring back the man she knew.

Sebastian has to spend a week in a halfway-house, readjusting to life outside Azkaban before he will be allowed to come home. Dracaena must support him during this time, dealing with his nightmares, his physical weakness, and some very difficult questions that he needs an answer to.

Word Count – 6.7k

Warnings – Angst | Traumatised Sebastian | Aftermath of Azkaban | Engaged Ominis/MC (semi-open relationship) | Sebastian x MC | Nursing Seb back to health | Mentions of Anne’s Death | Allusions to NSFW themes but nothing explicit | Heavy trauma

It took a long while for sleep to find her. A hundred thoughts chased themselves in circles in her head, yapping and snapping for attention as she stared across the room, her back propped against thin pillows, listening to the faint whisper of wind beyond the window, a faint rustling as it chased a few fallen leaves in circles around the bare courtyard.

At the front of her mind was Sebastian, curled beside her and sound asleep, his brittle limbs wound around her, stripped of almost all muscle and fat. How thin he was. How pale. How empty he seemed. She ran a hand over his hair, the motion calming her fluttering heart.

Immediately following him was Ominis, the man she loved and had committed herself to, heart and body and soul. His gentle smile, his elegant hands, his noble bearing and pure spirit. How she adored him for everything he was, how he seemed to instinctively know her innermost thoughts and desires, ready to comfort or advise before she could even tell him what was on her mind, how he was perfect in every conceivable way.

Next in the baying pack of her thoughts was simple, burning guilt. It was the kind of guilt that made her heart fold in on itself, as if it was shrinking, her anxiety spiking. Guilt for Sebastian’s condition, guilt for not working harder, for not getting him out of that vile place sooner. Guilt for abandoning him. It didn’t matter that she and Ominis had devoted every spare second to freeing him, it hadn’t been enough. They’d fallen in love, and had sometimes spent languid days in each other’s arms, instead of working on Sebastian’s case.

Dracaena winced. That was another level of guilt to add to the tottering tower. How much more could she stack before it teetered and fell?

She had been intimate with Sebastian while she was engaged to Ominis.

Yes, she could tell herself he needed it to feel human. He’d said so. It had made him happy, and she had vowed to make him happy. And yes, she could remind herself that Ominis not only expected her to do so, but had encouraged it. She bit her lip. Why had Ominis encouraged it? He was as devoted to her as she was to him, perhaps even more so. He knew she had once held Sebastian in her heart as she now did him, but was it wrong for her to expect at least a little jealousy? Every other man she’d ever known would have been incensed at the idea.

Not her Ominis. Not her future husband. Her happiness was at the front of his mind, always, as his was with her.

She traced the shape of her ring, unable to see it properly in the darkness, but she knew every detail of it by heart. She’d spent long hours gazing at it, dreaming of her wedding day, showing it off to her friends and colleagues, elated beyond measure, wanting nothing more than to spend the rest of her life with him, and only him.

Now there was doubt.

She loved Ominis, perhaps more than she had ever loved another person. He was the sun in her sky, the stars of her night, the river that flowed through her very being and gave her life.

She also loved Sebastian. She had loved him all this time, no matter how she had tried to hide it, to forget how his easy laughter and free spirit made her heart soar. To ignore it now would be akin to ignoring the building burning down around her.

Her brows drew together as Sebastian mumbled in his sleep. How could she love both of them so deeply and completely, her feelings for one undiminished as the other bloomed? Surely such a thing wasn’t possible? What would it mean for her impending marriage if she loved another man as much as she loved her fiancé? Ominis might have agreed to her providing Sebastian with the comfort he needed, both physical and emotional, but did that stretch to love? How long could he endure it?

Such were her thoughts as the night slid by, the sky beginning to lighten behind the heavy curtains, the thin line of grey on the ceiling soon becoming peach, then yellow as the sun climbed into the sky. Dracaena found herself dozing fitfully, waking at the slightest sound, the tiniest movement of the man beside her, his head in her lap, his arms locked around her waist, his thigh draped over her shins. On more than one occasion he stirred more vigorously, whimpering and groaning as some nightmare or another played out behind his lids, but all she had to do was pull him close to her, whispering soft, comforting sounds in his ear, stroking his hair and his back until he settled.

She jolted awake with a start, wincing as a thin wire of pain lanced through her neck. She stared about a moment, wondering what had woken her, before she looked down and met Sebastian’s eyes. He was gazing up at her as if she was a unicorn, a phoenix, perhaps, as if he wasn’t quite sure she was real, as if she was the most beautiful thing to ever grace his vision. The sight of him looking at her like that made her heart both swell and shatter, and she reached down, cupping his cheek tenderly.

“How’d you sleep?” she murmured.

Sebastian drew a long breath, letting it out just as slowly.

“Better than I… have in a long… time,” he said, his voice still weak, his eyelids lowing by half, a tiny smile on his face. It faded as quickly as it had come. “Drac… I’m… sorry. About… about last night, I…”

“There’s nothing to be sorry for,” she assured him. “Bassy, I can’t even begin to imagine what you’ve been through, but I’m here to help you, no matter what you need, okay?”

His jaw tightened. He didn’t say anything else, but his gaze was fixed on her hand, on her engagement ring.

Dracaena shuffled down and pulled him into a tight hug, her fingers winding into his hair and pressing his face into her shoulder, careful not to hold him too firmly. He was so frail she was afraid he might snap if she tightened her arms too much around him.

“Do you want to sleep a little more?” she asked. “There’s a few things I need to do this morning before we get to our list.”

“List?” he echoed, and she explained the rules the Ministry had laid out for them, the daily reports she had to write, the exercises he was expected to do, all those little things that were supposed to prepare him for his re-entrance to civilised society. Sebastian nodded slowly as she spoke, then stirred, sitting up with difficulty. He frowned down at his hands, once large and strong, now skeletal.

“I feel… so weak,” he whispered. “I never noticed… I can barely… even talk properly.”

“Your strength will come back,” she said, smoothing her hand over his back, his skin warm and taut, biting her lip as her fingers traced the protrusions of his spine, the sharpness of his shoulder blades. “It’ll just take time.” She cleared her throat delicately. “Let me get some breakfast going, do you need me to help you with anything?”

Sebastian shook his head slowly, still frowning down at his hands. Dracaena waited a moment longer, then slipped out from under the covers, remembering only then that she was in nothing but her undergarments. By Sebastian’s sharp intake of breath, it seemed she wasn’t the only one who had noticed. Fighting a smile, Dracaena strode for the bathroom and took a quick shower, brushing her teeth then towelling herself dry as fast as she could. Though it seemed to her that Sebastian’s mind was still very much his own, there was a growing prickle in the centre of her chest, a rapidly twisting ball of anxiety that tightened the longer she was away from him.

What if he fell? What if he got hurt, or heaven forbid, did something to himself? He could barely stand upright alone, why the hell had she left him?

Dracaena all but flew back into the main room, her blouse only halfway buttoned, a comb caught in the tangles of her damp hair, pulling up short with a sharp gasp of relief as she saw Sebastian hunched at the tiny table, reading the note pinned to the wall. He jumped as she clattered in, whipping around to face her, his face a mask of terror.

“It’s just me,” she said in a rush, raising her hands and approaching as swiftly as she dared. “I’m sorry Bassy, I didn’t mean to startle you.”

He turned away and flopped to the tabletop, his head buried in the crook of his arm. He shivered a little, and she rushed to put her arms around him.

“Love, what’s wrong?”

He shook his head and shivered again. Dracaena bit her lip, her hand making small circles over his back. He didn’t respond, and she straightened.

“Are you hungry?” she tilted her head, but Sebastian kept his silence. “You should eat something, darling, it’ll help get your strength back.” She backed off towards the cupboards and browsed through, frowning lightly at the poor fare. For some reason, she’d been expecting more to have appeared overnight, or perhaps some more variety to the oats, rice and tins of plain fish and vegetables. Hell, even a few potatoes and onions would make the world of difference. On the inside of the cupboard was a list of suggested meals, and each of these had measurements for each ingredient deliberately underlined.

It had been one of the conversations she’d had with the Aurors before she’d left for Azkaban. Sebastian was only allowed to eat small amounts, or he might get sick. She looked down at the pair of bowls before her, a packet of oats in hand, wishing she was able to at least mix them with hot milk instead of water. Her stomach rumbled, but she didn’t dare add any more to her own bowl than the amount suggested. How could she sit and feast while he starved? It was only for a week, and once he was home, she’d make him something truly delicious.

She curled her lip at the cupboard. Sebastian had always been fond of sweet things, but there wasn’t a grain of sugar or honey to be found.

Dracaena sighed softly and boiled the kettle with a flick of her wand. There wasn’t even tea or coffee, and she wasn’t quite sure how she was going to function without her morning pep.

Sebastian was still slumped over the table when she brought their breakfast over, and for a moment, it seemed like he’d fallen asleep. She nudged him gently, and he stirred. Dracaena bit her lip and grasped his shoulders, helping him sit upright. His gaze was unfocused, his expression hollow. She gently pressed a spoon into his hand, waiting patiently until his fingers curled around it.

“Make sure you finish it,” she said softly, guiding his hand to the table so his wrist rested on the wood, the edge of the spoon resting against the bowl. She settled beside him and devoured her own paltry breakfast, hoping it would encourage him. As much as she loved him, she drew the line at feeding him like a kid when he was capable of doing so himself. “Don’t let it get cold, love.”

Sebastian blinked slowly and began to stir his food, occasionally taking tiny, slow bites. Dracaena couldn’t blame him for the lack of enthusiasm, at least their dinner last night had a little flavour. The porridge tasted like wet cardboard.

Once she was certain he was content with finishing his breakfast, Dracaena summoned the small folio of parchment the Aurors had left with her the previous day. Each sheet held a form for her to fill out, the daily reports she was supposed to write for Sebastian. They’d arrive at ten each morning to collect the one from the previous night, and she winced as she glanced at the clock. It was a quarter past nine. She summoned a quill and ink as Sebastian pushed his empty bowl aside with a grimace and set his head back on his arms with a low sigh. She idly ran a hand over his hair as she eyed the form, tapping the nib of her quill against the inkpot.

The Aurors had been explicit in their expectations. She had to detail everything.

The trouble was, everything included their passion last night. Her throat worked a moment, the tip of her tongue sliding out to capture her lower lip and bringing it between her teeth. She could remember the taste of him vividly, pepper and tang, a slight hint of citrus mixing with the heady scent of sandalwood. Once he had carried the soft musk of old books on his robes, for he was rarely more than an hour away from reading some tome or another.  Not now, though, that scent was painfully absent. She tilted her head. There would have been no books in Azkaban.

Dracaena gave herself a little shake and set her quill to the parchment as Sebastian dozed beside her, filling out his name, prison number and all his other personal details. She moved to the Activities section, and hesitated again. She made brief notes, such as cutting his hair, shaving him and helping him bathe, making sure he ate his dinner and sending him to bed. She paused, and swore under her breath.

It wasn’t that she was ashamed of what they’d done. Guilt-ridden, perhaps, but not ashamed. That said, was she even supposed to have entertained him so? Was it really necessary for the Aurors to know she’d buried her face between his thighs and sent him to heaven, if only for a brief time? How the hell would she write it?

She swore again and settled for a partial truth.

Sebastian struggles to sleep alone. He finds comfort in another person’s presence, so I spent the night in his room. He nightmares frequently and wakes screaming if he is by himself.

That would do. She could only hope that the Aurors didn’t push her for any more details than that, for she had no desire to find out what the unspecified Trouble would be if they did.

She jumped as a loud knock came at the door, but it was nothing compared to how Sebastian reacted. He launched himself out of his seat as though he’d been electrocuted, stumbling over his own feet and crashing to the floor with a muted yelp, kicking at the threadbare carpet as he scrambled backward, his eyes wide, his teeth bared in a rictus of sheer terror.

“Sebastian!” Dracaena leapt after him, dropping to her knees as he tried to wedge himself behind the sofa, trembling so hard his teeth chattered. He covered his face, turning away with a low whine as the knock came again, the sharp raps more insistent than before.

“Just a moment!” she called, reaching for Sebastian as he cringed away. “Darling, it’s alright, it’s just the Aurors, they’re here to pick up my report, that’s all.”

Sebastian didn’t respond in any way other than to try and push himself further behind the sofa. It didn’t move an inch, and Dracaena sighed softly, taking the corner of it in her hand and easing it away from the wall. Sebastian tucked himself in further, and she squeezed his shoulder, torn between staying to comfort him and attending to the Aurors outside as the knocks came again, three deliberate, loud bangs. Each of them made Sebastian flinch.

“Just stay there, I’ll be right back,” Dracaena said, scrabbling to her feet and rushing for the door, plucking the report off the table as she went.

She opened the door a crack, peering out at the tall, cloaked men that stood on the step. Their faces held all the expression of a brick wall, and the tallest one held out his hand expectantly. Dracaena swallowed, and passed over the form. Without a word, the Aurors turned as one and stalked away. Dracaena watched them, a light frown on her brow as they crossed the courtyard, two of them veering off to resume their patrol, the tallest one moving to the small building by the gate of the complex and vanishing inside. Muttering under her breath, she closed the door and hurried back to the sofa.

Sebastian had tucked himself so tightly into the tiny gap that for a moment she feared she wouldn’t be able to pull him out. His head was on his knees, his fingers laced together atop his head like a shield. He was shivering, his breath trembling, and she reached out a tentative hand, resting it on his bony shoulder. He flinched.

“They’ve gone,” she said, keeping her voice as low and calming as she could manage. “They won’t be back until tomorrow, you can come out now.”

Sebastian didn’t respond, but he huddled tighter around himself, clamping his hands over his head, his face pressed into his knees. Dracaena shuffled a little closer, her heart aching at what Azkaban had done to her dearest friend. How bright he once was, how cheerful and determined, how clever and witty and smart. How could he have been reduced to this, this cowering man frightened of a simple knock at the door?

“Sebastian,” she gripped his shoulder. “The Aurors will be here at ten o’clock each morning that we’re here to get my report. They won’t take you back, alright? That’s not what they’re here for. Even if they wanted to, I wouldn’t let them. You remember what I can do, right?” she shuffled as close as she could, and he shied away again. “It’s alright, Bassy. I promise you I won’t ever let anyone take you there again. They’d have to kill me before I let them.”

✧˖°⊹ ࣪ ˖ * ˖  ⊹°˖✧

It was past midday before Sebastian was able to unfold himself enough to reach out, and she pulled him to her chest gladly, enveloping his skeletal frame in a gentle, yet insistent embrace. He clung to her with all the strength he could muster, his grip on her blouse little more than a phantom. Dracaena led him to the bathroom and helped him shower, averting her eyes despite the desire to admire him, then supporting him to the bedroom, towelling his hair dry and picking out a new set of clothes from the selection provided by the Ministry.

“We’ll have to get you something more your style when you come home,” she said, pulling a smile onto her face as she browsed through the cheaply made, dull-coloured shirts and trousers in the wardrobe. Sebastian simply sat on the bed, a towel around his waist, his absent gaze fixed on the carpet. Dracaena sighed softly and lifted him to his feet, helping him dress, trying once again to ignore the shape of him as he leaned against her, his head on her shoulder, his hands sliding over her back, then resting on her hips as she sat him back down and buttoned his shirt, his eyes finally focusing on hers.

She knelt before him, and something passed between them, a spark of connection, of longing, something that spoke of adoration and loss, of a love held burning, an ember nursed and nurtured for six long years. In that brief moment she saw him as he had once been, bright-eyed and feisty, flirtatious and gracious, hot-headed and demanding, fiery and consuming.

Her Sebastian. The boy she had grown to love, the man she had stood beside despite it all. Betrayed by an unknown person, stolen from her before either of their young minds could comprehend what such a sentence could mean. She would bring him back, no matter the cost, and rain hell itself down on the soulless bastard that condemned him to a life of torture.

He blinked and looked away.

Dracaena lowered her eyes, frowning at the sharp, thinly laced brogues the Ministry had provided. They had to take a walk about the courtyard, to build up his strength, but even to her the shoes looked uncomfortable, the kind of footwear that would bite just under the ankles, that would pinch the toes, that would nip and squeeze in all the wrong places. She wasn’t even sure if Sebastian could manage the intricate laces, and she’d be damned if she did it for him. For all her luck, she’d tie them too tightly and make them hurt, or too loosely and make him trip. Setting her lips in a thin line, she transfigured them into a pair of comfortable loafers, easy to slip on and off.

Sebastian eased them on and made a face.

“Too tight?” Dracaena asked, as he shuffled his feet.

“No…” he managed, his voice a hoarse rasp. “Just… odd. I’ve not… worn shoes since…” he trailed off, his gaze growing distant and hollow once more.

Dracaena managed a smile and helped him to his feet, throwing a thick cloak about his shoulders. She slipped an arm around his waist, pulling his over her shoulders, and they set off for the door. Stepping out into the cool air made Sebastian tense, and he stared around warily, his eyes lighting on the distant figures of the Aurors patrolling around the perimeter of the fenced complex they found themselves in.

“Come on,” Dracaena laced her fingers with the hand resting limply about her shoulders, her other at his back. “Ten minutes around, that’s all, then we can find something else to do for a bit.”

Sebastian gave a slow nod and they set off at a glacial pace. Though Sebastian was capable of at least walking in a straight line, within the space of two minutes his breathing was laboured, and he leaned more and more upon her until she was practically carrying him.

“Do you need a rest?” she asked, as they made another circuit. Sebastian set his jaw and shook his head, a spark of that old fire glimmering behind his eyes. It was gone in a flash as he lowered his head again, focusing on the ground, but it gave her hope. There was still something of him in there, that fierce determination that drove him so passionately to learn, to fight, to break every rule under the sun and charm his way out of it. A lump formed in her throat, and she brushed away a glimmer at the corner of her eye.

Once their ten minutes were up, Sebastian could barely lift his feet, his grip on her shoulder alarmingly weak. She supported him back to their rooms and the moment the door clicked shut, Sebastian collapsed completely, flopping to the side with a low groan, his complexion a strange mix of flushed and pale. Dracaena cursed under her breath and hooked her free arm under his legs, carrying him to the bedroom and lying him atop the covers before summoning him a glass of water.

She cupped the back of his head as he sipped, then his eyelids fluttered, and he all but passed out, his breathing laboured. Dracaena perched on the side of the bed, biting her lip. He was so much weaker than she’d thought, but she had to keep trying. He had to keep going. She would not let that vile place take him from her forever.

Brushing away cool tears from her cheeks, she moved back into the other room, wondering if she could summon some tea. She and Ominis always felt better after a good cup of tea, surely Sebastian would as well.

As if thinking of her beloved summoned him to her, there came a tapping at the window, and Dracaena opened it to find a pretty barn owl astride the sill, a letter clamped in its beak. She took it, recognising Ominis’ elegant script on the front of the envelope. She slit the parchment eagerly, heading back to the bedroom to read, absently pulling a spare blanket over Sebastian’s sleeping form.

My darling Dove,

I am delighted to hear that you and Sebastian are safe and well, or at least as well as can be expected. I feared he would be somewhat insane from the torment he endured, but it gladdens me to know he has you to support him, whatever he needs.

I miss you terribly, my love, but I know it will only be a few short days before both you and my true brother are back home, where you belong. I have taken the liberty of preparing one of our spare bedrooms for Sebastian, though I am somewhat at a loss for what decoration he would prefer, having never had an understanding of such things. Perhaps you might enlighten me as to what he would like, and I will endeavour to make it so. I’m sure the Ministry will spare us a few House Elves to assist with the project, Spavin has rarely been one to deny me. Does he need a new wardrobe as well? Do send me his measurements if so, I’ll purchase a selection for him.

I can’t imagine how difficult this is for you, Dove, to endure this alone. I do wish I had come with you, but fear it would overwhelm him. I shall simply wait for your return, eager for the feel of you in my arms once more.

Do keep me updated on his progress, I will be most keen to hear all the details once you’re home safe.

All of my love to you and more,

Ominis

Dracaena sighed, a smile resting on her lips as she read the letter over and over. Five and a half days, and she would be back home with him.

And Sebastian.

She glanced at him, judging that he would sleep for at least an hour or two. His breathing had steadied, and she brushed a strand of hair off his forehead, her hand curving down to cup his cheek, missing how they had once been so full, bordering on chubby, but never quite making it there. Her eyes lingered on his freckles, tracing patterns between each fleck of caramel and amber, and she caught herself sighing.

She drafted a quick reply to Ominis, telling him how much she missed him, giving a brief update on Sebastian’s condition, providing the required measurements he requested via sneaky use of a conjured tape measure, pausing only to wonder how Sebastian would like his bedroom to be decorated. To her dismay, she hadn’t the first clue. She’d been to the Sallow's old cottage, though Sebastian never had his own bed there and Anne had decorated it to her preference once Solomon had died, and Sebastian's dorm at Hogwarts was decorated in the Slytherin fashion, all emeralds and silvers and dark woods. She’d never asked if it was his style, if he liked it.

There was a lot she’d never had the chance to ask him, caught up as they were in his quest to cure Anne and her own trials with Ancient Magic. She could hardly remember a time they’d just sat down and had a normal conversation, getting to know each other better. Everything she knew of him was inferred by what she saw, the adventures they had, and the snatches of his history he gifted her when he provided context as to why he was trying to hard to help his twin.

The twin he no longer had.

Dracaena sighed, added a line to her letter for Ominis to keep his room neutral for now, and they could decide when they were home. She sent it off with a tawny owl and frowned at the kettle. If she didn’t get some caffeine soon, she was going to become irritable, and that would be disastrous for both her and Sebastian. The thought of snapping at him chilled her.

She heard movement from the bedroom and hurried back to find Sebastian stirring. She settled on the edge of the bed and took his hand as he woke, smiling gently as his eyes found hers.

“Feel better?”

He gave a slight shrug, struggling to sit, the blanket pooling in his lap. Dracaena drew her wand and levitated it off him, folding it with a flick. He eyed it, and she smiled.

“We’ve lots to get you when we get home,” she said. “Ominis is going to get you a whole new wardrobe, won’t that be nice?”

Sebastian tilted his head, looking mildly surprised.

“I’m sure it’ll only be a few outfits to start with, but we’ll all take a trip to Diagon Alley once you’re feeling up to it,” she continued. “We’ll have lots to get, parchment and ink and books. We’ll get you a whole library, Bassy, anything you want.”

The corners of his eyes crinkled slightly, his deep eyes taking on a faraway look, and Dracaena glanced at her wand.

“We’ll need to get you a new wand, as well,” she said, and Sebastian’s eyes dimmed, the corners of his mouth turning down.

“I want… my wand,” he said.

Dracaena understood, and she squeezed his hand gently. The thought of being parted from her wand was akin to being parted from her hand, and for someone to take it, to snap it in half as if it had no more value than a simple twig… she shuddered at the thought, and slid an arm around his shoulders.

“It’ll be alright,” she soothed. “Ollivander will have something that’s just perfect for you, you’ll see. We can even get a handle that matched your old one, yeah?”

Sebastian looked away, leaning against her and sighing deeply. She nuzzled his hair, allowing herself to indulge in the scent of it for a few heartbeats.

“I know it won’t be the same,” she said. “But it’s better than nothing, right?” she pulled back a little and ruffled his hair gently, the motion similar to how she used to wind him up when she had the chance, playfully messing up his wild waves until he did the same to her, the pair of them laughing so freely. He didn’t laugh now, but he leaned away, turning to face her.

He met her eyes, an intensity dancing there that had long been absent, and she stilled. That look had always made her skin prickle delightfully, as if he was staring into her soul and seeing her for all that she was, and it always promised that trouble was soon to follow.

“When did… Anne die?” he asked.

Dracaena froze.

“You… you know?” she said, stunned.

Sebastian turned away, an agony on his face so similar to that of a victim of Crucio that she was surprised he didn’t howl with pain.

“I… suspected,” he said, the end of the words cracking. “You… confirmed it… just now.”

“I’m so sorry,” she said, reaching for him, but he didn’t react to her touch. “Bassy… she fought so hard, for so long.”

“When?” he repeated.

“Three years ago,” she said, and he loosed a tiny, broken sound that pierced right through her heart. “I wanted to let you know, to visit, hell, even to send an owl, but we weren’t allowed. We tried everything, I promise.”

He shook his head, his shoulders beginning to quiver, and Dracaena tugged him back to her, a hand at the back of his head, her fingers winding into his hair until he slumped against her, his arms rising, grasping at her blouse.

“I’m so sorry,” she repeated. “We… Ominis and I, we buried her on that nice hill in Feldcroft. Ominis said she used to like the view there. It’s right under an apple tree, so she gets blossoms twice a year. We… we take a trip every couple of months to leave her fresh flowers. I was going to tell you Bassy, I swear I was, I just… I just didn’t know how to say it.”

Sebastian didn’t answer her, but his shoulders still shook with restrained sobs, the neck of her blouse growing sodden as she held him, the light outside dimming as the coolness of autumn pushed the twilight into the sky.

✧˖°⊹ ࣪ ˖ * ˖  ⊹°˖✧

It was almost nine o’clock by the time Sebastian stirred, and Dracaena cupped his cheek, tilting his face to hers and kissing him gently. Sebastian leaned into it with a low groan, but she pulled back, searching his face.

“You doing okay?”

It was a foolish question, but Sebastian nodded.

“I knew,” he said, his voice low. “I… knew… somehow. I just… didn’t know when. Thank you… for telling me.” He leaned in to brush his lips over hers once more. She allowed it for a moment, then moved to kiss his cheek.

“You should eat something,” she said. “We missed lunch, darling. You must be famished.”

Indeed, her stomach was doing a rather marvellous impression of a grumpy hippopotamus, but Sebastian shook his head.

“I’m… not hungry.”

She frowned a little. “Bassy, you have to. I don’t want you wasting away, there’s barely anything to you as it is.”

He shot her a glower, but far from upsetting her, her heart leapt. There was the Sebastian she knew, the argumentative, stubborn man she knew so well.

“I said… I’m not… hungry.”

She fought a smile. He’d been able to manipulate her once, using his charm and intelligence to sway her into doing almost anything he wanted. She’d not forgotten what she’d learned from him.

“Please?” she said, letting her eyes widen a fraction, her brow knitting. “For me, Bassy? I’m worried about you. Won’t you just have a little, to make me happy?”

He curled his lip in a sulky grimace, and it was a struggle not to laugh at such a display of petulance.

“The food here… tastes… like the way… Prewett’s robes… used to smell.”

“I’ll try not to be offended,” she said cheerily, and Sebastian shot her a guilty look.

“Sorry.”

She did laugh this time, and rumpled his hair, drawing a tiny smile from him. He allowed her to help him to his feet and lead him to the table, and he winced a little as they went.

“What is it?” she asked, peering at him in concern.

“Ache…” he said, and made an inarticulate gesture. “Legs… my back.”

“Hm.” Dracaena settled him at the table. “That’ll probably just be because you’re not used to moving around so much. Tell you what, I’ll make us some dinner, and if you eat it all, I’ll give you a massage, how’s that sound?”

Sebastian glanced at her, and she noted a definite spark of interest. “Alright.”

She quickly busied herself at the stove to hide her grin, ferreting around in the cupboards above. To her absolute delight, she discovered a pound of butter wrapped in wax paper hidden behind the tins. Yes, the Aurors had advised not to feed Sebastian anything too fatty, but he needed to put some weight back on, and soon. She repeated their first meal of white fish and beans, and absolutely drenched it in butter, crumbling a little salt over it for flavour. She’d have to ask Ominis if he could possibly send something a bit more hearty than the crap they’d been provided.

Sebastian brightened after the first mouthful, even smiling a little as he tucked in.

“Better?” Dracaena asked, the small dinner barely making a dent in her own hunger, but that mattered little.

“Yeah,” he said. “Much. Thanks.” He glanced at her, then away again, rubbing the back of his neck and giving a slightly exaggerated wince. “What… now?”

She withheld a smirk, knowing full well he was thinking of her hands gliding over his back. She was thinking of the exact same thing, and the realisation sent a flash of guilt into her belly. Merlin’s arse, she was engaged! She knew it would help him, to soothe his sore muscles, but she knew all too well where such things could lead. Whenever she favoured her fiancé with such a treat, it always ended in deliciously lazy, loving sex.

Her cheeks warmed as she thought of him, his alabaster form scattered with beauty marks melting under her hands. By god, she’d give anything to have him here. Even now, after years together, the thought of him made her stomach flutter.

Sebastian was still stealing furtive looks at her, and Dracaena smiled, tilting her head at the sofa. “Lie down over there, love. I won’t be a moment.”

Aside from when he’d had his fright from the Aurors knocking on the door, Dracaena was quite certain this was the fastest she’d seen Sebastian move as he almost darted for the sofa, perching on the edge as he fixed his eyes on her. She tidied up the plates, giving herself a mental pep talk, trying to convince herself to behave, to keep a firm line between the comfort he needed and letting things get too far.

Taking a steadying breath, she turned back to him and gestured for him to lie down. He obeyed instantly and she leaned over, plumping one of the cushions to rest his head on. She settled herself beside him and rested a hand on the small of his back.

“Usually this is done without a shirt,” she said, almost guiltily. “You don’t have to take it off, of course, only if you’re comf-”

He was struggling with the garment before she’d even finished speaking, and she huffed a soft laugh, reaching over to help him out of it. He gave her a shy smile, his eyes bright.

“You’re… okay with this?” he asked.

“Of course,” she replied with far more confidence than she really felt. She knew what Ominis liked, and his slender frame hid a surprising amount of taut, elegantly defined muscle. Sebastian was all skin and bones, what if she hurt him by accident? She swallowed past a drying throat. “Just… try to relax, okay? Let me know if you need me to stop or change anything, yeah?”

Sebastian nodded, closing his eyes as Dracaena set her palms on his shoulders, moving them in small, slow circles, watching the slice of profile she could see. His expression didn’t change, but his features relaxed a little, and a long, slow sigh left him as she slid her hands over his shoulder blades, applying light pressure. The motion seemed to soothe him, the tightness in his back easing slightly as she followed the direction of his spine, easing her hands almost to his hips, then back up to the base of his neck.

She tried to think of anything but the feel of him under her hands as she worked, but soon realised this was an exercise in futility as he let out a soft, breathy groan, wriggling his shoulders against her hands. Dracaena closed her eyes a moment, then increased the pressure marginally, the corner of her lips pulling out in a crooked smile when Sebastian hummed contentedly, his long, bony fingers digging into the sofa cushions. Each time she moved her hands down to his hips she paused, feeling him tuck them forward, pushing into the sofa.

She fought with herself for a solid half an hour until she decided she just couldn't do it. Not now. Not tonight. Dracaena drew a soft breath and pulled her hands away, her regret palpable.

“Better?” she asked, quietly.

Sebastian mumbled something unintelligible, reaching back for her hand. It didn’t take a genius for her to know what he was asking, but she couldn’t. Mustn’t. She took his hand instead, giving it a light squeeze, and he seemed to understand, a tiny, sad-sounding whine murmured into the sofa.

“I don’t want to do too much,” Dracaena whispered. “It… can damage your muscles if we do too much.”

While true, the excuse still rang hollow to her, and it was with no small level of guilt and confusion that she helped Sebastian roll onto his side and curl up around her, his head in her lap. She stroked his hair until he fell asleep, staring at the wall opposite as the room darkened to black around her. Whether she would manage the rest of the week without messing up again, she wasn’t sure, but no matter what he had said or implied, her Ominis deserved better than that.

Masterlist

[heylorrain]

One of the best FF of post Azkaban Seb I’ve ever read 😮‍💨🔥🤌 so well written and the art too is 💯

💚Azkaban!Seb Fic is a year old today💚

[enyairl]

Not exactly a badge of honor

Characters: MC, Sebastian Sallow

Summary: She travels to Feldcroft for a pre-arranged dinner with Sebastian, but the evening takes an unexpected turn when he tries to hide something beneath his clothing. Their reunion becomes surprisingly intimate as she helps him with his concealment, hinting at a connection that goes beyond a casual meeting.

Word Count: 1045

The wind whipped through the rolling hills of the Scottish Highlands, carrying the scent of heather and damp earth. She arrived in Feldcroft, the quaint village nestled amidst the landscape, after a long and somewhat frustrating day at Hogwarts. The Ministry, in their infinite wisdom, had decided to assign her as the new Defense Against the Dark Arts professor, a decision they had made, just a month prior to the start of the school year, without so much as a courtesy owl to Headmaster Black or Professor Weasley. She had been sent to the castle to deliver the news, a task that had left her feeling more like a messenger than a respected "retired" Auror.

Professor Weasley, while ultimately supportive, had expressed a mixture of surprise and amusement at the Ministry's audacity. "They seem to think your… extracurricular activities at Hogwarts qualify you for the position," she had chuckled, a mischievous glint in her eyes. "The Goblin Rebellion, your… encounters with various dark forces…" Professor Weasley trailed off, a hint of playful exasperation in her voice, "and your impressive work as a renowned Auror internationally… I suppose they consider you a seasoned veteran."

Headmaster Black, ever the pragmatist, had simply sighed and said, "Well, it's certainly… unconventional." He paused, his gaze lingering on her for a moment, a hint of something unreadable, almost dismissive, in his eyes. "But your experience is undeniable, and you do have a certain… flair."

She had written to Sebastian a couple of days prior, letting him know she would be in the area and suggesting they meet for dinner. He had replied with an eagerness that both warmed and unsettled her, a reminder of the complex, undeniable attraction they felt for each other and what inevitably happened most of the times they met. And now, after her business at Hogwarts, she had journeyed to Feldcroft, a mix of anticipation and a touch of trepidation in her heart.

She approached Sebastian's cottage, its stone facade weathered by time and the elements, its windows glowing with a warm, inviting light. She knocked on the door, her heart pounding with a nervous energy.

The door swung open, revealing Sebastian. He wore khaki pants and brown boots, his outfit casual but undeniably stylish. His chest bare, the long scar along his left pectoral he got during year six faded but still visible, his hair tousled, his eyes still heavy with sleep. She couldn't see what he was wearing underneath, but she imagined a pair of green socks or briefs, a splash of his favourite hidden beneath the surface. A flush crept up her neck, a familiar warmth spreading through her at the sight of him.

"You're here," he said, his voice a husky rumble, a hint of surprise and something else – relief? – in his tone.

"Yeah," she replied, forcing a casual smile. "Sorry I'm late."

He stepped aside, gesturing for her to enter. "No worries, come in," he said, his voice regaining its usual playful charm. "I'm almost ready." He turned and headed upstairs, leaving her standing in the doorway, a whirlwind of emotions swirling within her.

She stepped into the home/study, a warm and familiar place, even with a lot of dark artifacts lying around. The mess all around the place was a little less than usual. A half-packed trunk sat in the corner, and a few books were stacked neatly by the fireplace. It looked more organized than she remembered it from a few years ago, when MACUSA sent her to the mysterious healer's study for treatment after that curse hit her in the chest.

Seconds later, he came downstairs, buttoning up a crisp, light blue button-down shirt. She watched him, a smile playing on her lips, as he finished the task, his fingers fumbling slightly with the buttons. He was almost ready to go, and she couldn't help but feel a surge of warmth at the sight of him.

"You didn't told me what brings you to Scotland" he said, his voice casual, though his eyes betrayed a hint of nervousness. He glanced at his reflection in a nearby mirror, his hand instinctively reaching for the collar of his shirt. He was clearly trying to hide something. She knew what it was.

She raised an eyebrow, her smile widening. "The Ministry asked me to deliver an important letter to Black." She didn't dare to tell him she had been given his dream job as a Defesnse Against the Dark Arts professor.

Sebastian's movements became even more hurried, his fingers adjusting the neck of his shirt with a forced nonchalance. "That's… interesting," he said, his voice strained. "Why didn't they just send an owl?"

"I don't know," she replied. She watched as Sebastian's attempts to cover up his neck failed miserably. "My head Auror simply asked me that one last favor before I retired." She lied to him, it was hurtful to lie to him, she had never lied to him before.

"Well that's a little odd, I guess they want to use you up until your last day of contract, isn't that right?" he joked.

"I guess" she said, with a big smile on her face.

He kept looking at his reflection in the mirror and at his failed attempt to cover his neck with his shirt. He sighed, finally giving up on the shirt and grabbed a scarf from a nearby coat rack, carefully wrapping it around his neck.

Tattoo covered, he turned to her, a forced smile on his lips. "Okay, let's go."

"Just a moment, Sebastian," she said, her voice laced with amusement. She rummaged through her handbag, her fingers brushing against a familiar tube. "Aha! Found it."

Sebastian watched, bemused, as she pulled out a small, beige crayon and approached him with a determined stride. "What are you doing?" he asked, his brow furrowed in confusion.

"Just a little touch-up," she replied with a wink, reaching for the scarf he had carefully arranged to conceal his Azkaban tattoo.

"Hey!" he protested, swatting her hand away playfully. "Don't mess with my carefully crafted look."

She ignored his protests, gently pulling the scarf from his neck and unbuttoning the top button of his shirt. His face flushed a deep red, and he recoiled slightly, a flicker of surprise and a hint of a nervous anticipation in his eyes. He hadn't thought their… reunion would take this turn. Not so suddenly. But he'd misread the situation entirely.

"Hold still," she instructed, her voice laced with a playful authority.

He chuckled, his cheeks flushing slightly, his gaze fixed on her face, a mixture of amusement and a strange thrill in his eyes. "You're incorrigible, you know that?"

She ignored him, a smile playing on her lips as she shook her head softly, her focus solely on the task at hand. She carefully applied the concealer to his tattoo, blending it seamlessly with his skin. He flinched slightly as the cool crayon touched his skin, a shiver running down his spine.

"What in Merlin's name is that?" he asked, his eyes wide with surprise as he watched her work.

"Just a little Muggle magic," she replied with a grin. "You know, I was a teenager once. I picked up a few tricks on hiding pimples, scars, bruises, and looking pretty." She joked, her voice light, while backing up to see the result of her work. "Here, you can keep it. Though I don't know why you care so much about hiding it."

"It's not exactly a badge of honor," he muttered, his gaze avoiding hers, his focus on his reflection in the mirror, checking on how good a job the concealer did covering the tattoo.

"Well… it makes you… intriguing." She paused, then added with a playful grin, "And a bit dangerous. I like that."

Sebastian's cheeks flushed, a warmth spreading through him that had nothing to do with the firewhisky he had consumed earlier when he tried to calm the nervousness of her arrival. He looked at her, his eyes filled with a mixture of gratitude and something deeper, something he couldn't quite name.

"Thank you," he murmured, his voice barely audible.

"Don't mention it, Sebastian," she replied, her smile as radiant as the moonlight that bathed the cobblestone streets of Hogsmeade.

The silence hung heavy between them, the air thick with unspoken desires and a lingering question of what this encounter might become.

This chapter shows a moment of playful interaction, but there's a lot going on beneath the surface. Sebastian, in particular, has been through a lot in the past year, experiences she knows nothing about. From professional highs to personal lows, from danger to heartbreak, his journey has been intense. This reunion is just a glimpse into the complexities that lie ahead.

[stephentomwest]

Chapter 2: Unseen Wounds

The silence of the Gaunt family estate was suffocating. Even with the absence of Dementors, the cold here felt just as unrelenting, seeping into Ominis' bones like a poison. The tall, ancient walls of the estate loomed around him, their grandeur masking the decay beneath—both in the stone and in the bloodline it housed. This place was no home. It was a cage, as much as Azkaban had been. Perhaps more.

Ominis stood in the grand hall, his sightless eyes open but unseeing, his other senses alert to the faint echoes of footsteps that reverberated through the cold marble floors. The estate always seemed too large, too empty, the void filled only by the heavy weight of the family’s past—his past. The same past that had drawn him into the darkness he now feared.

His mother had said nothing when he’d returned. She had simply placed a cold hand on his shoulder, murmuring something about his “inevitable return” before retreating into her chambers. There had been no comfort in her words, just a reminder that he could never truly escape the Gaunt legacy. And now, after what had happened in the Forbidden Forest, he felt that legacy wrapping around him like a noose.

The memory of that night haunted him. He could still hear the crackle of dark energy, feel the earth trembling beneath his feet, sense the raw power that had surged between him and Sebastian. That power had been intoxicating—terrifying—but it was the aftermath that weighed on him the most. The creatures they had hurt, the sheer force they had unleashed, the way the forest itself seemed to recoil from the magic they had summoned. The Ministry had responded quickly, too quickly, and they had barely managed to escape.

But the worst of it wasn’t the spell. It was the look on Sebastian’s face afterward. The thrill. The hunger. Ominis could still feel it, lingering in the back of his mind like a shadow.

He shifted uncomfortably, tightening his grip on his wand, using it as a guide to navigate through the hall. Each tap of the wand against the marble floor echoed louder than the last, the rhythmic sound a stark reminder of the growing distance between him and Sebastian.

But it wasn’t just physical distance that had grown between them. It was something deeper, something Ominis had been trying to ignore for too long. He could feel Sebastian slipping away, being pulled deeper into the darkness that had always hovered around him. And Ominis… Ominis was terrified of being dragged down with him.

The door to his father’s study creaked open, and Ominis stepped inside, his heart heavy with a familiar dread. The scent of old parchment and dust greeted him, the heavy curtains blocking out whatever little light might have pierced the estate’s gloomy interior. He didn’t need to see his father to know he was there, sitting in the same stiff-backed chair, cloaked in his usual air of authority and disdain.

“Ominis.” His father’s voice was like a cold wind cutting through the room, filled with the same unyielding control that had shaped Ominis’ entire childhood. “You’ve returned at last.”

“I have,” Ominis replied quietly, his voice steady but lacking the strength he wished he could muster. He felt like a child again, standing before his father’s judgment, the weight of the family’s expectations pressing down on him.

There was a pause, and Ominis could hear the faint rustle of papers being set aside. His father’s presence felt larger than life, a towering shadow that filled the room. “And what have you brought back with you, Ominis? Trouble, I assume.”

The question lingered in the air, more accusation than inquiry. Ominis clenched his jaw, forcing himself to stand straighter, though his sightless eyes remained focused on the floor. “Nothing worth mentioning.”

“Nothing?” His father’s voice hardened, disbelief dripping from the word. “I find that difficult to believe. The Ministry was at our door this morning. Azkaban destroyed. A dangerous criminal on the loose. And you, Ominis, caught in the middle of it all. I warned you, did I not?”

“I didn’t—” Ominis began, but the words faltered, his throat tightening. He hadn’t wanted any of this. He hadn’t wanted to be dragged into Sebastian’s plans, into the darkness that seemed to follow him like a shadow. But how could he explain that? How could he justify his part in it?

His father stood, the creak of his chair echoing in the heavy silence. “You are a Gaunt,” he said coldly, stepping closer to Ominis. “Our bloodline is pure, strong. We do not consort with… dangerous influences.”

The implication was clear, and Ominis felt his chest tighten. Sebastian. His father had always hated Sebastian, had warned him time and time again to stay away from his friend. But Sebastian had been the only one who ever saw Ominis for more than just his family’s name, more than just a Gaunt. He had seen the person behind the bloodline, the one struggling to break free from the chains of tradition.

But now, even Ominis wasn’t sure who Sebastian really was anymore.

“You must end this,” his father continued, his voice low and commanding. “Cut ties with Sallow. He is dangerous, Ominis. He will destroy you.”

Ominis flinched at the finality in his father’s words. There was no room for argument, no room for doubt. His family had always seen the world in black and white, in purity and corruption. And to them, Sebastian was corruption.

“I won’t abandon him,” Ominis said, his voice softer than he had intended, but firm.

His father’s hand gripped his shoulder, tight enough to make Ominis wince. “You will do what is necessary. Your loyalty lies with your family, not with some misguided fool playing with powers he does not understand.”

Ominis swallowed, the guilt and confusion swirling in his chest. Was that what Sebastian was? A fool playing with powers he couldn’t control? Ominis wanted to believe otherwise, wanted to believe that there was still something good in Sebastian, something worth saving. But the memory of that night in the forest haunted him. The darkness had been so real, so tangible, and Sebastian had seemed… consumed by it.

“I’ve warned you once before, Ominis,” his father continued, his voice low and dangerous. “You will not bring shame to this family. Not again.”

The pressure on Ominis’ shoulder increased, and he knew the conversation was over. His father’s word was final. There was no room for debate, no room for negotiation. Ominis was expected to do what was right for the family. What had always been expected of him.

And yet, as his father released him and turned back toward his desk, Ominis stood frozen in place, his heart pounding in his chest. His family’s expectations were suffocating, pressing down on him with a force he couldn’t escape. But so was the loyalty he felt to Sebastian.

How could he choose between them? How could he sever the bond that had kept him tethered to the only person who had ever truly seen him?

As he left the study and made his way back to his chambers, the weight of his father’s words echoed in his mind. “He will destroy you.”

Ominis knew, deep down, that his father wasn’t entirely wrong. Sebastian was dangerous. His obsession with power, with breaking the rules, with pushing the limits of magic—it was all spiraling out of control. But Ominis couldn’t just turn his back on him. Not after everything they had been through. Not after the choices they had made together.

But if he didn’t… he feared his father’s warning might come true.

The estate was quiet as Ominis sat on the edge of his bed, his mind racing with the weight of it all. The Gaunt bloodline was a curse, binding him to a legacy of darkness and pride. But his friendship with Sebastian was its own kind of curse, pulling him deeper into a shadow he wasn’t sure he could escape.

And as the night stretched on, Ominis realized that no matter which path he chose, part of him would be lost forever.

[slytherizz]

I like to think that no matter how their paths diverge, Anne and Seb find their way back to each other

[sunnyrealist]

In my fanfic, I headcanon that Azkaban Prison is far worse than anyone could fathom - it’s absolute hell. The Aurors running the prison are corrupt as fuck, and no one can speak out or expose what is really going on: Rampant starvation, guards running a Hunger Games-type fighting ring, constant emotional abuse, prisoners given no contact with the outside world, daily physical torture, solitary confinement in complete darkness for days, the ever-present threat of Dementors, female inmates r**ed by prison staff whenever the mood strikes them. Sebastian experienced it all, so it’s no wonder that he is pretty fucked up for years and has night terrors the rest of his life.

Magic society seems so progressive in HL. There are married homosexual couples and trans people, while it was illegal among muggles in those times. And yet, it’s still the norm for Wizardkind to have THIS.

WTF, it’s worse than the death sentence. Who on Earth could think it’s a good idea to place ANYBODY in such conditions? It wasn’t much better in muggle jails, of course, but at least they didn’t have dementors.

[flamboyantjelly]

Post Azkaban Sebastian Sallow commission for @galaxiasgreen!