#sebastian sallows fan fiction

[peterparkersnose]

Apologies

pairing: Sebastian Sallows x fem!reader

word count: 2.8k

warnings: takes place sixth year, teasing, comments about the readers appearance, slight swearing from sebastian, nothing too bad here

a/n hi let’s not bully this fanfic to the point of deletion like the last one :) We do not support JK Rowling here and her views. Hate will be blocked and deleted. Also, don’t ask why Y/N has lipstick on her chin. Sebastian is probably sloppy anyways. Love the mc gifs, even though mine was brunette 😒. Anyways, MC isn’t any specific house in this story so feel free to choose your own!

side note: this is the first fic i edited with grammarly. no clue why i haven’t before, i use it on all my school papers. enjoy the somewhat grammatically correct fic! probably first one ever lmao

summary A joke Sebastian makes goes a little too far

masterlist

join the tag list

read time: 10 mins 31 seconds

“And don’t you just look wonderful today, Y/N!” Poppy cheered, joining your side as you walked down the Hogwarts halls. You smiled, knowing exactly what she was referring to.

“Thank you, Poppy! You look splendid as well,” you smiled, returning the compliment to your Hufflepuff friend. Poppy hastily ran in front of you and opened the door to Charms class. Your eyes quickly scanned the classroom, not looking for anything in particular. When they landed on him, your heart seemed to skip a beat like it always did.

Sebastian was already there; he and Ominis were arguing sitting at the table adjacent to yours and Poppy’s. Your eyes immediately snapped to the boy, but only briefly.

Sebastian was dressed down today, which suddenly made your appearance feel out of place. His white button-down with rolled-up sleeves and a loose Slytherin tie looked so simple in comparison to your new look. You yearned to take a second glance, but you were sure it would have been too obvious that you were looking at him.

As you took your seat and spoke to Poppy, you occasionally let your gaze drift beyond hers and to the boy— his hair was messy. Had he even combed it this morning? You could just visualize him ruffling it for just a brief moment, looking in the mirror, and thinking ‘Good enough’. He would be shrugging his shoulders and following Ominis out the door as he yelled at Sebastian for making him late.

The way his shoulders were spread as he lay his head in his arms placed on the table was almost enchanting to look at. Was he speaking to Ominis or the girl at the next table? Your heart began to race, as you didn’t want to know the answer to that question. His head bowed once more before he sat upright. Yawning, he stretched his arms behind him and his gaze suddenly met yours. As you snapped your gaze back to Poppy, you heard him let out a tired groan. Oh, he knew what he was doing.

“Y/N?” Poppy asked as you re gained your focus back on the conversation you were having. “Yes!” you answered, a little too loudly and confidently.

“What is it?” Poppy inquired, turning her head to see exactly what you were looking at.

“Poppy! Not now,” you whispered and looked down at your shoes. “He’s smirking, you know. Playing with the end of his tie like an idiot.”

“You were saying?” you asked, changing the subject back to the original topic. “Sorry,” Poppy sighed. You gave her a comforting smile. “What color is that? On your lips,” she asked. You took the tiny tube of lipstick out from your robes, opened the cap, and showed Poppy. “Imelda let me use her dark cherry balm she got from Hogsmeade. She said it suits my complexion well but… I’m still not quite sure.”

You had spent all night practicing with Imelda. In previous days you had expressed your interest in makeup after noticing Imelda’s long eyelashes and flushed cheeks. She taught you the right way to apply makeup and how to make it look simple. The first time you applied your own she described it as ‘horrendous’. So, after staying up hours after curfew, you finally mastered the look you were going for. Imelda reviewed it and let you finally out of the dormitory after making sure you weren’t going to class looking like a fool.

“You're going to have to teach me sometime! It looks absolutely stunning. I’m not sure how you don’t have every prefect swooning over you right now.” Poppy said, gazing over your makeup look. “I would love to teach you sometime Poppy, what about—”

As you were about to finish your sentence, you heard the stool next to Poppy scrape against the floor. Before you knew it, the brown-haired boy leaped from the student section and onto the floor. He then approached your table, simply placing his hands firmly near the edges of your textbook, and looked down at you.

“What was I hearing about prefects?” he asked, squinting and studying your face. If the blush wasn’t enough, you were sure you were bright red.

“Are you interested in becoming one next year?” he asked. You shrugged, trying to ignore his addicting gaze. Poppy smiled and happily answered the question for you “I was just saying how I was surprised that—”

“Poppy!” you proclaimed, hitting her boot with the tip of yours. All in good fun, Poppy was one to exploit your confided crush on Sebastian any day.

“I have no interest in becoming a prefect, Sebastian.” you sighed, finally giving in and looking up at him. He took a step back, still squinting.

“Are you interested in becoming a clown then? With this new look, you’ll make a perfect carnie.”

Sebastian was expecting an eye roll and some slight beratement from you for that comment, but instead, he was met with a wide eyed-lips partially parted look from you. For the first time ever he considered that he may have crossed the line with you.

You were unsure of what to say.

“Sebastian!” Ominis called from their table. “Leave her alone. You have better things to do with your time than berating our friend.”

Poppy gave your arm a reassuring pat as Sebastian awkwardly made his way back to his seat. “He didn’t mean it. He’s just a stupid boy, he doesn’t know what he’s talking about,” she whispered to you just as Professor Ronan began his descent down the stairs from his office.

The pit in your stomach grew as the thought of Sebastian Sallows calling your work that you worked so hard on a ��carnie’ ran through your head. 

-

“You're being oddly still,” Ominis whispered to Sebastian. He didn’t answer, Sebastian just stared blankly at the rug pattern Professor Roman was walking upon. Ominis poked Sebastian with his wand.

“I’m fine.” he gritted between his teeth. In reality, he was replaying the encounter he had with you just minutes before. Oh, how he wishes he could just suck those words back in. He always seems to mess something up.

“What exactly did you say to Y/N?” Ominis asked. Sebastian let out a sigh. “Nothing-”

“You're a terrible liar.”

“You're a terrible see-er,”

“Your comeback was weak.” Ominis sighed. “Just like your game,” he added.

“My what?”

The room was suddenly quiet and all eyes were on Sebastian. He had said that way too loudly.

“Is everything-” Professor Ronan began to ask Sebastian, but was interrupted.

Garreth Weasley had just made his way into the classroom. The large doors boomed as they shut behind him.

Garreth was a flirt. He would always try to make moves at you that you kindly rejected, but now it was more fun than serious.

He looked your way with a smooth look on his face, but his emotions quickly dropped. “Merlin’s beard Y/N! What did you do, make out with Peeves? He seems to have gotten some of those crazy colors on you!”

“Garreth!” Poppy shouted, doing her best to defend her friend.

That was enough of this makeup business.

You slammed your stool in as you left the Charms classroom almost in tears. Making your way towards the nearest bathroom, you looked in the mirror and looked at the running mascara down your cheeks.

Back in the classroom, there was a stir. Sebastian rose from his seat and met Garreth where he was standing. He took out his wand in one hand, and in the other he grabbed Garreth’s collar, jolting the boy slightly.

“Do that again, and you’ll wish you didn’t.”

Garreth stared at Sebastian with confused fear in his eyes. Sebastian’s grip on his collar tightened as his wand was pointed at Garreth’s neck. Usually, Sebastian was one to go along with his antics; why such the change now?

“Mr. Weasley and Mr. Sallows!” Professor Ronan yelled, causing Sebastian to drop his hold on Garreth. “This behavior is unacceptable! I will be having a word with your Aunt, Mr. Weasley.”

Garreth groaned. 

“And for you, Mr. Sallows— return to your common room. We will discuss this matter later,” Professor Ronan said, shoving the two boys even farther apart with his hands.

An excuse to miss class? Sebastian would have done this ages ago if he knew it would have had this result. You didn’t have to ask him twice.

As Sebastian turned the corner and was about to descend down the stairs, he noticed your books piled outside the bathroom. He hesitated to at first, but he pressed his ear against the door. Tiny sniffles came from inside. His hand wrapped around the doorknob, but to no avail. It was locked.

“Alohamora,” he whispered.

Your ears perked as you heard the lock on the restroom click. Quickly, you tried to collect yourself and be as silent as you could to allow the other girl to use the restroom. Or maybe it was Poppy coming to check in on you. Either way, you wanted to be alone. You stared down at the towel in your hand, smeared with the work you were so proud of just minutes before.

And then suddenly, you heard a voice. One you never expected to hear in a woman’s restroom.

“Y/N?” Sebastian asked.

What was he doing in here?

His shoes suddenly came into view as he walked in front of your stall.

“Go away, Sebastian.”

He sighed. “I can’t just do that,”

You sat silently, hoping that if you tried hard enough you could apparate somewhere else.

“Are you decent?” Sebastian asked. “Huh?” you replied, confused. Another swift “Alohamora” came from Sebastian. You rose from the toilet and slammed your arm against the door, using your whole body weight to keep him out. But to no avail, Sebastian was taller and stronger than you.

He was taken aback as you came into view. His heart simply broke at the vision in front of him.

“No,” he whispered almost in shock as he entered the stall with you. The guilt began to rise as he knew he was partially responsible for this.

“Sebastian please,” you begged, turning away. It was embarrassing enough that he had to see you like that; make-up smeared on your face that was left over and tear-stained cheeks weren’t the ideal look.

He took your hand carefully. Only entwining a few fingers at first before you allowed his hand into yours, against your better judgment. He walked out of the stall with you and stood in front of a sink.

“Sit,” he ordered. You stared at him in confusion. “Go on, don’t make me lift you.”

You leaped on the countertop and shuttered a bit as your skirt lifted and your bum hit the cool surface. Sweeping your skirt down nicely, you watched as Sebastian fetched a clean towel and began to wet it.

“What are you doing?” you asked as he ran out the damp towel. Sebastian didn’t answer, instead placing one hand on your jawline to steady your face. You almost slapped his hand out of place until the warm cloth reached your cheek.

“Try not to squirm, love.”

He moved so gently as the cloth ran over your cheeks. Sebastian hated seeing the mascara stains and was happy to see them washed away.

You couldn’t help it—more tears began to form in your lash line.

“No, no,” Sebastian said to reassure you. His hand left your jaw and moved to your hand in your lap. His fingers entwined with yours.

The cloth began to grow cold. Sebastian was almost done wiping your face, his gaze not leaving you once. As he made his final round around, making sure he got everything, his thumb brushed your lips by accident. The feeling of your soft lips was enough to send him wild.

He would be lying if he didn’t admit that when he saw you enter the classroom that he didn’t want that dark, honey-duke color all over his lips.

He sighed as he set the dirty towel next to the one you had used previously in the sink.

“I apologize,” he said sincerely.

“Sebastian—”

“Please, Y/N. I feel terrible.”

You looked down, his hand was still in yours. With his other hand, he brought his hand up to your chin and tilted it back into his line of sight.

“What can I do to make it up to you?”

“I…” you tried to answer. He seemed to be getting closer and closer with each breath.

“Do you want me to…” Sebastian speculated, his face nearing the side of your head. You could feel his breath on your ear.

“…fuck up Garreth?”

A slight gasp came from you as his hand moved from yours to your waist.

“Mm, Sebastian no.” you whimpered.

“Or… let me make it up to you.”

“P-please,” you sighed, nervous to move another inch. “What can I do?” he asked.

A sly smile came to your face.

“I do have one thing in mind.”

Your hand pushed him back from his close stance to you. Feeling his chest for the first time was quite a different experience. You didn’t expect to feel the warmth coming off his body through his thin shirt.

Hopping off the counter, Sebastian was now noticeably taller than you once again. Your hand dipped in your robes and pulled out Imelda’s lip balm.

“And?” he asked, getting impatient as he watched you take off the cap and place it on the counter. Sebastian tapped his finger on the counter. Taking one last glance at his ruffled hair and tattered stance, you turn to the mirror and applied a thick layer of the dark, thin balm on your lips.

“I want you to wear it.”

He let out a laugh. “It’s that simple? Give it to me. It’s not that bad anyways-”

Sebastian reached for the tube of lipstick. You quickly snatched it in your hands and snapped it away.

“W-what was that for? Y/N, come on now. Your confusing me. What do you want?”

You smirked, cocking your hips against the counter. “I said Sebastian, I want you to wear it.”

His jaw hinged as he began to get frustrated. All he was doing was trying to help you, and you were now playing games. Sebastian was done being toyed with. Bending down to become eye level with you once again, he spoke. His nose nearly touched the bridge of yours.

“And how would I do that? You obliviated the thing in to-”

You pushed up with your toes as you took the leap and kissed Sebastian. His eyes shot wide open as you kept yours shut. As he realized what was finally happening, his hands quickly moved to the back of your neck and into your hair. As he began to straighten his back, you began to lose him as he was too tall.

“Oh fuck…” he muttered, grabbing you and vaulting you into his arms and quickly sitting you up on the counter as he had previously threatened. With a very few seconds of breathing, his lips were back on yours and was eager as ever. His hands steadied at your waist as you let out a groan as he pushed down. He stood in between your legs, towering down over you.

As the kiss finally dissolved, his hands cupped your cheeks and looked down at you endearingly. A wide smile came to your face that matched his. You chuckled.

“What is it?” he teased, thinking you were being playful. “Your teeth, Sebastian.”

He looked up in the mirror and gave it a stupid grin. He had the dark lipstick all over his teeth. “Bloody hell, this stuff doesn’t taste good,” he whined as he used his finger to wipe off the excess lipstick. “It’s not meant to eat,”

“I can tell.”

Just as the banter was ending, the lock on the women’s restroom began to jiggle.

Sebastian gave you a worried look as the lock hooked open. In mere seconds, he gave you his infamous smirk and snapped his fingers. He was gone. Apparated out. Confused but not surprised that he knew how to do that, you let the inevitable happen and the door swings open.

“Y/N!” Poppy announced, rushing to find you sitting on the counter. “Are you alright?” she asked confused. To be fair, you were sitting on the bathroom counter with your legs spread a little too far for comfort, lipstick smeared all over your lips and partially your chin (don’t ask) and your hair was disheveled.

“Never better, Popps.”

You followed Poppy out of the bathroom and down the hallway. “You can’t go into class looking like that!”

You shrugged and tugged down your skirt. “Let’s get you cleaned up in my room.”

You followed Poppy once again. After moments of walking silently, she stopped.

“Are you alright?” you asked her.

Poppy had a tooth-baring grin on her face. “He was in there, wasn’t he!” she accused, excitement rising in her demeanor.

Your eyebrows rose as you sighed. She had finally come to the realization. Poppy was a smart girl, but you didn’t think she was that smart. You didn’t mind anyways, she was going to get all the details once you reached her quarters.

“I don’t know what you're talking about,” you dauntingly said, as you made your way further down the hall.

“I know the look of love when I see it.” Poppy said, catching up with you.

tag list: @dani5216 @uwiuwi @alohastyles-x @mandoloriancookie @maddieinnit0 @alexxavicry @scoliobean @avengersfan25 @nyotamalfoy @milly-louise @mxtokko

[writing-intheundercroft]

The Night Shift

AO3 Link

Pairing: Auror!Sebastian x F!MC

Word Count: 10,206

Rating: T (just some smooches but plenty of angst)

Summary: You're the lead healer in the St. Mungo's intensive care unit, and a painfully familiar face ends up in your ward.

A/N: Took a break from my long fics this week to deliver a long angsty Seb one shot. I heard Phoebe Bridgers cover Night Shift and became feral over it. Perhaps it needs a smutty part two???

Night One

“I’m so glad you were able to slip away from work for a bit.” Poppy says, pouring tea into your cup.

You smile up at the brunette girl, who still wears her hair in a cropped bob, albeit a bit more fashionable now that you’re in your twenties.  You miss Poppy’s presence in your life, but her career as a mazoologist and yours as a lead healer in the intensive care unit of St. Mungo’s has your schedules rarely crossing.  

“It’s nice to be out in the sunlight,” you say coyly, lifting the cup to your mouth. It's the truth–you haven’t been out to tea with a friend, dressed in a pretty lace gown in what feels like ages.  Your career usually has you in a tightly pulled bun, hair out of your face to focus on your patients, with bloodied aprons.  Magic can heal most ailments, but your ancient abilities make you the best bet for the most gravely wounded.  So much so that you’ve worked six nights a week every week for the past five years, sleeping during the day to make it to your overnight shifts at the hospital.

With few exceptions.

But there’s coverage today, giving you a rare Saturday afternoon off to enjoy the warm spring day.  You and Poppy are sitting outside a tea shop in Diagon Alley, catching up on all things personal, while people watching.  It’s strange, you think, to be surrounded by so many people.  You leave for your shift at seven thirty in the evening, when most people are getting home for dinner, and return to your flat far after everyone has left for work.  

Poppy had just started telling you a story about a wild herd of manticores she’d encountered on her travels abroad, when a familiar face walked up to your table.

“Merlin’s beard, I never thought I’d see the likes of you two ever again,” Andrew Larson grins.

“Andrew,” Poppy smiles. “It’s good to see you.”

There are obligatory kisses on the cheek as the handsome Ravenclaw pulls up a chair. “What are you doing in town, Poppy?”  

“Visiting my gran, of course.” She tilts her head towards you. “And catching up with friends.”

“And you, it’s like you’re back from beyond the grave.” Andrew shifts his attention, teasing you. “Haven’t seen you in a long time.”

You roll your eyes, crossing your arms. “Just busy keeping people from their graves, that’s all.”

“I’ve heard.” Andrew elbows you. “Youngest lead healer in all of St. Mungo’s.”

“Yet being the youngest earned me the night shift.” You wrinkle your nose.  “And very few days off.”

“How’s the auror office doing?” Poppy quips, leaning her chin into her palm.

Andrew shrugs. “Busy; we’re working on a big case right now, but we finally got a few hours off to enjoy lunch.  I was just heading over to the Cauldron, meeting Sallow and Clopton for a bite.”

You swallow thickly.  It’s been five years since you last spoke to Sebastian Sallow.  At this point, you can’t exactly remember how it ended, except that the two of you had screamed at one another.  You were fairly certain you’d thrown a book at his head, and he’d knocked over your favorite mug in the process. You still had it, the handle broken off, now used as a quill holder at your desk.

“Oi, Larson!  Quit flirting, we’ve just gotten a message. All hands on deck at the office.” 

Both you and Poppy turn to the voice; Everett Clopton is standing a few paces away, wearing a smart suit.  He still has his gold wire glasses, but he’s grown into them. He’s wearing a hat, tipping the brim to you both in acknowledgement.

You hate the way your breath hitches when you see their companion.  Sebastian is also dressed well, sporting a tweed three piece suit, shiny black dress shoes, and a gold auror badge attached to his lapel.  He meets your gaze briefly before looking back up to Andrew, who’s moving the chair back to its proper table.

“Emergency meeting,” Sebastian utters gloomily. “Ruined a good lunch.”

Your stomach twists at the sound of his voice.  It’s no more than six words, but your insides feel like a wet towel being wrung out.  And Sebastian doesn’t even have the decency to look at you, avoiding eye contact with the person he considered his best friend for three years.  The audacity of him, to completely ignore the person who once held his fate in their hands–you feel the bile rising in your throat, swallowing down the anger that once consumed you.

No, you won’t let a tiny interaction with Sebastian ruin five years of hard work.  You stare at the cutlery on the table, willing him to leave.

Andrew Larson sighs, rapping his knuckles against the table. “It was good seeing you girls,” he smiles. “Hopefully I run into you again.”

The three boys–men, rather, you are all twenty three at this point–shuffle away.  

There is a heavy silence between you and Poppy, until she clears her throat.

“Are you okay?” she asks softly.

You nod, collecting yourself as you smile at her. “Perfectly fine.  It’s been ages, Poppy. We’re all over it.”

She grabs your gloved hand, pulling it towards her.  “You certainly are,” she says playfully, twisting the sparkling bauble on your left ring finger. “It’s gorgeous, by the way.”

“I never get to wear it,” you admit sheepishly. It’s been a month since your engagement, and you’ve hardly worn your ring; your fiance’s parents are perturbed that the announcement hasn’t been posted to the Daily Prophet yet. Despite having courted for the last year and a half, it still feels like everything has moved too fast, like you’ve fallen off your broom mid flight. For the most part, your engagement ring is safely tucked in its box atop your dresser, at the risk of getting bodily fluids on it during your shifts.

“He’s a lucky man.” Poppy echoes, sitting back in her chair. “You are happy, aren’t you?”

You’re doing fine, you think.  You’re at the top of your field.  You have a fine flat in a nice part of London, and a promise from a man that’s kind to you.  The kind of man who waited for you to get off your shift to bring you breakfast, and took you to a nice restaurant on your Friday nights off. You hadn’t expected a pretty ring from him, especially since you only graced him with your presence once a week, but then again, your last relationship had taught you not to expect anything at all.

A flash of brunette hair crosses your mind; you blink away the thought.

“I’m happy.  Very happy,” you say simply, holding your teacup up to your lips again. “So about the manticores…”

You jolt out of bed, a blue wisp of a rabbit bouncing around your bedroom.  It’s rare to get a patronus message at this hour; it can only mean an emergency at the hospital.  It also must be bad, considering they’re calling you in on your day off.

Without another thought, you tumble out of bed, rushing to your wardrobe to pull out your clothes.  Your unit specifically wears a deep purple–dark enough to hide stains.  Your shrug on undergarments and petticoats, and a burgundy gown with a high neckline.  Your hands know exactly how to tighten your hair into a knot within a minute, having perfected the craft over the five years of your career. Your wand is stowed in your dress pocket; you’ll grab an apron at the ward.  Grabbing a fistful of floo powder next to your fireplace, you step in, yelling out for St. Mungo’s.

The ward is in a flurry as you step out of the flames.  A nurse hands you a white cotton apron, which you wrap around your waist as you hold your wand between your teeth.  There are men all over, gashed and bleeding, as other healers take their information. 

“What’s happened?” You bark at an orderly, rubbing the sleep from your eyes.

“Auror ambush by some ashwinders,” he says dryly. “It’s awful.  Lost a few–even more are bleeding.  It’s dark magic, some sort of spell to keep the wounds bleeding.”

“Of course it is, those bastards.” You mutter. “I’ll take the worst of them.  Can someone bring me a coffee?”

He nods, pointing over to a bay of beds a few feet away. “Those three–they specifically requested you.” He hands off the charts, promising a caffeinated beverage.

You’re about to start flipping through the charts when you hear your name.  Your head flies up at the familiar voice, and you feel the blood drain from your face. You can see Everett Clopton waving his hands at you; Andrew Larson’s voice is yelling behind the curtain.  And just your luck, a pair of black shiny dress shoes are dangling off the examination table, twisted in an unnatural way.

Before you even realize it, you’re running to them.  The charts are promptly cast onto the side table when you duck behind the curtain, a gasp catching in your throat.

Sebastian looks awful.  

Correction–Sebastian looks dead.

“He jumped in front of me,” Everett panics, his hands on his head. “He shouldn’t have–we were talking, we thought we were out of the thick of it–”

“He’s been hit badly,” Andrew interjects.  His sleeves are bloodied from trying to apply pressure to a gash across Sebastian’s chest, the blood seeping through his shirt and vest. “You have to do something,” he pleads. “He’s the best of us–we can’t lose him.”

“Move,” you urge the two of them.  They scoot out of your way, and you make quick work of Sebastian’s clothing.

Years ago, tearing off Sebastian’s shirt would’ve been done out of passion, out of love.  You push those thoughts out of your mind as you rip through his white dress shirt, which is sopping wet with blood. Sebastian’s skin is cold and clammy; even his freckles are pale, disappearing from his face.

“Get me some dittany and shrivelfigs,” you screech at the other healers. “And the blood renewing potions, please.” You run your hand and your wand over Sebastian’s wounds, uttering a healing charm. “Vulnera sanentur, vulnera sanentur, vulnera sanentur,” you mutter under your breath.  The spell isn’t healing fast enough, Sebastian is still losing too much blood.

You let out the  blue wisps of magic from your fingertips as you channel some of your ancient magic into the healing spell. You’re still mad at Sebastian, of course, but you’ll be damned if he dies on your watch.  

To your relief, the wounds start knitting themselves shut faster, but the scars look awful, all purpled and raised.  Another healer is next to you, urgently crushing the dittany and shrivelfigs into a paste–an idea you got from the patient lying in front of you during your sixth year.  You’d been battered so often during Crossed Wands, the two of you had experimented with salves and balms to lessen the appearance of your scars. 

“He appears to be stabilizing,” the junior healer claims. “Good job, as always.”

You suppress the choked out cry that’s stuck in your throat as you think of Ominis, and how he used to scold the two of you for experimenting.  He’d be thankful now that you did.

“There’s others,” another healer urges you. “We must move on to the next.”

You don’t want to.  Sebastian seems to be stirring, groaning as the healer rubs the salve onto the gaping wound that streaks across his chest.  You can hear Everett and Andrew crying and laughing on the other side of the curtain, exclaiming your name for having saved their partner.

There’s so much commotion, you could swear Sebastian uttered your name, but when you look back, his head is flat on the table, eyes shut.  The color is slowly returning to him, now no longer pale and gray.

“We have to keep him for observation,” you instruct another healer, handing her Sebastian’s chart. “I’ll check on him later.  In the meantime, there are others.”

Without another glance, you move on to the next bay.

“Excellent work as always,” your boss pats you on the shoulder. “You saved six good men tonight with your quick work.”

“I should just move into the ward,” you mutter under your breath before taking a large swig of coffee.  

Your dress is stained with blood, fingers aching from all the healing you’d done.  From the twelve aurors in the ambush, three had superficial wounds (Larson and Clopton included).  Two had passed in the field, another before you’d gotten to the hospital.  But all six of the aurors you’d treated, Sebastian included, were now tucked into private rooms, safe and breathing. You were keeping them for observation, unsure of what kind of curse the ashwinders had used on them.  Your ancient magic managed to seal the wounds, but all were badly scarring.  They’d all have to stay until you could rule out the cause.

After a much needed shower and an owl sent to your fiance, regretfully informing him you’d not make it to brunch with his parents, you start making your rounds. Most of your patients are sleeping deeply, others dizzily asking what happened.  You save Sebastian’s room for last; Clopton and Larson, faithful companions, are sleeping in chairs outside of his room.

You quietly shut the door behind you, gulping as you stare at the man laying in the hospital bed. His chubby cheeks are long gone, hollowed and chiseled by age. You’d laughed at him when you were seventeen and he claimed he had a beard coming in; now you can see traces of stubble lining his jaw. His unruly chestnut hair has been brushed out of his face in a way you know he’ll hate.

But you don’t know that, not truly. Because you don’t know Sebastian anymore.

“Oh Sebastian,” you tut, sitting at a stool next to his bed. You hover your hands over his body, a misty blue glow emitting from them. No internal bleeding at least. He’s had at least three blood renewing potions, and his breathing is steady. You would examine the scars across his chest and torso, but the thought of undressing him in his current state is inappropriate to you. 

You’re about to get up, leave him to his slumber when you hear it. He whispers your name in his sleep, head falling to the side. And instead of him being the one with a gaping wound, you feel like a hole has been drilled into your chest. 

Maybe you’ll ask for tomorrow off.

Night Two

You’d asked for the day off again, but the request was denied.  Begrudgingly, you dress for your shift, tucking your hair behind your ears as you walk with your daytime counterpart down the hallway.

“You’ve missed all the commotion,” your fellow healer gasps.  She’s filling you in on the day shift, and all that’s transpired since you left in the morning. “There was a memory charm laced in with that blood curse from the ashwinders—some of them have lost weeks, years of memories. Not recognizing their wives or their children; we’ve had to close the doors to all visitors.”

“That’s a nasty curse.” You mutter, flipping through charts. Only someone sick in the head would mess with memory tampering curses—you wonder why no one has petitioned for them to be banned. The long term care wing at St. Mungos is filled with too many people who’d tinkered with memory spells, and you sincerely hope none of the aurors under your care end up there.

“Terrible, of course. But it made for an interesting day.” She hums. “You should’ve seen Rowle’s wife, security had to cart her out after he called her the wrong name. Think he courted her twin sister too.” 

You laugh with her as you walk through the hallway, until your heart fills with dread.  

“How is Sallow?  The patient in 213.”

She tilts her head. “Fine I think–oh, he was asking for you.  Do you know him?”

You fight back the red flush that’s creeping up your neck. “We were schoolmates.” You say. Nothing more. Sebastian can’t be more, especially after you’d done such hard work to forget him in the first place.

After your colleague has clocked out and you’ve checked all your other patients, you quietly rap your knuckles against Sebastian’s door.  It’s late enough at night that he might be asleep already, and you can avoid the entire awkward conversation.

“Come in!” 

Shit.

You open the door, and Sebastian is staring right back at you.  He isn’t scowling like you thought he would be–his eyes are bright, a beaming smile on his lips.

“They told me you were working the night shift.” he says happily, scratching at the collar of his hospital gown. “I stayed awake.”

“Right, Mr. Sallow,” You say curtly, eyes down at the chart in front of you. “It is late, you should be getting rest–”

“But I’ve been waiting for you,” he frowns. 

You look up at him, and instead of a grown man, you see the puppy dog eyes that got you in trouble the few years you had at Hogwarts. “Mr. Sallow, rest is essential to your healing. You’ve been through quite the ordeal, and you need to go to sleep.”

“Why are you talking to me like you don’t know me?” Sebastian asks, eyebrows furrowed in confusion. “Pet, it’s me.”

You inhale sharply, white knuckling the edge of the bed. “Sebastian,” you mutter (you hate how easily his name rolls off your lips still), “what year do you think it is?”

He rolls his eyes and chuffs. “It’s 1893, duh.”

“It’s not,” you sigh. “It’s 1898. You were in an ambush yesterday, and it seems the Ashwinders are using a memory curse as retaliation nowadays.”

He blinks at you for a moment, before he bursts into laughter. “Really?  I’ve lost five damn years in my head?  What have I missed? Don’t tell me we’re not married yet.”  Only Sebastian could be jovial about such a matter; all the others were utterly distraught at losing their memories.

“Sebastian, darling, we haven’t seen each other in five years.” you confess, moving to the edge of the bed.  Your voice is quiet, and although it’s been ages since you last called him darling, you think it might be too much on his poor heart if you don’t. The poor man just asked if you were married, for Merlin’s sake.

His smile fades. “What?”

“We…we went our separate ways five years ago.” You clear your throat. “It…it was a mutual decision.” you lie.  Was it a lie?  You honestly can’t remember.

“I would never,” Sebastian bites back.  “I would never break up with you.”

“Darling, it’s been a very long time,” you say softly, wringing your hands together. “And I’m okay–you’re okay.  We’re both doing well…just on our own now.”

“I can’t–this doesn’t make sense,” he jolts away from your touch, and you flinch. “Why would I ever agree to such a thing?” 

You can recognize the tell tale signs of panic on a patient’s face, so you hurry over to the cupboard, pouring a glass of water.  Sebastian is too far away to see you slip the vial of dreamless sleep into the glass, swirling it into oblivion.

“Here, drink this.  You’ll feel much better,” you assure him. 

Sebastian absentmindedly takes the glass, gulping down the water as he tries to make sense of the current situation. “It doesn’t make sense,” he mutters under his breath as he starts rubbing his eyes.  He’s fighting the effects, and he looks up at you, a deep set frown on his face. “You dosed me, dammit.” The glass rolls out of his hand and onto the bed, where you scoop it up. 

“I’m sorry,” you apologize, and it's sincere.  But you’re not equipped to handle Sebastian in such a state–you aren’t equipped to handle him, period.  It’s been five years since you’ve had to mind his temper, and your heart can’t handle the pain.  

Before you know it, Sebastian is knocked out, the dreamless sleeping draught taking over his body.  With his eyes tightly shut, you can finally examine him.  The scars across his chest are still purple, bruises lining his torso.  Your fingers dance across his skin trying to heal him, but alas, they stay.

You make notes on his chart, letting the other healers know he may be groggy and upset when he wakes in the morning. Even though they’ve put a no visitors policy on the aurors, you remind them to call upon Ominis and Anne to see if they can talk some sense into him.  

The last you’d asked Natty about Sebastian, he was happy.  He was climbing up the ranks in the auror office, and he’d finally moved out of Ominis’s spare room.  You’d cut her off once she started telling you how he was dating–that you didn’t need to know.

That had been two years ago.  You wonder what’s changed since then.

Night Three

Your pleas for a night off have gone unanswered.  Your boss tells you that you’re too integral to the auror case to be gone for more than twelve hours.  

There’s a note left by your fiance’s owl; he’s sad you missed brunch, but he’s excited to take you out on Friday, your next scheduled day off.  His mother is insistent the two of you sit for an engagement portrait that will be posted in the Daily Prophet to announce your impending union.  You fold the note and toss it onto your desk; when you have a free moment, you’ll write a letter explaining that you would like a lengthy engagement.

Planning a wedding and working the night shift is just too much work for you.  You twist your large engagement ring off your finger and put it in its box before taking the floo network to St. Mungo’s.

You’re barely five steps out of the fireplace before a body hits you.  

“Thank goodness you’re here,” Anne Sallow breathes, her arms enveloping you. “You saved him. He’d be dead if it weren’t for you.”

“Anne,” you sigh into her touch.  Similar to her brother, it’s been ages since you’ve seen her.  She’s still thin and delicate, but her bangs are long grown out. “What are you still doing here?  It’s so late.”

“Ominis and I wanted to catch you,” she claims. “The healers called us in to talk to Sebastian.”

“Right, I asked them to.” you say, smoothing your apron. “How was he today?”

Anne winces. “He’s…he’s still pretty confused.”

You give her a sympathetic smile, biting back the sarcastic words you had in mind. “It must be awful.”

Anne pulls away, digging her toe into the ground. “He keeps asking what happened between the two of you.  I’m not sure what to say.” she admits.

You bite your lower lip. “You can tell him the truth.  That we ended amicably.  That we were fine.”

“If you were fine, you wouldn’t have disappeared for five years.” a voice says behind you.

It only takes you a second to recognize the rich voice of Ominis Gaunt.  Whirling around, you throw your arms around the tall blonde.  It’s been ages since you’ve given him a hug let alone seen him, so he chuckles into your shoulder when you grasp him.

“I missed you,” you pat his cheek.

“We missed you,” Ominis hums. “I’m surprised St. Mungo’s would call me; I haven’t been Sebastian’s emergency contact for a while.”

You furrow your eyebrows as Anne takes Ominis’s arm. Why wouldn’t he be his emergency contact?  Ominis is his best friend, and having been together with Anne for so long, practically his brother.

That’s a question for another time, you decide.

“It’s late, you two should be getting home.  Visitor hours are over.”  you remind them.

“I’m not leaving before you promise to see me again,” Ominis says sternly. “Five years is far too long.”

You place a reassuring hand on his shoulder. “Of course. Ominis, I’m sorry.  I just thought that when things ended, the two of you were best friends…”

“That was my decision to make,” he says softly. “Not yours.  I decide whose side I’m on.”

Ominis’s words warm your heart, but they also leave cracks.  Ominis and Sebastian were a package deal when you met them, and you’ve spent far too much of your time with the boys driving them apart. 

After much coaxing, Ominis and Anne take their leave.  You’re finally able to start your rounds.  Rowle is starting to regain his memories and they’ve allowed his wife back into the ward.  Travers still has a nasty gash on his leg that’s festering, but he’s otherwise remembering things from last week.  Cattermole is fast asleep, so you avoid his room to let him get some more rest.

Your hand falters on the handle of room 213, taking a deep breath before you push in.  Just as you thought, Sebastian isn’t asleep.  He’s sitting upright in bed, arms crossed over his chest, frowning at you.

“You’re looking much better,” you offer, shutting the door behind you.

“You gave me a sleeping draught last night,” he accuses you. “That’s not fair.”

“You were getting hysterical, Sebastian.” you remind him, flipping through his chart.  Nothing particularly new, and no memories back.  He’s spent the entire day asking for you, the chart says, and fighting with orderlies.  It mentions Ominis and Anne arriving, and that the two gentlemen had sharp words for one another. Ominis was right—he isn’t Sebastian’s emergency contact anymore. There’s an unfamiliar name, a woman.

“Open your shirt, please.”

Sebastian waggles his eyebrows at you. “Are you sure we’re not together?”

You roll your eyes. “Your cheekiness, I didn’t miss it.” you mutter, hands on your hips. “I need you to take your shirt off so I can check your wounds, you idiot.”

Sebastian gives you a familiar grin as he unbuttons his pajama shirt; he’s flexing his muscles, you can tell.  A pinch to his pectoral has him yowling, and he stops.  You grin at him, and he rolls his eyes.

“Perhaps we did break up,” he grumbles.

Sebastian’s breath stutters as your fingers prod at his scars. They’re still ugly and raised, but the color is improving. 

“I’m not sure there’s much more I can do,” you frown. “I think they’ll stay.”

“That’s fine,” Sebastian breathes. “You did always say you preferred when I was roughed up.” 

You give him a strained look. “Sebastian–”

“Please, listen to me.” Sebastian urges. “Ominis…he told me what happened between us. And I really, truly can’t believe we would let it get to that.” Your name is a gentle whisper from his mouth, and he pushes his brunette hair out of his eyes. “I didn’t mean to neglect you.”

You swallow thickly, backing up. “We were so young, Sebastian.  Let’s leave the past in the past, please.”

“Ominis and I haven’t spoken in two years.” Sebastian interjects. “He just told me.  Annie says we had a fight, and you were part of it.”

You turn around, shutting your eyes. “I don’t want to hear this,” you admit weakly.

Sebastian is rustling in his sheets; he lets out a low hiss as he adjusts his still healing torso. “If the version of me, the one that got cursed, isn’t talking to you, Anne, or Ominis…I don’t want to go back to that.  I don’t want to be that version of me.” Sebastian pleads. “If that’s the case, I don’t want to remember.”

“You have friends, Sebastian.” You remind him, turning to face him again. “You have friends, your job…” you trail off, picking up his chart again.  You pinpoint the section with his emergency contact; a woman who is likely sitting at home, worried sick over him. “You have a girlfriend, probably.  One who is desperate to see you.” There’s a lump in your throat as you try to imagine her, but your mind comes up blank.

“I don’t care,” Sebastian breathes. “She’s a stranger.”

“I’m the stranger,” you remind him. “Sebastian…I’m engaged. I’m getting married next spring.” 

That’s a lie–you and your fiance haven’t even discussed a timeline, but it seems more official to say it with a season.

The hope on Sebastian’s face crumbles, eyes wide as he stares at you.

“You’re engaged,” he croaks.

“Engaged.” The more you say it, the more it’s real. “He’s lovely.  You would like him.” Now that's an even bigger lie–Sebastian would’ve called him a prat if he met him. You appreciate your fiance’s softness and meekness, especially after having been with a firecracker hothead for most of your teens.

Sebastian is crumpled in bed, twisting onto his side. “I’d like to go to bed now,” he mumbles.  It was textbook Sebastian–whenever something didn’t go his way, he’d turn away from you in bed like a petulant child.  It’s almost a relief to see that he does the same thing at twenty three years old.

“If you ring the bell, someone will come to aid you.” You wave your wand, dimming the lights. “You can ask for someone else, if you’d like.”  

Sebastian doesn’t say anything as you shut the door, and when he does ring the bell for assistance, he requests anyone but you. It’s stupid to be upset over, it’s what you wanted–for him to stop pestering you.  

But you have a nice long cry in the potions ingredient cupboard anyways.  

The rest of your shift goes by uneventfully.  Rowle has regained his memories and will be discharged in the morning.  Cattermole finally woke up from his deep sleep and he’s on the mend, moved out of the intensive care ward. Travers has also been discharged, prescribed a salve to make sure the cut on his leg stays clean.  It leaves Roberts, Jorkins, and Sallow as your only three patients left from the case, and perhaps now your boss will let you take a night off.

Night Four

“I wanted to apologize for last night,” Sebastian says sheepishly.

“Whatever for?” You mumble, pressing a strip of gauze to his chest wound.  You’re trying a new salve recipe you’ve been working on, just to see if it’ll help break down the scar tissue.  His bruises are starting to go yellow, and if he works back up on his memory, Sebastian can be discharged from your ward.

“For being rude.” Sebastian sighs. “I’m…it’s starting to come back to me a bit now.”

You look up at him, eyebrows raised. “Is it?”

“We fought that night.” Sebastian swallows thickly. “You and me.  I can’t exactly remember what we fought about, but you threw a book at me.”

“And I hit your eyebrow.” You remind him.

“Lucky shot,” Sebastian rolls his eyes, and you have to suppress a laugh. He winces as you press the salve in; his body is still sensitive.

“I’m sorry for that.  I never got to apologize to you,” you admit, rubbing the mixture in. “But I was embarrassed.”

“Embarrassed about what?” Sebastian asks softly.

“For putting up with all of it,” you pat another piece of gauze over the salve.  Sebastian looks like a mess and he’ll have to sleep sitting up, but you’re hoping to salvage his handsome chest. There are a bevy of flower vases strewn across the room, and plenty of Sebastian’s favorite sweets piled on his bedside table.

“I see you had quite a few visitors today.” 

Sebastian nods, trying not to move too much. “Anne and Ominis again; he’s warming back up to me, I know it.” he brags. “Clopton and Larson too. I can’t believe I was paired up with two Ravenclaws as partners. That’s probably how I got all bungled up in the first place.”

“Everett said you were quite the hero,” you back away, admiring your work (and his muscles, he’s grown quite a bit since you last saw him).  “And they stayed the entire night when you first came into the ward, so I know they’re loyal to you.”

There is a silence between you two for a moment, until Sebastian breaks the tension.

“She visited earlier.” Sebastian echoed. “Rebecca.”

You turn away at the name; at least it’s not the girl you remember from your last argument.  “Rebecca is a lovely name,” you offer.  It’s all you can give him without treading into dangerous waters.  You’re engaged after all, and stuck patting balm into the chest of your former lover.

“She was distraught.” Sebastian hummed. “Hates the scars.”

You turn around, rolling your eyes. “She’s dating an auror, she should get used to it.” you scowl. 

“That’s what I said,” Sebastian laughs, trying not to move the salve covered strips. “But she wasn’t having it.  She was worried I would never look the same, so I broke up with her.”

You blink at him.  He seems completely unbothered.

“Sebastian!” You exclaim. “You shouldn’t break up with her over that alone.”

Sebastian shrugs. “Y’know, the boys filled in a few of the blanks for me.  Apparently, not very many people actually liked Rebecca and I together, so I guess it was impending anyways.”

You put your hands on your hips. “I cannot believe you broke up with your girlfriend because Everett Clopton and Andrew Larson told you to.” you shake your head. “She was your emergency contact, Sebastian.  You’ve probably been dating a while.”

“According to Clopton, I was planning on breaking up with her soon anyways.”

“Idiots, the lot of you.” You tut, washing your hands in the basin.

“We’d only been dating three months.” Sebastian interjects. “I put her as my emergency contact because I had no one else.  Ominis and Anne…well, they weren’t talking to me apparently.”

You don’t say anything, letting the water run over your hands.

“I guess I’ve been a real arse the last few years,” Sebastian echoes. “Everett said I hadn’t been quite myself since we…well, you get the gist.”

“Everyone is an arse when they’re eighteen,” you remind him. 

Sebastian snorts. “I’m sure you weren’t.”

“I think I might’ve been.” You chuckle under your breath. “Poppy always said I had a one track mind.  Only ever thought about myself, my career.”

“Well, it’s done a lot for you.” Sebastian offers. “Youngest lead healer in St. Mungo’s history.”

You roll your eyes. “The others think I’m a show off.”

“You’re gifted,” he shrugs, and a slice of gauze slips from his chest. “That’s all.”

“Lay back darling,” you advise him, stuffing a pillow behind his back to keep him comfortable. 

Sebastian does as you say, his hands balled up in fists at his side. “So, your fiance,” He trails off. “What’s he like?”

You purse your lips, pulling his sheets over his waist. “He’s nice.”

“Nice.  That’s it?” Sebastian snorts. “Surely he has some better attributes, you said yes to marrying him.”

“He’s calm, quiet.” you say, turning your back to put away the excess gauze. “He’s a junior secretary for the Minister of Magic.” turning back to Sebastian, you already know he has a smug smile on his face. “Don’t you dare say what I think you’re going to say,” you warn, wagging a finger.

“What?” Sebastian scoffs. “I would never say anything about an esteemed junior secretary,” he says dramatically. “Besides, you’re the one who thought it…”

“I didn’t think anything!” You laugh. “I just knew exactly what you were thinking.”

“And what is that?” Sebastian asks coyly.

“You were going to call him a pencil pusher,” you accuse.

Sebastian fakes a gasp, holding a hand to his chest. “My stars, I would never say such a thing.” 

“Stop it,” you laugh again, slapping his hand. “You’re ruining my hard work. I’ll have to do it again.”

“No,” Sebastian groans. “It’s cold.  I just want to put a jumper on, I don’t care about the scars.” he pouts.

“I need you to get better,” you hold your hands on your hips. “The auror office will have my head if I keep you here any longer when your colleagues are back home.”

Sebastian fumbles with the edge of the blanket. “And what would consider me healed?” 

“Well, I’d say besides the appearance, your physical wounds are fully healed.” You shrug. “But we can’t discharge you until your memories are back–or at least substantially returned.”

Sebastian is quiet, and he stays quiet until you finish putting away all your supplies.  You’re about to leave him, implore him to get some rest, when he clears his throat.

“Pet,” he says cautiously (he hasn’t used your old nickname since the second night of his stay).  

“Yes, Sebastian?” You ask, slipping your hands into the pocket of your apron.  When you look at Sebastian from the doorway, he doesn’t look like a twenty three year old man.  He looks like the Sebastian you used to know–the hotheaded eighteen year old who only ever got shy around you.

“Would you…could we be friends after this?” He asked lowly. “I know you said we haven’t seen each other in five years, and I know there’s some blame there on my end. But we’ve been through so much together, and you’ve saved my life.” he rambles. 

You once told yourself that if Sebastian Sallow ever came crawling back, you’d slam the door shut in his face.  The first year of your separation had been excruciating; the second had been dreadful.  Once you’d gotten on to your third year without him in your life, the pain had become bearable.  And once you’d gotten on to four years without him, you realized you didn’t think of him anymore.  In fact, you hadn’t thought of him at all until you saw him standing a few paces away from your tea table.

“Of course, darling.” You assure him. “Only if you promise me that you’ll actually sleep.”

Sebastian’s face lights up in a way you distinctly remember–the first time you’d seen it was when you arrived in Feldcroft to meet Anne when you were both fifteen.  He adjusts himself to the pillows as you wave your wand to dim the lights. 

You shut the door behind you, letting out a sigh when you’re out of sight.  You feel guilty calling Sebastian darling again–you’ve never even blessed your own fiance with his own nickname.  And despite your refusal of the situation, you can’t help the shiver you feel at the base of your spine when you hear Sebastian calling you pet again.

Perhaps being friends is not a good idea.

Night Five

Sebastian is asleep when your shift starts, and you nearly skip over his room.  But against your better judgment, you push into the door, knocking lightly.

The brunette man is slumped over, snoring lightly as if he were waiting for you.  At the sound of the door, he jolts, rubbing his eyes. 

“Why can’t you be on the day shift?” he complains sleepily. 

You chuckle. “I can leave you, let you get some rest.”

“No,” Sebastian clears his throat. “I’d like you to stay.” He shrugs off his shirt, proudly displaying his scars. “They still look like hell, but at least they aren’t purple anymore.”

You stride over, running your hands over them.  Your ancient magic was able to overpower the bleeding curse, but Sebastian will forever have a dip in his chest and bubbled over scars.  They’re at least turning pink, a much better place than they were a few days ago.

“They look great,” you pat his shoulder. “And once we get your memories back in order, we can get you home.”

Sebastian gives you a strange look. “Ominis came again during the day…filling in the blanks again.”

“And?” You ask softly, sitting in the chair next to him.

“Why did we break up?” Sebastian asks firmly. “Can you tell me? And don’t give me the whole spiel about us growing apart.  I want the details.”

You swallow thickly, looking down at your hands. “We were eighteen, Sebastian. I was careless, you were lonely, we were both focused on our careers and not on each other.” Truthfully, you had spent years thinking of the many ways you’d address this conversation, how you’d confront him if you ever saw him again. Now five years later and after having almost witnessed Sebastian’s death, the downfall of your first love is easily compounded into one simple sentence.

“You started working the night shift,” Sebastian says.

“I started working the night shift,” you echo. “I wanted to rise up quickly in the ranks, so I volunteered. I was working so many hours, and you were gone during the day at your job, so we barely saw each other.”

“I asked you to take time off.” Sebastian adds.

“And I said no.” you admit. “I told you that you were being insecure.  That my job was more important, because I was saving lives.” It’s one of the few shames you’ve compartmentalized over the past few years–that you’d ever downplayed the importance of his career compared to yours.

“I went out that night.” Sebastian whispers, looking at his hands. “And I didn’t come home until the morning.”

“It was my only night off of the week, and you came home at four in the morning, stinking of firewhiskey and perfume.” Your eyes shut, replaying the awful scene in your head.

“Did I?” he croaked. “Did I cheat on you, really?”

“No,” You shake your head, and he lets out a relieved sigh. “You said you could have.  You said you wanted to.” You add, rubbing the temples of your forehead. “That you were tired of living in half of a relationship, and that you’d wanted to kiss that girl.”

“You threw the book at me,” Sebastian says weakly. “And I smashed your mug.”

“I told you to go to her if you really wanted.” You admit. “And you left.”

“I stayed at Ominis’s that night.” he whispered. “I didn’t go to her.”

“I didn’t know that.  So I packed my things and left.” 

The silence hangs between the two of you, and all of the feelings you had at eighteen come flooding back.  After the fight, you apparated to Natty’s place, while Anne and Poppy had cleaned out your bits in the apartment. What was meant to be a one night stay turned into a week, and then more. After a month without word from Sebastian, you committed to the night shift, forsaking your friendships and social life for work.  Days turned into weeks, weeks to months, and before you knew it, you were promoted.  Sebastian Sallow was a blip in your timeline, a faded memory of teenage love.  He’d been just a memory until you saw him in Diagon Alley.  Your heart hadn’t felt anything but anger towards him until you saw his shiny black dress shoes.

“Did we throw it all away?” Sebastian asks sorrowfully.

“We became the people we needed to be.” You remind him. “Look at you, an auror.  A damn good one.  The kind that jumps in front of their partner to save them from a curse.” you assure him.

“And you’re a healer,” Sebastian inhales. “A bloody amazing one, that saved my life and five others.  I’m so proud of you.” Sebastian’s lower lip wobbles, and you know your heart is in danger.

“You seem to remember quite a bit,” You point out. “More than you let on.”

“I was talking to Clopton about you.  We thought the ambush was over, we were trying to get to a floo point so we could get Larson’s leg checked out.” Sebastian says. “I told him how beautiful you looked, and that you looked happy.” his voice cracks. 

“Sebastian.” It’s not a warning, just a statement.  A week ago you would’ve never said his name aloud, let alone thought of it.  But it feels right rolling off your tongue.

“Everett said something about you being engaged.  It’s…it’s fuzzy from there on, but I remember the fight.  And I jumped in front of him, but not just to save him.” Sebastian says, his fingers drumming on his stomach.

“Why?” You almost don’t want to hear the rest. It might upend your life entirely.

“I jumped in front of him because I knew I’d be okay.  That you would probably be at St. Mungo’s when I got there.” Sebastian said weakly.  “And I’d get a chance to see you again.”

“Sebastian, we’re different people now.” You remind him. 

“We’re better now.” Sebastian says, giving you pleading eyes. “I was an idiot when I was eighteen; I thought I was being a man, but I wasn’t.  And I’m not going to pretend that I’ve been happy the past five years–there hasn’t been another woman who’s made me feel the way you do.” he confesses.

“It’s been too long,” you try to say, but you know it's no use trying to argue with him.  From your first fight in the Undercroft at fifteen to the fight that broke you two up, Sebastian has never backed down.

Before you even realize it, Sebastian has reached his hand out, taking yours. He’s rubbing your left ring finger–the one missing your large, ostentatious engagement ring.

“Don’t marry him,” Sebastian croaks. “Please, don’t marry him.”

“Why?” you ask.

“Because I understand you now.” Sebastian says. “I understand you in a way I didn’t when I was younger.  And that’s good–it’s good for us now.  It wasn’t the right time then, but we could try again now.” he pleads.

“Four days ago when you saw me in Diagon Alley, you could barely look at me.” You remind him. “I should have you committed to the memory ward at this point.”

“Four days ago when I saw you, I was sick to my stomach with how happy you looked.” Sebastian admits. “I saw you from a distance, smiling at Larson and Poppy.  I couldn’t look you in the eye after seeing you smile.”

You want to tell Sebastian that your fiance is a good man.  That he loves you, cherishes you, and doesn’t fight with you.  But you can’t help being nostalgic as you hold the hand of your first love, who is currently begging you to end your relationship to risk it all again with him. Whatever strength you’ve mustered together in the last five years is about to break as his big brown eyes implore you to stay.

“Your memory seems back to normal,” you change the subject, standing up quickly.  You tug your hand out from his, smoothing your clammy palms against your apron. “I’ll put you down for discharge in the morning.”

“Don’t,” Sebastian warns. “Don’t run away.”

“You ran away.” You remind him.

“And I regret it, every day.” Sebastian says mournfully. “You were my first love.  You were going to be my only love, and I fucked it up.”

“We both made mistakes, Sebastian.” You say, staring down at your feet. “You need to get some rest.  I’ll leave you be.”

He’s arguing as you step through the door, wringing your hands together.  The thoughts running through your head aren’t right–no, they’re crazy.  Except your feet keep walking towards the ward matron’s desk, gripping the stone top.

“Are you alright, dear?” she asks, frowning.

“I need to go home,” you confess, scribbling what little notes you have onto Sebastian’s chart. “There’s something I have to do.”

Thirty minutes later (your on call replacement is displeased to have been woken up late at night) you’re back in your flat.  Your mind is buzzing as you pace in the bedroom, thinking about the idea gnawing at your brain.

It would be insane.

You haven’t talked in five years.

He’s emotional after having been saved from the brink of death.

He broke up with his girlfriend on the spot, because she wasn’t you.

Sebastian is most well known for his unwavering support and adoration.  At least he was when you were younger.  Sebastian had always been encouraging, cheering you on through crossed wands, battles in the highlands, and even when you got your first job offer from St. Mungo’s. He’d been crazy about you–obsessed with you, even.  The two of you had been the couple of your year when you graduated.  

Sebastian had only ever faltered once, and it ended your relationship.

Don’t marry him.  

The words replay in your mind.  It makes you realize your stomach has flipped more in the last four nights than it has in years.  That your even tempered fiance, a kind but boring man, has not once made you feel what you’ve felt in the past week being back in Sebastian’s presence.

It is insane, you think. But you’d rather take feeling than nothing at all.

Digging through your dresser, you pull out the box holding your engagement ring.  

Night Six

It has been a long, long day.

What time you would have spent sleeping is spent assuring your now ex-fiance that nothing untoward has happened.  That you appreciate his kindness and companionship over the past year, but that you cannot lie to yourself. 

You cannot marry him because you don’t love him as you should.

You prepare for the night shift with a spring in your step, because when you get there, you’re heading straight to Sebastian’s room.  You’re going to tell him what you’ve done, and hope that he’s still feeling just as crazy as you. You pull your hair into its usual bun, wishing you could wear something a little nicer to what will be your reunion.  Sebastian used to love when you wore green; perhaps you’ll buy a green dress the next day you’re off.

When you get to the ward, it’s quieter than usual.  Holding your wand between your teeth again, affixing the white apron, your heart beats out of your chest as you approach room 213.  

This is it.  This is the start of the rest of your life.

You push through the doors of 213, but your breath stutters when you see the empty bed.  It’s stripped of any linens, and all of the flowers and candy boxes Sebastian’s colleagues sent are gone.

“Where is the patient in 213?” you whip around, grabbing the closest orderly.

They give you a curious look. “Discharged this morning–you put it in their paperwork.”

You swallow, and it feels like shards of broken glass are tumbling down your throat. “I…I did.”

“Isn’t today your day off, too?” They tilt their head at you. “Honestly, it feels like your head hasn’t been screwed on at all this week. Might want to take some focus potions, ma’am.”

“Uh, right.” You admit, turning red.  You were so excited at the prospect of seeing Sebastian again, you completely forgot that Fridays were your nights off from the ward. You were rather busy after all, imploding your life. “”Does it say who picked him up?”

They shrug, flipping through the charts again. “He was taken to his home in Diagon Alley by his sister and brother-in-law.”

You curse under your breath as you try to plot a plan.  There’s no way Ominis still lives in the small flat he had when you last saw him, and you have no idea where Sebastian lives.  The ward doesn’t have an address either, so you’re shit out of luck.

Unless…unless you were to find one of his loyal partners.

Apparition is frowned upon inside of St. Mungo’s, but you’ll take a scolding from the matron ward on Saturday. You immediately apparate to the Leaky Cauldron, where most of the ministry’s aurors spend their evenings.  You know this because you’ve been avoiding the biggest pub in Diagon Alley for five years, hoping not to run into your ex.

The crowd stares at you in your St. Mungo’s uniform; you push through throngs of ministry employees, all wearing fine suits and dresses from their day jobs.  Your eyes scan the room, heart losing hope by the second, until you spot Everett and Andrew sitting with a gaggle of your classmates from Hogwarts, Natsai Onai included.  Andrew elbows Everett at the sight of you, and Clopton beams as if he’s won a bet.

“Hi,” you say breathlessly, approaching the group. 

“Figured you might turn up.” Larson teased. “Gaunt, Clopton, and I had a bet on how long it would take.”

“What’s going on?” Natty asks, clearly confused. She says your name, tilting her head. 

“I need his address,” You gasp. “He wasn’t at the ward when I got there–”

“Anne and Ominis picked him up this morning.” Everett says, pulling out his wand and a paper napkin.  He aimed his wand at the scrap, delicately burning an address into the paper. “He doesn’t live far from here. Perhaps you’ll keep him from spending too much time at the pub now.”

“Who doesn’t live far?” Natty asks again, elbowing Andrew.

“Sallow, of course.” Larson winks. “You two had enough time to talk it through, yeah?”

“What the bloody hell–they haven’t spoken in five years,” Natty claims with wide eyes. She gives you a look, and you can’t do anything but shrug.

“Near death experiences will change you,” Everett says smugly, taking a sip of his tankard. “Well go on then, what are you still doing here?”

You mouth an apology to Natty; you’ll have to explain it to her someday soon.  For now, you’re pushing through the crowd, trying to get out the door.  Looking down at the napkin, Everett Clopton is right; Sebastian lives maybe a stone's throw away from the pub.  Your feet are pounding on the cobblestone of Diagon Alley, looking like a blue wisp to any passersby.  

Before you know it, you’re turning onto his street, with only the lamps in front of each door illuminating the numbers.  You stop, gasping for air, trying to find the right one.  Of course he’s at the end of the row, a dark green door with a gold knocker.  It’s late now, the sky pitch black, as you start pounding.

It takes only thirty seconds for the door to swing open; Anne is standing behind it, looking shocked.

“You’re here,” she breathes.

“I told you she would,” you hear Ominis yell from the inside. “Clopton owes me ten galleons.”

“Can I come in?” you ask.

Anne bites back a smile. “Of course you can.”

You walk into Sebastian’s home; despite having never seen it, it positively reeks of him. There are touches of him all over the house–from the books stacked in the hallways, to the shoes messily kicked in the parlor room.  He has trinkets from his travels on the mantle, and you can see he still leaves his teacups all over the house (something you once fought over–it seems endearing now).  

Ominis is in the sitting room, lounging on a chaise. “Took you long enough.” he says teasingly. “I was rather surprised you abandoned him last night.  He was absolutely bereft when we picked him up in the morning.”

“I didn’t mean to,” you admit sheepishly, digging your toe into the carpet. “I…I just had something I had to do first.”

“A break up and a make up in one day, you’re a busy woman as always.”

“Shut up.”

Ominis gives you a toothy grin; something he saves only for those he loves. “I missed you.” he stood, pulling you into a tight hug. “I can only hope Sebastian doesn’t bungle it all up and we lose you all over again.”

You press your nose into Ominis’s shoulder; it seems silly you ever thought you could live without this group of people in your life. 

“I thought you were mad at him,” you say, pulling back to look up at the blond.

“I was mad that he was being stubborn,” Ominis says softly. “That he wasn’t being himself, drinking every day and dating girls who weren’t right for him.  I told him he had to pluck up the courage to speak to you again, or get over it and make peace with his life.  He’s been rather stuck, as you can imagine.”

You have been too, you think.

“Is he upstairs?” You ask, turning to the slim staircase. Anne is standing next to the railing, giving a signature Sallow smirk.

“He might be asleep,” Ominis warned. “But he is. First room to the left.”

You squeeze his hand in thanks before walking up the stairs.  The floor creaks underneath you as you push in the door; Sebastian is laying in his bed, sleeping fitfully. You nearly knock a stack of books over as you kneel next to his bed; you also recognize the book on his side table, the spine dented from when you threw it at his face five years ago. It reminds you of the shattered mug you keep on your desk.  Perhaps you two have been subconsciously keeping pieces of each other around.

Sebastian stirs as you brush his brunette hair out of his face.  He opens one eye, then the other, blinking furiously as he tries to sit up.

“You’re here,” he groans, a hand flying to his torso. “Is this a good visit, or just a hospital house call? Because my scars are killing me now that I’m home.”

You give a watery chuckle. “It can be both, if you like.”  You pull the blanket aside, examining his puckered skin.  The scars will stay for good, but that’s fine.  You did always like it when Sebastian was roughed up anyways.

“You’re here.” Sebastian repeats, only this time it's softer.

“I had to go to the Leaky Cauldron to get your address from Clopton.” you admit, blue waves emitting from your fingertips as you try to take away some of the physical pain. “But yes, I’m here.”

“By the sound of our last conversation, I thought you were done.  That we were just going to have to live with our mistakes.” Sebastian breathes.

“I wanted to say more, but there was something I had to do first.” you sit on the bed; Sebastian adjusts to give you more room, taking your hands in his. “I had to give back the engagement ring.”

“You did?” Sebastian asks hopefully.

“Seeing you…being around you for the first time in five years…” You’re trying to compound all of your feelings in a simple sentence, but it doesn’t feel like enough. “It made me realize I just didn’t love him.” You confess. “I shouldn’t feel the way I’ve felt seeing you.”

“Pet,” he murmurs, putting a hand to your cheek. “You’ve saved my life. I can’t ask anything more from you.”

“Then can I?” You ask, feeling the tears welling up in your eyes as you place your hand over his. Sebastian’s hand is warm and familiar, fitting perfectly against you.

“Ask me anything,” Sebastian echoes.

“Let’s try again.” you whisper.  

Sebastian scoots over, making space on the bed for you.  You don’t care if anyone else has slept in it over the five years you’ve been apart; something about the way Sebastian melts against your touch tells you he’s only ever belonged to you in the first place. 

“Let’s try again.” Sebastian whispers in your ear, pressing a kiss to your lips.  It feels positively electric, like it’s awoken something that’s been dormant inside you for five long, sleepy years.  You take good care not to press too much of your weight onto a still recovering patient, but Sebastian does everything in his power to draw you closer.  His hands start pulling pins out of your hair, the tight bun coming unraveled as he weaves his fingers through your tresses.

“You’re still healing,” you remind him as he starts working on the buttons of your dress. “And your sister is downstairs.”

“I don’t care,” Sebastian murmurs into your skin, tugging your collar down to press a kiss at the base of your neck. “We’ve waited long enough, haven’t we?”

You have, you think.  So you let Sebastian ravish you with kisses, blushing when you hear Ominis loudly call up the stairs that he and Anne are leaving.  You only leave the bed to unlace your dress, Sebastian eagerly watching as you strip the fabric from your body.  He groans in a good way when you press kisses to his chest, fingers dancing across the scars on his chest.  Not all scars would disappear, and there would always be reminders of the past.  But it was good to acknowledge them, to know that they were there, and that they were healed.  

The two of you stay awake the entire night reacquainting yourselves with each other’s body; the sun is streaming through Sebastian’s curtains when you realize you’ve been awake since Thursday night, running off adrenaline. Your eyes begin to droop as Sebastian presses a kiss to the top of your head.

“Go to sleep, pet.” he whispers. “I’m right here.”

You’ll have to call in again, you think. You need an entire day of sleep after this week.  And the next time you get to the ward, you’ll turn in your official notice, asking to move to the day shift.

[matchavellichor]

hello !! This idea is a bit basic, but I was wondering if you could write an ominis x fmc fic where the mc is coddling an animal with all sorts of affection and ominis, who has a crush on the mc, is jealous. It’s a pretty fluffy request, but perhaps the ending could be a bit suggestive? Anyway, regardless of whether you take this request or not, thank you for all your work! I have had such a struggle finding good ominis pieces lately

A Peculiar Pet

Ominis Gaunt x f!MC - Fluff - 2.2k words

A/N: hiii, ty for the request. this was sooo cute and i had a lot of fun writing it! the ending isn't suggestive and maybe a bit too platonic/unrequited, but i might make a part two if that's something you guys would like (:

Summary: After MC rescues a strange cat on her latest trip to Hogsmeade, her friendship with Ominis becomes strained by his sudden jealousy.

Tags: Friends to Lovers, Fluff, Banter, Unrequited Love, Jealous Ominis, MC is a Cat Person, Ominis is Not

“What the hell is that?”

She scowled, looking up at Sebastian who was staring down at the purring carpet in her lap.

“That is my familiar,” she informed, stroking gently under what—presumably—was supposed to be a chin. “Poor thing was nearly starving to death just outside of the Hog’s Head. I rescued him.”

Sebastian eyed the creature warily. “Are you sure? By the looks of it, you were too late.”

“Oh, shut up, will you?” she wrapped her arms around the cat protectively and it gave a little grunt of approval. “He just needs a bit of a bath. Isn’t that right, Snuggles? My beautiful baby boy, yes, yes you are. Oh, mummy loves you so much—”

“You’ve given birth?” Ominis suddenly emerged beside Sebastian, looking just as appalled.

“Yes. To an abomination,” he grimaced. “Clawed its way out of her womb straight from the depths of Hell.”

“I didn’t ask for the opinion of either of you,” she seethed, standing up abruptly and clutching the mass of fur protectively to her chest. “If you’ll excuse me, Snuggles and I will be finding more pleasant company.”

She stormed past the two and Ominis blinked confusedly after her. Sebastian simply raised his brows.

“What was that all about?”

Sebastian shrugged. “Motherhood, I suppose.”

//

“Is that…normal?”

Ominis clenched his jaw as he listened to her start on what must have been the eighth bedtime story just that evening. She had been planting kisses all over the creature for the past hour, fawning over him and drowning him in all kinds of affection. Snuggles showed little more than a periodical snot-nosed snuffle in appreciation.

Sebastian shrugged, glancing over. “Beats me. Maybe it’s hormones or something.”

“She’s obsessed with it! That can’t be healthy. Shouldn’t we do something?”

Sebastian laughed. “Relax, Ominis. It’s a cat. The thing’s a hundred years old anyway, let her care for the critter while it’s on its last legs.”

“I suppose so,” Ominis relented, still slightly acerbic.

He listened to her voice taper out, words becoming slurred as exhaustion seeped into her. He rose from his seat with a sigh, trying his best to be open-minded about the ordeal.

“Here, let me watch over him,” he said, reaching a hand towards her shoulder to gently rouse her. “You should really get some sleep.”

As soon as his hand touched her, the creature immediately shot up and hissed at him, its abnormally sharp teeth viciously bared. He jerked back in surprise and she blinked awake, shushing the feline with soothing coos. “It’s alright, Snuggles, he’s a friend.”

The furball from Hell did not look convinced.

“I’m fine, Ominis,” she murmured through a yawn, sitting up to stretch. “He’s had a fever all day, I have to keep an eye on him.”

“You have to keep an eye on yourself,” he grumbled.

“I’m fine,” she insisted, already beginning her coddling again. “And you will be too, won’t you, angel? Yes, you will! Mummy will make sure of it.”

Ominis heaved a long-suffering sigh and retreated back to his armchair. Sebastian eyed the defeated expression on the blonde’s face for a moment, looking starkly amused.

//

That following weekend, Ominis retreated to the common room for his usual plans of afternoon reading, hoping that this time she wouldn’t bail on him like she’d been doing all week.

“Oh, my, look at you! Aren’t you handsome?”

He froze at the bottom of the stairs, hand gripping the railing. He was suddenly aware of an unbidden heat rising to his cheeks. “I’m–I’m sorry?”

“Oh, yes you are,” she cooed, ignoring him. “My precious boy.”

Ominis frowned, shoulders sinking at the realization of who she was actually speaking to. He tried to suppress his sour mood as best as he could as he stalked past her towards his usual seat in front of the fireplace.

He opened his book and lasted about two pages before the sounds of her fawning over the little monster ground his patience down to the bones.

“Do you mind?” he bit out tersely. “I’m allergic,” he lied.

“I’m not even near you.”

That’s precisely the problem, he wanted to say, bitter about how distanced she’d been ever since she’d brought the creature home. As woe as Ominis was to admit he was jealous of a cat, it was hard not to be when he’d seemingly been completely replaced.

Before, he had been her reading partner. They’d share one of the loveseats in an isolated corner of the common room and trade tidbits of whatever novel they were consumed in. Now, his spot was occupied by the matted ball of fur she called her baby.

He shut his book abruptly, not even bothering to conceal his sneer. “Must you spend every waking minute with that thing?”

She glanced up at him, surprised by his sudden hostility. “What’s the matter with you, Ominis?”

“What’s the matter with me? You’re the one obsessing over a cat. It’s ridiculous.”

“He needs me. Must you be so inconsiderate?”

Ominis’ fists clenched in frustration at his sides. “Well, he isn’t the only one who needs you!”

There was a long silence in which she stared at him perplexed. “What is that supposed to mean?”

He reddened, staring down at his shoes. “I…just mean that you’re…that…”

“Go on,” she spat, tone lacking all patience. “Say what you mean.”

He glanced up sharply. “You’re neglecting all of your friends to care for that dreadful monster.”

She gasped, covering what was presumably the furball’s ears, but looked more like shriveled horns covered in hair. “Well, maybe it’s because I can’t bear to be around friends who are all so heartless.”

Ominis looked like she might as well have slapped him.

She stormed off with the cat in her arms for the second time that week, leaving Ominis to contemplate with an admittedly inappropriate sense of possessiveness when he’d ever get her back for himself.

//

Following their fight, Ominis had resigned himself to wallowing over the tattered remains of their friendship for the next few days when his melancholic reverie was shattered by a Gryffindor storming into the Slytherin common room.

Sebastian glanced up, looking as appalled as he would if a ten-foot troll had broken in. “How did you get in here?”

Garreth snorted. “It’s not like you lot are particularly creative with your passwords. Aspiration, really? What’s next, cunning?”

“That was last month’s…” Sebastian sighed under his breath, sounding defeated.

She appeared making her way down the common room steps a few moments later, pointedly ignoring Sebastian and Ominis’ presence and presenting Garreth with the feral throw-rug.

“Godric’s saggy bollocks, where the hell did you get that?” Garreth shrieked, nearly dropping all the Potions supplies in his hands.

She scowled. “Don’t tell me you lack all empathy as well, Weasley.”

He blinked at the creature in her arms warily. “I thought you said you needed a fever relief potion for a cat.”

“I do,” she frowned. “Snuffles has been sick all week.”

“That is not a cat.”

“Told you,” Sebastian muttered from his place beside Ominis, eliciting a swat to his arm.

Her tone immediately grew tense with defensive indignation. “So what if he’s a bit…unconventional looking? That doesn’t make him any less deserving of love and affection!”

“No, you misunderstand me,” Garreth said gravely, eyes still wide. He stalked towards her slowly with his hands outstretched, as if she were holding a grenade with its pin pulled out. “That is not a cat. That… is a bloody manticore.”

Ominis blanched. Sebastian dropped all pretenses of feigning he wasn’t eavesdropping and burst out laughing. “Oh, Merlin, that’s just too good.”

Her face fell. “What?”

She glanced down at Snuggles perched happily in her arms, brows furrowed as she studied him more intently.

“Oh dear Circe, put it down!” Garreth gasped when the creature moved, stretching lazily. It seemed hardly phased by the commotion around it. “You’re lucky it’s only a few weeks old and its poison glands haven’t matured yet. Although, even this young its bite is still strong enough to cut clean through bone.”

She seemed hardly deterred by the revelation. Cautiously, she pulled back the matted fur covering its head and gasped when an infantile, almost human-looking face was revealed. One thing was certain, it was positively not a cat.

Snuggles blinked back lazily at her, still purring while he rubbed himself affectionately on her arm. She frowned and glanced up at her friends, looking starkly heartbroken.

“I…I suppose…you all were right.”

Something in Ominis’ chest seized at how defeated she sounded.

She stared tearfully down at the manticore in her arms. “I’m sorry, Snuffles.”

“Let’s get it to Professor Howin,” Garreth spoke up, attempting to place a comforting hand on her shoulder, though he looked too wary of Snuffles to actually touch her. “She’ll know what to do.”

She nodded reluctantly.

//

Professor Howin contacted the Ministry and successfully turned in the manticore to magizoologists by the following morning.

Despite Howin’s repeated insistence that it was the safest option for Snuggles, its departure was no easy cross to bear for its former guardian.

Nearly a week later she was still mourning its loss as if her own kin had been ripped away from her. She was utterly inconsolable, and after walking in on her crying quietly in the late hours of the evening far too many times, Ominis decided he couldn’t bear her grief any longer.

The following day, he devised a plan. Come evening, he approached her usual lonely spot tucked away in the Undercroft, his hands tucked surreptitiously behind his robes.

She glanced up and frowned. “Are you here to rub it in?”

He sighed. “Of course not. I’m here to see if you’re alright.”

She sniffled, eyes lighting up. “Are you really?”

He nodded, kneeling down beside her. “I feel guilty for being so inconsiderate,” he said. “It’s silly to admit but…I suppose I just felt a little left out.”

She giggled then, the last vestiges of sadness steadily dissipating from her voice. “You’re lying.”

He shook his head, looking conflicted as if he were contemplating actually coming clean about how he had felt. He let out a long-suffering groan. “Oh gods, it’s humiliating. I was jealous of a cat—or well, what I thought was a cat, at least.”

She grinned, looking amused. “Oh, I understand. It’s because I didn’t give you belly rubs as well, is that it?”

He rolled his eyes, biting back his own smile. “No, no. It was the lack of bedtime stories that really stung.”

She laughed then, and the sound warmed him to his very core, reminding him of hot tea and the warmth of a fireplace with a good book curled in his lap.

He was broken out of his admiration by a jostling in his hands. He cleared his throat, remembering that an apology wasn’t the only thing he had met her there for.

“I…have something for you.”

She looked at him expectantly and he carefully untucked a small box from behind his robes, various holes cut around the sides. As soon as he held it in his lap, the box gave another little jolt. She looked at it bewildered.

He took a deep breath as he slipped off the lid, and the first tiny meow escaped. She gasped in delight, eyes glittering with disbelief as she stared down at the little animal.

“Is that…”

He nodded. “She’s yours.”

“Oh, Ominis!”

He was nearly toppled over by the force of which she threw her arms around him, squeezing him so tightly he could barely breathe. His hands found her waist to brace himself, his thumb brushing softly under her ribs as he reciprocated her embrace.

“Thank you, thank you, thank you,” she gushed, peppering his face with kisses. He flushed so red he was surely the same color of the little ginger kitten in his lap by the time she stopped her attack.

“Don’t…don’t mention it,” he laughed sheepishly, voice sounding terribly dazed.

The kitten gave a petulant little mewl and she finally detached herself, pulling back with a departing peck to his cheek. She picked up the cat, pressing a soft kiss under its scruffy chin and acquiescing its whines.

“Oh, aren’t you just so precious?” she cooed. “Your mummy and daddy will take such good care of you— oh yes, yes we will!”

Ominis managed to flush even more. “Oh, am I included in this now?”

“Well, of course. You rescued her, after all,” she smiled brightly, suddenly entwining her fingers with his. “We’ll care for her together.”

Ominis felt that warm sensation bloom in his chest again at the feeling of her hand in his. He stroked his thumb over her knuckles reverently, unsure of what to do with so much permission to touch her. The contact was so tender, his heart felt like it might just burst out of his chest.

As if it could sense his acceptance, the kitten suddenly jumped from its place in the crook of her arm onto Ominis’ shoulder, purring contentedly in his ear and rubbing itself against his neck.

She gasped. “Oh, look, she likes you!”

Ominis couldn’t help the smile pulling at his lips, bringing a hand to pet tentatively at the small thing. The kitten leaned into his touch, preening under his affection as he rubbed an index against its soft underbelly.

“Yes,” he said softly, squeezing her hand, still tucked snugly in his. “I suppose she does."

[imagrindylow]

Hi (Amit request here again hehe ) but if you’re comfortable with doing like short stuff or like headcanons could you do like the HLC reactions to you petting their hair like they’re just doing some thing or talking while sitting beside MC and theyre like zoned out a bit (MC is ) and decides to just start playing with their hair plz and thanks 😁

Hi again!! Thank you for this! I went with a little drabble of a fic for each of the guys, having each of them react to a different situation where they were frustrated and MC comforts them by petting their hair. This was fun! Hope you enjoy :)

Sebastian, Leander, Ominis, Garreth & Amit react to MC comforting them by stroking their hair.

Sebastian Sallow: The two of you were in the library where you’d spent many late evenings together, both of you reading through thick and dusty books, still in the endless search of anything that might lead to a cure for Anne. Your eyes were tired, your mind was tired, and if you felt like this, you couldn’t imagine how Sebastian must be feeling.

Closing the last book in the stack he’d combed through tonight, Sebastian let his head fall forward to the table in frustration, forehead pressed to the leather cover of the book. He thumped his head against the book a few times with a low growl of a sigh slipping through his lips in exasperation. No amount of time spent searching had brought you anywhere closer to an answer. You reached a hand out towards him, your fingers running over his hair slowly, again and again. He turned his head towards you, still resting it against the book, his other cheek laying against the cover. You remind him that he isn’t alone in this and that feeling is everything to him. He gives you a half smile and the most subtle nod, and he thanks you quietly. When he collects himself and sits back up, he leans in and kisses your cheek, making plans to meet back up tomorrow at the same time to keep on searching.

Leander Prewett: He was sitting outside in the clock tower courtyard after a rough round of crossed wands, in which he had gotten beaten quite badly – yet again – by Sebastian Sallow. You noticed him from across the way, looking worse for wear. You crossed the yard and sat beside him, offering to let him vent his frustrations on you, as he really looked like he needed someone to listen. He immediately took you up on your offer and started talking your ear off about the mistakes he thought he made in his spell combinations, and what he could have done differently that he didn’t see in the moment. He was clearly taking the loss hard. You got the feeling that he could use more than a listening ear, he was rather quite worked up, berating himself with self depreciating jokes that were getting progressively worse. You wrapped an arm around his back and pulled him in towards you, guiding his head to rest on your shoulder with your fingers in his hair. His immediate reaction was confusion and he stopped speaking when you continued gently running your fingers through the hair at the back of his neck. He took a deep breath before relaxing into your touch and resuming chatting with you, giving you a sweet smile and changing the topic to something sweeter. He was suddenly not feeling quite so down on his luck. He was truly appreciative of the gesture, and that you cared enough about him to want to calm him. Ominis Gaunt: You were awake in the common room reading late one night when Ominis emerged from the dorms and made his way silently through the room and sat on the sofa near the fireplace. You knew he had frequent nightmares, but hadn’t ever been awake yourself to see him still taken in the panic of whatever he had just been through in his sleep, until tonight

He didn’t know you were awake too, and you startled him further when you moved to sit beside him. You apologized, and he nodded, his body language stiff, and closed off. He didn’t say anything when you asked if he wanted to talk about it. Maybe the silence of your company was enough to help?

When you saw tear run down his cheek, your heart ached. This sweet boy did not deserve to feel like this, it was unfair. You wasted no time in trying to comfort him, brushing his tears away with your thumb before letting you hand slip back and into his hair and massaging his head softly. It only makes him tear up more, physical comfort like this was not something he was used to, but he loves it. He turns to you and wraps you in his arms, letting you carry on petting his hair. When he calms down and eventually heads back to sleep it’s you he’s dreaming of now. Garreth Weasley: The two of you were serving detention together. This evening’s task was writing lines. 12 inches of parchment, both sides, “I will respect the value of potions ingredients” to be written in fine, neat calligraphy. The two of you sat together at a desk in the detention chamber, supervised by Professor Sharp.

You each pulled your parchment, ink, and a quill from your respective satchels and got to work writing as quickly and neatly as you could. You finished just a few moments before Garreth, and watched him write the last line onto the page. The two of you got up together, to hand your lines in, Sharp looking over your parchment first, and giving you an approving nod. When he looked over Garreth’s parchment, he looked disgusted, the two of you watched in disbelief as the lines started to vanish from the parchment, slowly but surely. He had accidentally grabbed his bottle of Zonko’s Vanishing Ink from his bag rather than his standard ink. Sharp chose to be cruel, and insisted Garreth start the punishment over.

He sat back down, so furious with himself for his careless error. You sat back down beside him, which in and of itself shocked him, you were free to go about your evening! With a huff he slammed the correct ink bottle down on the table an muttered under his breath while starting his lines over, his hand shaking in anger. You stilled his hand with yours and brought your hand to his hair, combing the curls back and out of his face. You promised to wait for him, you’d gotten in trouble together after all. He leaned into your touch, suddenly this wasn’t the worst punishment. He finished writing quickly, hoping to spend more time with you and get your hands back into his hair. Amit Thakkar: He had spent the better part of his evening studying for an exam that he had the follow day after lunch. He carefully went over his text book chapter by chapter, reviewing all of the material that he knew would be on the test. He ended up falling asleep studying, his book in his lap and papers strewn on his bed, slumped back against his headboard.

When he woke up in the morning, he took a last scan over his notes and felt good about the exam this afternoon. As he got his books and parchments in order, he noticed an assignment due this morning that he had totally forgotten about in the midst of his exam prep. This was terrible! He had no time to complete it now, and receiving a failing grade on the assignment would surely bring down his grade overall in the class.

You knew something was wrong when he didn’t greet you first period when you sat beside him. When the professor came round to collect the assignments, you were shocked when Amit had nothing to turn in. His head was buried in his hands. You stroked his hair gently, whispering to him that he was more than just his grade in a class. He gave you a soft smile, but the disappointment was still clear on his face. Though he appreciated your efforts, and as much as he loved your affection, he was still going to beat himself up over this. He brushed your hand away gently, he wasn't going to let himself get further behind by letting you distract him.

[enweasley]

Restricted Section ; Finn Weasley x Sallow!Reader

AN: HII! So I haven't seen this being done much (or even at all but I barely looked) where people would write fanfics of their own characters in Hogwarts Legacy, so I decided to do so! Quick introduction to the character:

This is Finn Weasley; He's in Gryffindor and has a very loyal but mischievous personality. He's also pansexual! He LOVES herbology but he loves solving mysteries and exploring secrets even more - even if it's super dangerous. However, he will go to any extent to keep others out of danger (ironically). Finn can be really harsh to people if someone hurts him or the people he cares about. He's not perfect, though, he has some flaws. He does have a short temper and can say pretty horrible things without meaning to. He can also be quite reckless and finds it hard to accept other people's love and care, leading him to forget to keep himself from getting hurt.

That's all for now, but I'll probably add more to his story as time goes by!

(Please excuse any grammar mistakes, I'm trilingual and grammar from 3 languages can mix me up a lot C:)

--

Summary: The new student needs your help sneaking into the restricted section for something 'very important'. However, he doesn't expect you to cover for him when you get caught.

Warnings: Swearing, small panic attack, gets a little heated at the end. Kinda cheesy but we love that :)

Reader's gender is never specified!

--

"Excuse me! Y/n Sallow, right?" Interrupted from your game of wizard's chess alone, you turn around to be met with a pretty tall red-head. You couldn't help but think about how gorgeous he is, but you swallow your excitement.

"Yeah, that's me. You're the new kid aren't you?" You disenchant your chess game and give him your full attention. "I watched your duel with Sebastian in the Clock Tower, you're really good!"

Finn seems to flush at your compliment. During his short time starting in 5th year here in Hogwarts he's gotten plenty compliments on how he's been able to learn and execute spells so quickly, but for some reason your compliment had a special affect on him.

He chuckles lightly. "Thank you, I'm just trying to catch up quickly." He couldn't seem to keep his eyes from wandering over your features. "It's Finn, by the way. Finn Weasley."

"Oh, another Weasley! Well it's lovely to meet you! Did you need anything?" You ask politely.

Finn almost forgot why he was talking to you in the first place, but managed to remember before already humiliating himself in front of you. "Right, yes. This may sound quite forward, but Sebastian told me you're really good at sneaking around. Is there a chance you can help me sneak into the restricted section of the library tonight? I can't say why, but it's very important."

You were a bit surprised at his request, but kind of prideful that you were the first person he was led to for it. You smiled widely. "Of course! I'm surprised my brother didn't take you himself. Meet me at the grand staircase at 9. Don't be late!"

"Wait- Don't you wanna know more about why I need to sneak in?" He asked perplexed.

"Nope. I'll take any opportunity for sneaking around. Either way, you don't seem the type to burn down the castle or anything. Plus, you said you can't say why you need to sneak in."

He mentally facepalmed himself. How could he forget he just said that? Maybe he just wanted to talk to you longer. "I'll see you at 9!" You smile at him and walk away.

You take a long breath after turning away from him. Holy shit he's cute.

-

You're both crouched at the railing of the stairs looking down onto the central hall at exactly 9pm, analysing the prefects walking around and guarding the doors of the library.

"Okay," you whisper. "First of all, we need to go invisible. Have you learnt the disillusionment spell?"

Finn looks at you like a lost puppy, his head slightly titled. You almost had to tell him how cute he looked, but held back.

You pull your wand out and whisp it over your head and body. The wand leaves a blue trail of light before all there was left was your aura.

You continue whispering to the lost boy in front of you. "This is the disillusionment spell. It doesn't turn you completely invisible but it's better than being completely exposed."

You point to his hand holding his wand. "May I?" He nods hesitantly.

You slowly hold his fist clenching onto his wand and do the same movement you did on yourself over him. Finn could barely focus, the feeling of your soft hand on his summoning an army of butterflies in his stomach. You couldn't help but feel the same tingle in your stomach too.

Clearing your throat, you speak. "That's the movement for the spell. Just think of it and do the movement."

He did as you said, and suddenly you were both just two ghosts staring at each other's remains.

Finn chuckles enthusiastically. "This is awesome!" He whisper yells.

You laugh at his excitement, wishing you could see his freckled face through the spell.

"Okay, let's go. Stick close to me." You begin to sneak down the stairs, through the hall, and quickly side past the prefect turned away from the library door. You can feel Finn following closely behind.

After you both get into a safer corner of the library away from Madam Agnes's sights, you remove the spell off you.

"Here's the plan," you start. "You go get the key from Madam Agnes's desk draw over there, I'll distract her."

Finn nods. As you start to turn away, Finn grabs your arm gently and looks at you with his adorable puppy eyes.

"What if you get caught?" He sounds worried. You can't tell why he'd be worried about you, though.

You give him a cheeky smile. "Me? Get caught? You should worry about yourself, Weasley." He chuckles, shooing away the blush creeping into his cheeks after hearing you call him by his surname. "C'mon, let's go."

As you throw a book across the room, Finn conceals himself and scurries to grab the key. You quickly do the same and meet him at the entrance of the restricted section.

Exposing yourselves from the spell, you watch him unlock the gate before you walk in.

"YES!" Finn cheers, surprising you both with a tight hug. There's a pause before he realises what he's doing and slowly pulls away, taking his warmth away with him. "Sorry... Got excited."

You laugh sweetly at him. "I don't mind." He continues walking down the stairs of the forbidden room, but not before shooting you a relieved smirk.

"Lumos." You cast, making the eery room brighter and less intimidating.

As you squeeze between abandoned bookshelves and over piles of junk, you reach a collapsed set of armour. "Repai-" Finn begins to cast before a loud screech interrupts him.

Almost out of thin air, Peeves flies through the wall in front of you. He almost knocks you down, but Finn's quick reflexes catch you before you hit the ground. You find yourself wrapped in his arms, yours tightly around his neck.

"Shit, are you okay?" Finn asks you breathlessly, his worried eyes glaring into yours.

"Yeah yeah, I'm fine-" But once again you were interrupted by the same squeaky, loud voice of the poltergeist.

"I'M TELLING, I'M TELLING," Peeves squeals mockingly before flying straight upwards towards the main floor of the library.

Your heart squeezes into itself. You've never been caught before, why now? Your uncle is going to kill you if he finds out you were sneaking around the castle, and in the restricted section of all places.

You didn't realise your breath was quickening until you felt arms lowering you onto the floor and rough but warm hands palming each side of your neck.

"Hey, hey. You're alright, sweetheart. Take a breath." You hear Finn's soft voice whisper in your ear. A little voice was in your head screaming How do you expect me to breathe when you're making my heart beat even faster??

You breathe deeply before letting out a small chuckle. "I'm okay. I'm fine. Just go get whatever you need to get. I need to deal with Peeves before he gets us both in trouble."

Finn looks at you as if asking you if you're sure. You just nod and sprint after Peeves, the last thing you hear is a distant "Repairo" before making it back to the library.

"PEEVES YOU STUPID POLTERGEIST." You try catching him, forgetting he's a literal ghost as your arms flail right through him.

"Y/n Sallow." You jump at the voice of Madam Agnes behind you. You slowly turn around while Peeves chuckles menacingly at your head hung low in shame. "And to think I'd get a break from the Sallow siblings, you come running along. Wait until your uncle hears about this."

"No. No no no-" You get interrupted by her. "That's enough. You're a bright student, you should know better than to go sneaking around the restricted section especially after curfew."

"But Madam Agnes-"

"And Peeves here tells me you were with someone else." Peeves twirls and rolls around mid-air, celebrating your punishment. "Please tell me you were forced to come here by someone's hand instead of it being your own choice."

There's a pause. You could never snitch on Finn like that. You only just met him but you know better than to put his record at risk on his first week of school here. This was your own choice anyway, you weren't forced. Finn helped you down there, so you're gonna help him.

"No. I came here all alone." You said in a low but stern voice.

Madam Agnes sighs at your lie, but she knew how stubborn you and your brother were, so she let it slide.

"Detention after classes tomorrow. You're going to sort the books to their respective places until they're all done. It doesn't matter if it takes you all night." Your shoulders slump. "Peeves, escort her to her common room, please."

With a sigh from you and an evil chuckle from the poltergeist, you begin your walk to your common room. At least Finn's in the clear now.

Little did you know, Finn saw the whole thing from behind one of the shelves. He couldn't help but let a grateful smile reach his lips.

--

The next day, Finn runs to the library to find you after his classes. It's already dark out by the time he finishes his extra tasks and from talking to Professor Fig. He doesn't know why he's in such a hurry, but he won't let his confidence escape him just yet.

Once he's in, he find the library to be completely empty, not even Madam Agnes in sight. He hears distant curses and shuffling coming from the second floor and he can only assume the source being your complaining.

As he follows the sounds of frustrated mumbles, he finally finds you at the end of the second floor in a dark corner holding a bunch of books to shelf up. He smiles at the sight of you awkwardly balancing everything in your one hand and walks over to you, taking a pile of books from you.

"Need help there?" He looks at you with a teasing smirk.

You look at him with a grumpy face. "Oh haha, Weasley. I can handle this on my own, thank you very much." You snatch back the books he took from you, instant regret flooding your features as you immediately struggle to balance them.

Finn immediately takes them back from you and effortlessly holds them over his head, extending his arm upwards far from your reach.

"Hey- Hand those back, Weasley." You try hopping to reach the books he so graciously stole from you.

He chuckles at your efforts while you claw up his chest and shoulders, trying to tug down his arm. After a harsh tug, Finn loses balance of the books he's holding and he tries catching them but ends up stumbling forwards.

The books fall to the side as Finn catches himself on the bookshelf, trapping you between it and himself.

You lock eyes with him, your hands clutched tightly onto the thin material of his shirt over his chest. You're both breathing heavily, chests almost touching with every breath.

You can feel Finn hesitate as his hands slowly reach to cup the back of your neck, his thumb over your cheek. No matter how much you willed yourself to, your simply could not take your eyes off him.

"Thank you." He whispers. Your eyebrows furrow.

"For what?"

"For covering for me." His stare snapping between your eyes and lips. "I heard you in the library after we got caught."

"You mean after I caught got?" You tease.

Finn smirks at your remark, his hold on your neck squeezing for a second. "Whatever you say, sweetheart." The nickname melts into your ears and into the rushed beats of your heart.

"Hey, Finn?" The use of his first name makes the blood rush to his cheeks, his breath hitches.

"Yeah?"

"You dropped my books."

"Shut up." Finn lets out in a desperate breath before pulling you into him, his lips roughly but passionately meeting yours.

His other hand shifts from the side of your head to tangle into your hair, tugging it lightly. You let out a little whimper, but that's all it took for Finn to deepen the kiss even more, his tongue slightly grazing yours. Breaths were escaping through your noses, desperate for air but never desperate enough to separate from each other.

Your fingers weave through his long, soft ginger locks. Your other hand clutches desperately onto the collar of his shirt.

You both finally pull away from each other, your hands gliding down to rest on his chest.

"Fuck." Finn leans his forehead on yours, leaning in for another quick peck. His hazel eyes are glazed over, looking into yours like they hold the world. He slowly brushes a strand of your hair behind your hair, memorising your face as you memorise his.

"I was hoping you'd do that." You chuckle breathlessly. Finn laughs with you, his eyes holding nothing but love as they stare into yours. "Oh yeah?" You nod, your nose lightly touching his.

"Now help me with these books, Weasley. You're still responsible for my detention." You playfully push him away and start picking up the books he previously dropped.

"And I'd do it again as long as it ends like this every time." He smiles at you cheekily.

"Do it again and I'm telling Sebastian you used a love potion on me."

And with that he got to work helping you sort the books out.

[fitzs-trained-monkey]

The Blood of the Covenant

Foreword:

(Below) A note presumably written by one Sebastian Sallow, dated 1922.

To whomever may find themselves reading this, I regret to inform you that the pages in your hands may very well be the only documentation in the world detailing the truth concerning The House of Gaunt. This tale you're about to read won't be written in the history books. Alas, as I write this the Ministry and all the rats that didn't go down with the ship are hard at work scrubbing away any and all proof of just how deeply their corruption truly ran. But even if it costs me my freedom, I will not allow my friend's suffering to be forgotten. This time, I'll speak the truth - no matter the cost. And if you, dear reader, are the only soul who ever reads this, so be it. Maybe I'll finally have done something right. - Sebastian Sallow

Continue to Chapter One: First Steps (Toward White-Faced Cliffs)

[blue--ingenue]

Masterlist

Link to my ao3

Scorbus Playlist

Scorbus

One Fell First, And One Fell Harder: Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3

Albus Potter

- Headcannons Part 1

Scorpius Malfoy

Hyperion Headcannon

Sebastian Sallow

- “Evasive Maneuvers” Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7, Part 8 - “My Hero” - (request) "Repentance" - soft!Sebastian headcannons part 1, part 2, part 3, part 4, part 5, part 6, part 7, part 8 - Angsty Sebastian Headcannons part 1 -Sebastian Sallow Christmas Headcannons

Ominis Gaunt

- headcannons {pt. 1}, {pt. 2}, {pt.3}, {pt.4} - Ominis' Son

Hogwarts Legacy Headcannons

pov: morning classes at hogwarts

Red, White, and Royal Blue

"I Will Love You Until My Dying Day" (Moulin Rouge! AU) "The World Watched, and History Waited"

The King's Man

"For King and Country"

[afrenchaugurey]

Hi!

I realize I forgot to post here but I posted chapter 4 of my New Year's fic.

Summary : After a complicated moment, Newt finally mixes with the New Year party.

And the introduction scene

In the centre of the room, a large table sagged under the profusion of drinks, food and cutlery. Soft music came from nowhere, and would have bathed the area with a tender lullaby if it hadn’t been covered by all the other voices and noises. The chanting soapy bubbles had disappeared when Adeline had sat at the table, Evie replacing them by hovering oranges, pinecones and cinnamon sticks –mirrors of the tree’s decorations– that filled their noses with forest smells.

Evie had probably circled the dining space with Fencing Charms , as the dog and the puffskeins herd remained far from the food. The pre-dinner mini-sandwiches trays and drinks replenished automatically as soon as they emptied, offering enough provisions for a whole army.

“Snidget, you’re back! Come, and have a firewhisky!”

Theseus’s face had turned crimson, and Newt didn’t want to know how many glasses he had drunk already. Apparition or flight wouldn’t be an option to come back home for his brother that night; Newt would have to make sure of it.

“Snidget?” asked a woman Newt didn’t recognize, but whose cheeks gleamed as red as Theseus’s.

Her hair was like the plants frozen over the lake, a dark brown surrounded by white, and something in her gaze –traces of a complicated and heavy past, courage, and empowerment– reminded him of Tina.

“That was Newton’s nickname as a child, Sunshine,” Titania whispered in the other witch’s ear, before she wove their fingers and kissed her knuckles.

The woman’s eyes opened wide, and she stared at Newt who intensely looked at the ground.

“Of course! Snidget ! Newt Scamander! How could I have forgotten this!” she exclaimed, “I’m Poppy Sweeting.

Thank you for reading !

[quinnsallow]

Mood board for my mystery/romance story Ethereal || Sebastian Sallow

Healing wounds that time forgot...

[writing-intheundercroft]

Only You - S. Sallow

AO3 Link

Word Count: 5,034

Rating: E (Smut, Oral and Vaginal Sex, NSFW, MDNI)

Summary: You decide to surprise Sebastian with lunch at the auror office.

A/N: I said I'd do a smutty follow up to The Night Shift, and here it is!

“You didn’t have to come, you know.” Sebastian says, gently guiding you into the elevator.

“I wanted to,” you insist. “You’re always supporting everyone around here–someone has to support you.”

Sebastian gives you a soft, shy smile as the door shuts behind you both. He’s been utterly dedicated to helping you get adjusted to your new daytime schedule, his career taking the backseat in your daily conversations.  The two of you were leaving the courtroom, where several surviving ashwinders were just sentenced to life imprisonment in Azkaban. You knew he was nervous about the Wizengamot trial, having to confront the offenders who’d set up a surprise attack for the aurors all those months ago. Sebastian had recovered quite well in the months that followed, but you’d caught him trembling at the thought of sitting in the stands, identifying each one. Trials had always made Sebastian nervous, knowing deep down that Azkaban had almost been his fate, if not for you and Ominis.

You push that memory out of your mind. Sebastian is now an upstanding member of society, a decorated Auror who you’ve just found out is up for promotion thanks to his heroics.

“Dinner, tonight.  You and me.” Sebastian declares, leaning against the wall. “I’ll pick you up straight from the hospital.”

“I’ll be disgusting.” you remind him.  You’d taken a few hours off to attend the trial, and were already dressed in your uniform to go to St. Mungo’s.  You wouldn’t be off until the late hours of the evening, but it didn’t seem like Sebastian cared.

The doors to the elevator opened and you politely stepped to the side, letting the woman who’d entered step into the center.  As the doors shut, she turns to Sebastian, a saucy grin on her face.

“Sebastian Sallow, it’s good to see you.” she says sweetly.

You immediately frown, taking note of her casualness around him.

“Marlene, nice to see you again.” Sebastian is polite and gentlemanly, keeping his eyes glued to her face.  

She steps towards him, completely ignoring you in the elevator with them. “Glad to have that trial over then?” she asks.

Sebastian lets out a puff of air, nodding gratefully. “Very glad.  Was a nightmare to relive the whole situation.” he admits.  His eyes flit over her shoulder to you, but you pay her no mind–she must be a coworker in the auror office.

To your shock, the woman steps forward towards Sebastian, placing a hand on his chest. “I was so sorry to hear about you and Rebecca.  You know, I still haven’t forgotten about that night–”

Steam was about to pour out of your ears, no pepper-up potion needed.  Mortified, Sebastian pushes her hand away, gesturing to you on the other side of the cab.

“Marlene, this is my…” Sebastian trails off.  The two of you hadn’t quite put a label on your relationship yet.  Despite the time that had passed since your reunion, and the fact that you’d all but moved into his tiny flat, you had yet to call him your boyfriend.

The woman jumps back, blushing. “Oh!  I’m so sorry, Tony had said you were unattached at the moment.”

“It’s nice to see you, Marlene.” Sebastian says quickly, grabbing your hand as the door opens to the ground floor. “I’ll see you around the office.”  he quickened his pace, tugging you out from the elevator.

You yank your hand out of his, brushing your now sweaty palms on the front of your dress. 

“So, Marlene.” You seeth. “A friend of yours?”

Sebastian’s face turns scarlet red, scratching at the freckles trailing down his neck. “Come on, now.” he strains. “We both have histories, we know that.  It was five years, we can’t pretend there wasn’t anyone in between.”

You feel guilt pooling in your stomach; Sebastian is right, after all.  Up until a few months ago, you had an entire fiance–someone you were going to marry, raise children with, spend the rest of your life with.  You also couldn’t lie that there had been men before him.  Imelda Reyes had said it best–the only way to get over Sebastian Sallow was to get under someone else. 

“I at least avoided anyone I worked with.” you grumble, crossing your arms.

Sebastian lets out a low sigh. “You’re right.  It wasn’t the smartest move of mine, but I assure you–you’re the only woman for me.” he says gently, his hands finding your hips through your unflattering St. Mungo’s uniform. “Forgive me?” He pouts.

You roll your eyes, fighting back a smile. For as much as you want to be mad at Sebastian, you can’t resist the puppy dog eyes he gives you anytime you even remotely disagree. Not that there have been many disagreements lately anyways–Sebastian has been nothing but entirely amenable since you’ve returned to his life.  There was only one time you thought you might actually fight over Sebastian littering used teaspoons all over the flat, but he’d more than made up for his behavior by spending the better half of an evening with his head between your thighs.

“Fine.” You purse your lips, hiding the smirk you know Sebastian is searching for. “I’ll meet you outside of the hospital at eight o’clock.”

Sebastian Sallow’s boyish grin will be the cause of your downfall someday, but not today.  His beaming smile and flushed freckles makes your heart beat a little faster, and you feel completely alive.

You walk tentatively into the auror office, clutching the basket of lunch you’d just made for Sebastian.  His favorite–a ham and pickle sandwich on sourdough bread, apples you’d picked up together at the market, and some homemade cookies (Anne’s recipe, obviously–you’re rubbish with baked goods).  After feeling quite homely in your St. Mungo’s uniform, you decide to dress up today.  The move is inspired completely by the way you’d caught Sebastian admiring the dresses you’d moved into his now fully stuffed wardrobe. You’re wearing one he spent a good minute looking over, likely imagining how low the neckline could possibly lay.  You’d swatted him, scolding his cheeky glance, but had decided to wear it anyway after he’d left that morning.

You hear your name over your shoulder; turning around, it’s Everett Clopton, a big grin stretched across his face. His dark curls are tucked behind his ears, sporting his classic gold wire glasses.

“I was wondering when we’d see you here.” Everett bowed his head slightly, hands in his front pockets. “Bringing a snack for Sebastian?”

You blush, gesturing to the basket. “Where is he?” you crane your neck, looking over the office.

“Lucky bugger just got promoted after the trial,” Everett rolled his eyes. “Something about bravery or whatever. Got his own office and everything.  I think he was moving his things in.” 

Even more of a reason to celebrate, you think.  Sebastian had been toiling over the prospect of the potential promotion over the last two weeks, and all of his hard work was starting to pay off.  You thank Everett, sauntering your way over to the door at the end of the hall, a little gold plaque marked S. Sallow on the front.

“Surprise,” you call out cheerfully as you push the door open.  Your smile fades into shock when you see a pretty woman perched on top of the desk, flicking through a box of Sebastian’s belongings.  

Marlene, you remember.  The woman from the elevator.

She smiles at you as she slides off the desk, pressing creases out of her dress. “I didn’t know Sebastian was expecting any visitors.” she says kindly. “And how sweet, you brought him lunch.”

You clear your throat. “I have.  Do you know where he is?” 

Marlene presses her lips firmly together. “Off to the loo.” 

You fidget with the basket in hand. “Right.”

“You two haven’t been together long, have you?” Marlene asks, walking slowly towards you. “I would’ve heard about it, I should think.  Sebastian and I do spend quite a bit of time together.”

You can feel your ancient magic bubbling over with your anger. “Do you?” you spit out.

“Working, of course.  Amongst other things.” Marlene nods, patting your shoulder. “Sebastian can be such a sweetheart,” she purrs. “Yet such a fickle lover, don’t you think?”

You turn on your heel, bolting from the small office.  Tears are pricking at the corner of your eyes; clearly, Sebastian hasn’t spoken about you to his colleagues yet.  It makes you feel quite silly, considering all the other healers in your unit are constantly fawning over the daily flowers Sebastian sends.  Yet you cease to exist in the auror office, with only his two partners and your former schoolmates knowing of your existence.

You could hear your name being called, but nothing could stop your feet from hitting the ground, nearly breaking into a sprint in your effort to remove yourself from the vicinity. Before long, you’re in the main lobby, heels clacking on the black tile as you make your way to the floo flames. Just as you’re about to floo to your own home for the first time in weeks, you run into a solid body.

“I’m so sorry–” you begin, blinking rapidly as you recognize the suit in front of you.  Eyes trailing up, you see a familiar set of eyes, and a smile you thought you’d never see again.

“Hello you,” your former fiance proclaims, his hand on your elbow. “What in Merlin’s name are you doing here?”

If there could be awards for terrible days, this one would take the cake.  Not only are you running from Sebastian’s former fling, you’re now faced with the man you utterly destroyed a few months ago. It isn’t a fond memory, but you can recall the distraught look in his eyes as you arrived at his flat in the wee hours of the morning, clutching his engagement ring. He still looks just as handsome as you remember him–dark hair, a well groomed mustache, and bright, sparkling blue eyes that could even rival Ominis Gaunt’s (not that you’d ever let Ominis hear that you’ve made a comparison).  

For as handsome as you find him, his face is still not the one you crave the most.  

“Pet,” you hear from behind, Sebastian gasping for air. “Did you not hear me?”

Great, you think. This makes your day even better.

“Who is this?” Your ex-fiance asks, a slight frown on his face.

You turn to look at Sebastian, who is slightly panting as he puts a hand on your shoulder.  He looks slightly disheveled, his crisp white shirt rolled up to his elbows, the top unbuttoned.  He looks at you, and then the man next to you, trying to put the pieces together.

“This is Sebastian Sallow,” you gulp. “He was my patient.”

Your ex-fiance gives him a full glance over. “You’re one of those aurors from the ambush, aren’t you?” his eyes narrow. “Freshly promoted by the minister himself.”

Sebastian frowns at him, eyes trailing down to the grip he has on your elbow. “And you are?” he sneers at the stranger. 

Your ex-fiance keeps his hand on your elbow. “Eric McNair. Junior secretary to the minister.” he grits.

Sebastian stands tall. “A pleasure, Eric.  If you don’t mind, the lady and I have somewhere to be.” his hand remains on your shoulder, and you find yourself sandwiched between two men you’ve loved–each for very different reasons, and in very different ways.

“This is him, isn’t it?” Your ex-fiance says flatly.  His blue eyes pierce your soul, clearly in pain.  It’s almost as bad as the way he looked at you when you shoved the pretty red velvet ring box back into the palm of his hand.  You had lied that night, claiming there was no one else that had changed your feelings–it was your fault, not his.  That had only been partly true, considering the freckled bastard beside you had planted the seed of doubt.

“I’m sorry,” You wince. There’s no dancing around the subject, especially with the way Sebastian has his hand curled around your shoulder.

Ever the gentleman, your ex-fiance lifts his grip on your elbow. Bowing his head slightly, he purses his lips as he backs towards the floo flames. 

“I hope you two are happy together,” he says curtly, before disappearing into the green fire.

Taking in a sharp breath, you turn to Sebastian.  He’s looking down at you, slightly stunned. 

“Will you please come back with me?” Sebastian nearly wheezes. “You and I need to talk.”

You nod dumbly, letting him guide you back to the elevator.  The two of you are silent, Sebastian’s hand lightly gripping your gloved hand.  Once you’re back on the fifth floor, Sebastian guides you through the office to his.  Larson is now sitting on Everett’s desk, giving you a goofy wink as Everett complains about his crumbs dusting the tabletop.  You glance sideways, seeing Marlene looking quite frustrated, sitting at her own desk now.

Sebastian shuts the door behind you; the office is still empty, Sebastian’s meager belongings in boxes around the room.  He mutters a quick locking and silencing spell, so that others might not hear you if you decide to argue.

“I wish you’d told me you were coming,” Sebastian huffs. 

You set the basket down on an empty shelf, whipping the gloves off your hands as you rest them on your hips. “So you would know not to have a pretty little coworker sitting on your desk when I arrived?” you snip at him.

Sebastian rolls his eyes. “That’s not what I meant.” he says bitterly. “I just…I would have made things nicer for you, that’s all.” He’s fidgeting now, which is most unlike him.  

“Do your friends know about me?” You snap at him.

“Everett and Andrew know, but it’s no one else's business. They’re not my friends, they’re my colleagues.” Sebastian argues. 

“Colleagues you’ve slept with,” you retort.

“That’s ancient history, and you know it.” Sebastian declares. “Marlene is a colleague–she’s one of the secretaries in the office, we have to work together.  Besides, it was over a year ago when it happened, and I’ve turned down every advance since.”

“Well, she clearly thinks she still has a chance.” you bite back.

“And what about that man in the lobby, then?” Sebastian argues. “Just a friend of yours? The two of you looked fairly chummy.”

A frown settles into your lips. “Really, Sebastian?  Surely you’re more perceptive than this.”

Sebastian’s frown turns into confusion, and then clarity once he’s put it together. 

“Your fiance?” His eyes widened. “The pencil pusher?”

“Ex-fiance, thanks to you.” you grumble. “And I told you not to call him that.”

Sebastian’s face turns red as he begins to pace around his office.  Now that he knows, his head is surely filled with all the scenes of your past relationship.  Eric was a man you’d known well–well enough that you’ve laughed with him, slept with him, even agreed to marry him. 

Sebastian falls into his chair, blinking at you rapidly. “He looks nice,” he admits.

You are frozen in place, looking down at him and his sheepish face. “A perfectly nice man whose heart I broke.” You echo. “Because like the massive arse I am, I fell back in love with you within five days of seeing you.”

Sebastian holds a hand out to you, and your body reacts instantaneously, feet shuffling towards him.  He hooks his hands behind your thighs, pulling your body close.  Digging his face into your skirts, he grumbles his apology.

“I didn’t even mean for her to be in my office,” Sebastian strained. “She offered to help carry boxes.”

You know he’s telling the truth, but that’s not what’s really bugging you. “She didn’t even know who I was, Sebastian.” you bite your bottom lip. “I’ve told everyone who you are, how important you are to me.  Yet she feels like she can put her hands on you.”

Sebastian looks up at you, his big brown eyes filled with remorse. “What can I do to fix this?” he asks, slightly panicked.

“Tell me what I am to you,” you ask gently, tipping his chin up towards you.

“You’re everything,” Sebastian breathes. 

Ruffling his hair, you roll your eyes. “Be more specific.”

Sebastian wrinkles his nose. “Bit juvenile to call you my girlfriend, isn’t it?” He pulls you in tighter, pressing a long, languid kiss to the front of your bodice. It sends shivers up your spine, wishing there were several less layers of cloth between you two.

“You can call me that for now,” you murmur, nimble fingers moving towards his chest.  You give him a coy smile as your fingers start playing with the buttons of his vest. “But I would much rather you change my title sooner rather than later.”

“Yes, madam.” Sebastian’s eyes start roving over your body. He leans back, letting you slip your knee between his legs. You plant your hands firmly on his shoulders, looking down at him.

“I was hoping to see this dress on you soon,” Sebastian licks his lips. “Bend over for me, will you?” 

You roll your eyes, swatting at him. “You brute,” the laugh rolls off your tongue, but there is no hiding how badly you want him.  

Sebastian pinches the fabric of your dress between his fingers, eyes dancing over your decolletage. “I’m the luckiest bastard in the world,” he murmurs. “A promotion, my own office, and my dream girl.” You feel his hands slide around, squeezing your bottom through the fabric. “I’m quite tempted to take you right here, right now.”

It’s indecent, you think.  His coworkers are right behind the door.  But your baser urges drive you to pull away, making quite a show of sitting on his brand new, empty desk.  Sebastian watches you, slack jawed, as you cross your legs, pulling the fabric of your dress over your knees to expose your silk stockings.

“Tempting, you say?” you murmur, uncrossing your legs to show your body underneath the petticoats.

Sebastian launches himself off the desk chair, groaning as he tangles his hands in your hair.  You laugh against his lips as one of his hands trails up your leg, stopping where the lacy edge of your stockings meet your soft thighs. 

“You’re mad, woman.” Sebastian pants. “Only you could drive me to this.”

You bite back a moan as Sebastian’s fingers slide against you.  He gives you the filthiest smile when he feels how wet you are for him–he knows no matter how mad you are, he can reduce you to a trembling mess with his hands.  Always has been, you think.

“I want to hear you beg for it,” Sebastian urges you, curling his fingers inside.  You gasp as he adds a third, clutching onto his shoulder while he gives you the cockiest look you’d ever seen on him.  No, it’s Sebastian who should be begging.  Sebastian who should be quaking beneath you, begging for your forgiveness after the conversation you’d just had.

Even though you whine at the loss of his fingers, you push him backwards.  Sebastian is slightly shocked until he lands into his desk chair, bouncing into the leather seat.  Again, he’s at a loss for words as you surge forward, one hand on the chair back, the other popping the buttons of his trousers.

“What would you call me?” you ask him innocently, brushing your fingers against his clothed cock.

“W-w-what?” Sebastian sputters, looking down at your hand.

You tilt his chin back up to look at you. “What would you say I am to you?” You murmur, sliding your hand under his undergarments, tightly gripping his length.  He feels so soft and smooth, yet impossibly stiff at the same time. “Answer me, darling.”

Sebastian let out a stuttered groan, his head falling back against the chair.  When he doesn’t answer, you lighten your touch; he whines in response.

“You’re my girlfriend,” he moans.

“Hmm, I thought you said that wasn’t good enough.” Your thumb swipes over the crown of his cock, spreading a glistening bead of precum against his skin.

“My lover then,” Sebastian pants, tilting his head down to look at you through darkened eyes.

You smile sweetly at him, slowly kneeling between his legs. “You’ll tell all of your colleagues I’m your lover?”  You keep your eyes on his face as you press a sweet kiss to his tip, and Sebastian might just explode right then and there. “Seems like you’ve had quite a few.”

“The only one I’ve ever loved,” Sebastian moans, patting your hair as you slip your mouth around him, rolling your tongue against his cock. "Only you."

You hum in approval as he chokes out his praise for you, sweet names of endearment for you spilling out of his mouth as you hollow your cheeks.

“Sweet little thing– fuck, the sexiest witch I’ve ever laid my eyes on,” Sebastian rasps, looking down at you with pupils blown out in pleasure.  He chokes as he pushes you off of him, blinking while you wipe the saliva from your lips on the back of your hand.

“On the desk,” Sebastian’s voice falters. “Now.”

His mouth crashes against yours as you scoot your bottom onto the desk; Sebastian rucks your dress up to your waist, desperate to reach your hot skin underneath.  Your hands tug his trousers down, palming his round bottom as he groans into your mouth.  You can feel his cock pressed against your thigh, wet and throbbing.  Teeth smashing, tongues tangling–you simply cannot get enough of one another.

You’ve had months of sweet love making since your reunion, you think.  The urgent, feral fucking you’re about to receive is quite welcome.

Sebastian wastes no time sinking his length into you, pressing his forehead against you as his breath stutters. Looking up at you through his dark lashes, Sebastian has never looked more beautiful. You wrap your legs around him, allowing as little space possible between your bodies.

“I love you,” Sebastian grunts, thrusting his cock into you.  “ Only you.” The sound of those words coming out of his mouth again has your head rolling backwards. You’re thankful for the silencing charm Sebastian has cast on the door; the sound of his skin slapping against yours fills the small office.

“Sebastian,” you moan, falling back against the mahogany desk.  Your hands splay out against the surface, back arching as he rolls his hips just the way you like.  You’re both moaning with every hurried thrust; Sebastian’s hands are wrapped around your thighs, nails digging into the lace edges of your stockings. 

“I love the way you look sprawled on my desk,” Sebastian growls. He leans forward, kissing the tops of your breasts. “You’re a dream come true.”

“Am I?” You gasp, arms thrown around his neck. “Tell me more, Sebastian. Use your words.”

“Don’t think I haven’t been dreaming of this since the night you showed up at my bedside,” Sebastian warns, his sweaty forehead pressed against yours. “Merlin, I want to feel you come around me so badly.”

“What am I, Sebastian?” You murmur, fingers lightly wrapped around his neck.  He’s broadened with age, your small hands barely fitting around his neck.  But in this position, you can feel his quickened pulse, which makes your stomach flutter.  You feel the coil inside of you tighten, waiting for him to say the magic words that will push you over the precipice. 

“You’re the love of my life,” Sebastian rasps, eyes glued to yours. “Always have been. Gonna–I’m gonna make you my wife someday.” he whimpers.

You let out a satisfied cry as you finish around him, hands trailing up to grip his unruly hair at the root.  Sebastian is not far behind you, cursing as he spills his seed inside of you. His hips stutter against you on the edge of the desk, whispering filthy promises alongside the sweet reassurances of your future together.

After a long, passionate kiss, Sebastian pulls away, tugging his pants back up.  You blush, dropping your skirt hem back over your legs.

“Christened my desk,” Sebastian winks cheekily. “I was thinking we needed to, but I wasn’t quite expecting it to take place today.”

You roll your eyes, laughing as you slap his shoulder.  You’ll never stop loving him for his attitude, you think.  Sebastian can be so serious, chivalrous and determined.  The next, utterly depraved and passionate.  But underneath it all, Sebastian is filled with laughter and sweetness–something you’d forgotten after five years of trying to hate him.  It’s a sweet reminder of the boy you met when you were fifteen, who’d raced you to Hogsmeade on your first day of classes.  The boy who’d so bravely taken the fall for you when you’d snuck into the restricted section, and had swept you off your feet at sixteen.  

He’s a grown man now, you think.  But he’ll always be that Sebastian in your heart.  And one day, he’ll be your husband–you’re positively sure of it this time.

“Ham and pickle, my favorite.” Sebastian smacks his lips.

You smile at Sebastian as you unpack another box.  After your frenzied lovemaking, you actually started helping him with the task at hand.  His files are now meticulously organized, and you were working on his box of desk trinkets while he sat against the door, tucking into the lunch you’d packed for him.

“Still your favorite,” you remind him, carefully taking out a wooden picture frame.  You thumb over the glass; it’s of him and Anne as children with their parents.  You set it on the corner of the desk, next to the lamp.  There’s another small frame–Sebastian standing next to Ominis and Anne on their wedding day.  It pangs your heart to realize that you missed it, and that you’ll forever be absent in their photos. In fact, there are no photos of you in the box to display on his desk.

“What can I say?  I’m a creature of habit.” Sebastian says with his mouth full. 

“Y’know, I rather think my picture belongs on this desk.” You say, putting your hands on your hips. “I should think I’d get top billing.”

He beckons you; you fall to your knees, shuffling towards him, and you snatch the sandwich out of his hands, taking a large bite for yourself.  Surprisingly, Sebastian doesn’t protest–instead, he dips his hand into his trouser pockets.

“I keep a photo of you a little closer,” he confesses, digging out his wallet.  You remain stunned as he fishes through it, pulling out a creased photograph.  It’s the two of you on your graduation day from Hogwarts; you’re laughing at the camera, pointing at whoever was aiming it (it’s been so long, you can’t remember who).  Sebastian’s eyes remain glued to you, completely ignoring the photographer. It’s the last time you’d ever worn your Hogwarts robes, pointy black hats adorning your head as you both clutched your diplomas.

You swallow thickly, taking the photo in hand. “I can’t believe you still have this,” you murmur.

“One of my favorites.” Sebastian gulps, pressing his lips in a tight line as he tucks you into his chest. “Fished it out of my memory box, right after we got back together.  Should I find a frame for it?”

You feel silly for ever doubting him.  Sebastian has always known what you are to him–no title needed.  Blinking back tears, you look at the brunette, pressing your palm against his cheek. 

“I want you to keep it on you at all times,” you declare. “Right in your pocket, you hear me?”

“Yes ma’am.” Sebastian purrs, kissing the top of your head. “Perhaps we’ll have a more formal occasion to take photos soon.  Wedding photos, I think.” he teases.

The two of you finish unpacking his belongings, polishing off what remains in the lunch basket.  The hem of your dress is torn from dragging against the splintered edge of his desk, so Sebastian casts a hasty reparo charm on it.  You double check that you’re both decent before opening the door to his office, confidently striding out hand in hand.

It must be late afternoon already, as most of the desks are abandoned.  Marlene’s eyes are glued to whatever file she’s reading, ignoring the two of you.  You smile haughtily to yourself as Sebastian wraps an arm around your waist, pulling you in tighter.

“You two are disgusting,” Everett rolls his eyes. “As if we didn’t know what you two were up to all afternoon.”

“I beg your pardon,” Sebastian scoffs. “The lovely lady was helping me unpack my office.  And that’s no way to speak to your senior officer now, is it?” 

Larson lets out a booming laugh as he pulls on his jacket. “Well, should we all hit the Leaky Cauldron then?  Rest of the office is bound to be there already.”

Sebastian looks down at you proudly. “No, I think I’ll take the missus home.”

You can’t hide the blush on your face when Sebastian looks at you in such a way.  The two of you bid a hasty goodbye to Everett and Andrew as you walk hand in hand to the elevators, swinging the wicker basket.  When the elevator doors close, Sebastian pushes you up against the wall, putting a hand on your waist.

“Speaking of home, I think it’s time we start looking for a bigger one,” he announces. “I’ve found a few listings for new places, considering we’ll have to get a separate bedroom for your clothes. Plus, we should live a bit closer to the hospital for you.”

“Braving the London housing market together,” you sigh gloomily. “The next test of our relationship.”

Sebastian lets out a sparkling laugh, pressing his forehead against yours. “Pet, after everything we’ve been through, I think this will be an easy task.”

You bite your lip, smiling up at him.  He’s right, you think–nothing these days seems too difficult with Sebastian back at your side.

“I can’t wait.” You admit.  

The doors open, and Sebastian pulls you out into the light.

[matchavellichor]

AAAANNNNND another one:

Omi begs MC to let him help her whenever she goes out to slay poachers, ect. She never wanted him to get hurt, so she has always said no. After Omi starts giving her the could shoulder over it, she can't take it anymore, and she allows him to come along.

They bit off more than they could chew, however, and the last living poacher casts Imperio on MC and commands her to kill Ominis. (Poacher's injuries are too great to do anything else. Also just wants to make her suffer by forcing her to slay her friend)

She tries to summon the will to fight it, but it's not working, despite Ominis yelling at her, trying to snap her out of it. She disarms Omi and starts walking towards him. Nothing works until he pulls her into a kiss. It jars her enough that she breaks free from it and kills the poacher C:

bada-bing bada-boom. Happy ending <3

A/N: Finally getting through more asks, sorry for the delay 🥴 This was such a cute idea, ty for the request!! 💕

Kisses Against the Dark Arts

f!MC x Ominis Gaunt - Fluff - 2k words

Tags: Minor Descriptions of Violence, Use of Imperius, Crime Fighting Besties, First Kiss, Friends to Lovers, Banter

Summary: After dismantling a poacher camp goes astray, Ominis resorts to more unconventional means to free his friend from a dark curse.

“Are we almost there?”

“That’s the eighth time in the last half hour,” she huffs. “Ask me one more time and I’ll leave you to the Dugbogs.”

“Oh, excuse me for being concerned,” Ominis raises his hands defensively. “We’re already breaking curfew, we really shouldn’t stay out too long.”

She turns to blink at him. “You’re tagging along to destroy poacher camps with me and your concern is that we’re…breaking curfew.”

“Well, yes, it’s a perfectly valid concern,” he scoffs, as if it’s obvious. “Besides, I have a reputation to keep if I want to be made prefect next year.”

She shakes her head, incredulous. “I hate to burst your bubble, Ominis, but I think your reputation’s been sullied enough just by spending time with Sebastian.”

“Actually, I think it’s the contrary,” he retorts, looking smug. “I’m hoping that if Headmaster Black sees that I can successfully rally in the likes of Sebastian, he’ll consider me apt for the position.”

She considers this reasoning for a moment, before turning him with furrowed brows. “Didn’t he unleash a horde of inferi near the outskirts of Hogsmeade just last week? Is that what you call rallying in?”

Ominis looks unfazed, shrugging. “You win some, you lose some. I pick my battles.”

“Well, uh—now would be a good time to pick your battle,” she murmurs as she suddenly gets into a defensive position, wand arm outstretched in front of her. “We’ve got company, twelve o’ clock.”

“Why do you say these things as if I’ll know what you mean—” Ominis interrupts himself with a shriek as a spell just barely misses his head. 

She swiftly casts a few counterattacks while she ducks behind splintered logs and trees, shouting, “Up ahead, Ominis—I mean up ahead! Was the hurtling bombarda enough to solidify your sense of direction?”

Ominis narrowly avoids another incoming hex, a diffindo this time, rolling for cover into some underbrush. “Yes, thank you dearly for your help—you wouldn’t believe the wonders that near-decapitation will do for your spatial awareness!”

She sends a pillar of wooden crates careening through the air towards a trio of poachers, successfully burying them under layers of debris.

Ominis winces from behind her at the very audible sound of bones breaking. “Must you be so violent?”

An archer catches them off-guard from a surrounding tower and Ominis promptly sends a confringo in his direction, toppling the wizard from his perch in a fireball of flames.

“I hate to be that person, but I think that was arguably a bit more violent,” she murmurs, looking increasingly amused.

“Oh, quiet,” he scolds. “Minor lapse in judgment in the heat of the moment.” 

“Did Ominis Gaunt just make a pun?” she shouts over a chain of stupefies and expelliarmus, amusement and incredulity seeping through her tone.

He rolls his eyes. “It was not a pun, that would be terribly inappropriate.”

Even with a fair amount of banter to slow them down, working together they manage to eviscerate every last poacher with ease, and in record time. They free all of the captured animals with a few alohomoras, and she watches with satisfaction as they prance gratefully back into the forest.

Wiping off the soot on her cheeks from an awry confringo, she walks over to check up on Ominis leaning against a large oak tree, trying to catch his breath, doubled over with his hands on his knees. 

“That was…”

“Surprisingly smooth, right?” she beams. “I have to admit, I’m impressed. I thought I’d be casting a few limb reattachment spells by now, but you actually held your own.”

Ominis looks visibly unamused. “Well, you’re going to be casting a scourgify pretty soon…Gods, I’m going to be sick. Is it normal to smell so heavily of charred flesh?”

“All in a day’s work, my friend,” she pats his back a bit too harshly and he dry heaves over the grass. “Though, to be fair, I wasn’t the one going crazy on the fire spells.”

“They’re effective!”

“Effective at making human barbecue, sure,” she snorts.

He groans. “Dear Salazar, let’s just get out of here before I lose my dinner.”

She finally concedes, picking up her rucksack and slinging it over her shoulder when a jet of white light hits her from behind, nearly toppling her over from the full force of the spell that hits her square in the back.

All Ominis can hear is the Imperius incantation sounding in his ears from behind them, and a satisfied snicker from a lone surviving poacher, more than pleased that he hit his mark.

Ominis scrambles for his wand tucked away in his pocket, but the panic coursing through his veins at his friend being struck makes his reflexes unsteady. An expelliarmus knocks his wand out his hand before he can even properly point it towards the aggressor.

“Oh, this should be fun,” a grating voice shouts, and Ominis’ head darts towards the direction of the dark wizard. “Teach you meddling little shits not to poke your snout ‘round where it don’t belong.” 

The wizard directs his attention to where she’s still standing frozen in place, staring blankly ahead, her pupils a hazy white. A cruel sneer stretches across his mouth and he nods his head towards Ominis. “Kill him.” 

She charges for Ominis immediately, forcing the blonde to stumble back, toppling over a tree stump. She looms over him, wand arm outstretched and emotionless eyes staring down at him, before the wizard tsks disapprovingly from behind.

“Stop, stop. Use your hands,” he sighs, almost bored. “I think killing your friend warrants a bit more intimacy, no?” The evil cackle that rises from his throat is enough to make dread shiver down Ominis’ spine. 

Obediently, she discards her wind beside her, landing somewhere out of reach on the grassy field. She lunges for him, pinning him down with her body on his, fingers scrambling to wrap around his throat.

She’s smaller than him, but hours of training in the Undercroft has grown her strength significantly. Ominis finds it a genuine struggle to hold her hands away, her nails digging long, red lines down his arms as she thrashed.

“F-finite incantatem! Finite—oh, dear Merlin,” he attempts to no avail, voice frantic, her name tumbling from his lips in a litany of pleas to get her to snap out of the trance. “It’s me, it’s me, you can break the spell, just concentrate!”

“Uh oh, I don’t think she can hear you.” The poacher sits on a fallen tree trunk watching the entire ordeal, arms crossed lazily over his chest, a sadistic grin pulled at his lips.

Ominis ignores the taunting, using more force against her, collecting both of her hands in one of his while she still claws and writhes above him. 

“I don’t want to hurt you.” Genuine remorse bleeds through Ominis’ voice as he scrambles to push her off him, flipping them over and pinning her wrists to the ground underneath him. “Please.”

The poacher frowns at the sudden change in position, unpleased. “Use the dagger holstered on your hip,” he directs with his wand outstretched to ensure the full-force of the command. “‘Bout time things got more interesting.” 

She unsheathes the dagger in one swift movement, blade pressed against the pale expanse of Ominis’ throat, teeth bared in a vicious snarl.

It’s momentary, fleeting, but just then something flashes in her eyes. A brief flicker in the trance, the slightest stutter in her hand, color seeping through the milky haze of her irises. It’s gone as quickly as it comes, but proves useful anyways. 

Ominis capitalizes on this hesitation to wrap his hand around her wrist and keep her from applying too much pressure. A bead of blood runs down the long length of goblin-wrought steel, Ominis’ throat bobbing against the cold press as he swallows nervously. He winces when she tries to dig the dagger in more, cutting into unmarked skin.

“It’s me, hey, hey, just listen,” he tries to keep his voice steady, calming, but it wavers, his nerves an utter mess. “Your magic’s stronger than his. You can break it. Focus on my voice.”

“Oh, sure, that’ll work.” The poacher snorts, clearly entertained. “Maybe you should kiss her, lover boy, she might just be repulsed enough to snap out of it!” He doubles over laughing and Ominis grits his teeth in frustration. 

The suggestion doesn’t fall on deaf ears, however. 

Maybe he can blame the decision later on sheer desperation, a last ditch-effort to save his skin, pure adrenaline in the moment. Although, he would be lying if he said that was the sole motivation. He surges forward on instinct, lips crashing into hers, maintaining one hand in a vice-like grip around her wrist and the other cupping her cheek so she can’t squirm away from his mouth.

She freezes, eyes blowing wide, lips unmoving against his. The poacher is just as petrified beside them, in shock that Ominis had the gall to actually do it.

Just when he thinks his attempt was unsuccessful, the hand she has wrapped around the dagger goes slack, losing all pressure against his skin. She lets it fall to the grass beside them, blade discarded, before she’s bringing it back up to cup his cheek and pull him in for more.

Ominis feels his entire world tilt, his face heating, his brain too dizzy to procure a single coherent thought. It really is a terrible circumstance to have a world-shattering kiss. 

Thankfully, she’s somehow able to maintain better mental faculties. She outstretches a hand, fingers splayed open, casting a wordless accio for her wand dropped a few meters away from them.

The poacher is staring at them, mouth gaped like a fish, which is exactly how he remains when she sends a petrificus hurtling in his direction, another exhibition of impeccable wordless magic—because she absolutely refuses to remove her lips from his. 

He can feel her smug smirk when it hits the wizard square in the chest, toppling him over like a bag of bricks. He would’ve called her a show-off, if he had even the remotest capacity for words at the moment.

When she finally pulls away, his chest is heaving, a red flush creeping over his skin from under his oxford, over his neck and cheeks. She’s breathless when she finally finds her words, bottom lip pulled between her teeth. “That’s…certainly one way to break an Imperius.” 

He lets out an awkward laugh before sheepishly helping her up off the ground, dusting remnants of leaves and dirt off her clothes. He clears his throat, trying to feign an air of indifferent composure. “Are you alright?”

She glances at him sidelong, amused by just how affected he looks. “Not sure,” she smirks. “Might want to kiss me again, just to get rid of any traces of the curse. After all, you can never be too caref—mmph!”

While her intentions were just to tease, she can’t deny the thrill that courses through her when he actually wraps an arm around her waist, pulling her flush against his body. Her gasp dies on his lips as he presses his mouth to hers, her fingers curling into his shirt for support when her knees seem on the brink of buckling.

He kisses her hungrily, passionately, as if he wants there to remain no blurred lines between his intentions in kissing her, if the last one has left any room for doubt. This time, she feels her world tilt on its axis, her only grounding point being the protective confines of Ominis’ arms, his solid body pressed against hers.

She realizes she could spend hours like this, and she wonders why for two fearless, poacher-fighting mercenaries, neither of them had mustered the courage to do so sooner. 

“Better?” he finally pulls away, the ghost of a smile pulling at the corners of his lips, coated in smug satisfaction to rival even her own.

“I don’t know,” she grins, bringing her arms up to lock behind his neck. “Maybe we should be really, really sure.” 

[imagrindylow]

Sebastian, Leander, Ominis, Garreth & Amit React to MC asking to be choked

Woke up this morning thinking about getting choked by Leander, so had to write something. Thanks to @skittish1807 and @ellivenollivander for ideas on Seb's and Amit's, respectively. And for tolerating my obnoxiousness first thing in the morning.

Sebastian: “Oh you’re alright with being choked? Awesome.” He will take this as consent that will span, unwavering, for the duration of your relationship. He’ll work it into your heavy make out sessions, and foreplay, too. He’ll sneak up on you when you’re least expecting it and tease you with a hand around your throat throughout the day. He will love the look in your eyes when you give him that power, how him being in control amplifies your desire for him, it makes him wild. He wants you to choke him too, it seems exciting.

Leander: “You trust me enough to let me do that to you?” He’s proud, and thinks that's hot as hell. He’s eager to please, so you want it, you got it. He’ll use his height difference over you to his advantage and be extra intimidating when he looms over you and wraps his fingers around your neck, if that’s how you want it. He gets pretty into it, he loves the little smirk you give him when he takes control. He’d be interested in incorporating it regularly if it made you happy, and when one day he lets you do it to him, he likes that even more. Please straddle him and choke him, don’t make him beg (he totally would though).

Ominis: He’ll try it on you in the heat of the moment before you even had the chance to tell him it’s something you were interested in. He likes having the upper hand, so it’s naturally something he was curious to do, and when he hears the way you moan for him when he does it, and feels how you rut yourself up against him while his hand is around you, its like you flipped a switch for him. “You like my hands around your throat, do you? You would, you naughty girl.” He will never let you reciprocate, though.

Garreth: When you bring it up, he giggles, but he agrees and he’s excited to try it. He’d be a bit too gentle at first, but with your encouragement, he does it just right. He likes feeling your rapid pulse and knowing that he’s the one causing it. He likes playing with fire and this gives him the same rush. After the first time he does it, he’d say something like “If you liked my hands, I can think of something else I can choke you with.” He would not be super receptive of you choking him in return, but if you wanted to restrict his breathing, he’d happily let you sit on his face.

Amit: You’d have to beg him to even consider it, and when he finally relents and says he’ll try, what you get is more of a tender little squeeze. You’re pretty sure you’ve wrapped your scarf tighter. You’d have to coax him on, and the second he applies an adequate amount of pressure, he’d be asking if you’re alright and letting up in concern. Despite all of your reassurance, this just isn’t his thing, and that’s okay. He’d promise to try other things out until you found something together that suited you both.

[luma-black]

The night before (Sebinis Short story)

His legs were straddling Sebastians hips. Sun shone warmly through the window. The door was open, and a cooling breeze was relieving on their overly warm torsos. Birds were tittering and you could here wind going through trees. Sebastian lay on the couch, eyes closed, enjoying the feeling of the warmth, the wind, and hands on his naked chest.  

Ominis had his eyes Closed. He felt soft skin turn into that smooth feeling of one of the countless ugly scars, that littered Sebastians Body.

Sebastian took Ominis hand by the wrist and slowly guided it towards his face. Ominis could almost see his relaxed expression. His hair having grown. His curls never quite lying flat.

He sighed. Ominis was so tired, but he didn´t want to stop.

It was the night before.

Tomorrow their fifth school year would start. The cold season would come and with it the sadness and the hollow feeling of guilt.

Damarcus-

Gentle Hands brought him back to reality and the joy, the freedom, the relief all that touched his face bringing all the dark thoughts far away, burrowing them, but not killing them.

Grief can be helpful after all and Important. Never forget that,

He told himself.

The hand was slowly stroking his back and he let himself fall towards that warm body, which was catching him and engulfing him in something he didn´t deserve.

Sebastian felt that familiar feeling of clear blood being spilled on his shoulder. Calming both and coaxing the blanket of sleep upon the world.

[fitzs-trained-monkey]

The Blood of the Covenant

Chapter One: First Steps (Toward White-Faced Cliffs)

Summary: Ominis Gaunt makes his very first friends. || Masterlist

Warnings: None

Song: We Are Gonna Be Friends - Carried Away

A/N: Please tell me what you think. This is my first real contribution to this fandom and I'm unreasonably nervous about it.

He felt a certain fondness looking back on that day. Sitting in King’s Cross Station, assaulted by unfamiliar and frightening sensations. It was scary at the time, but he’d only been eleven then. The hulking monster of soot, smoke, and steel lurched out of the station, and with it, he was finally, finally free.

Even though, at the time, he hadn’t quite figured out that he was trapped to begin with.

That would come with time. And pain. But he didn’t know that quite yet.

And to be fair, he wasn't entirely free. His mother and father would scarcely let him flee so effortlessly from their clutches. But for the first time in his life, he had a real choice - many real choices, in fact. Surely, if he fought hard enough, he wouldn't have to be the villain. He wasn’t destined to become his older brother or his father. He could be the hero, he was sure of it. At eleven years old, he was determined. He would write his own story - prove mother and father and ‘Volo wrong. He would just have to be brave. 

That was the tricky part. 

Bravery wasn't particularly his forte. 

Well, he would just have to work on that. After all, how hard could it be? Without mother and father around to punish him, or ‘Volo over his shoulder to ensure they would, the boy was sure that bravery could be forged easily enough. And Hogwarts, of course, would be the perfect place to build up a little courage. 

Perhaps he could start with what Aunt Noctua always said: Making some friends. 

The only problem there was that… well he'd never really had a friend before. The closest he'd ever come to a playmate were the family house elves and somehow, he didn't think that magical enslavement was quite what his Aunt had in mind. 

" How does one go about making a friend ?" The boy wondered with a frown.

A soft click jarred him from his reverie, and the boy tilted his head toward the door of his little seating area, listening to the voices he'd previously been ignoring.

"Well, I don't know… push it a little harder?" One of the voices, likely a girl's though it was hard for him to distinguish, said. 

"I'm pushing on it as hard as I can." The second speaker sounded more like a boy, at least in temperament.

"Then why isn't it opening?"

"Perhaps it's jammed?" The second voice suggested. This was followed by an indignant huff from the first.

"But everywhere else is full!" The girl complained. "Try it again, Sebastian."

"Oh, fine!" The boy - Sebastian, evidently - exclaimed. "But if I break my shoulder, you'll owe me a new one."

The boy inside the compartment raised a brow and stood. Reaching out, he felt around for the door's handle before twisting and easily sliding it open. 

"It helps to unfasten the latch," He hummed, rather amused. Then, gesturing inside the compartment, he smirked. "In need of a seat?"

"Yes, please!" The girl chirped. He quickly stepped to the side as she slipped past him. Sebastian followed, though not without a low grumble.

"I would have gotten that eventually," He said. The rustle of fabric that followed usually indicated that a speaker had crossed their arms and the frown in his voice wasn't hard to detect. 

"Of course you would."

Sebastian huffed. "As if you didn't do the same thing your first time riding a train."

"I didn't." The boy shrugged, chuckling. Sebastian opened his mouth to contend that only to be met with a quick jab in the ribs from his companion. 

"Sebastian!" She chastened. "Don't be rude!"

"Right. Sorry."

"Apologies on behalf of my brother," The girl said, an eye-roll quite evident in her tone. "It's a pleasure to meet you. I'm Anne Sallow, and he's Sebastian."

The boy nodded. "Pleasure to meet you both," He replied. 

"Are you not going to introduce yourself?" Sebastian wondered. Were he an adult, likely there would have been a hint of displeasure in the boy's tone, but seeing as he was merely eleven, the only undertones in his words were those of curiosity.

The boy froze. If he shared his name, the likelihood that these two would desire to befriend him would either drop or rise significantly. (The latter for all the wrong reasons, of course.) However, he could hardly go about befriending anyone should he withhold his name from the entire school.

"I'm Ominis." He took a deep breath, grimacing as he readied himself for the backlash (or quite the opposite) to come. "Ominis… Gaunt ." 

There was silence.

“Oh…” That was Sebastian.

"I've… heard things about that family," Anne's voice began softly. Not at all an odd thing to say really. Because everyone who was someone had heard something about the Gaunts. Looking back on it, he could hear it in her, just as he had so many others. 

The fear. The disgust. 

And beneath it all, there was that reluctant awe. (In his usual circles - his parent's circles - that awe was less reluctant and more forced. ) As though he were some sort of prince, heir to a vile, imaginary crown. 

Oh, how he grew to hate it.

Though he was only eleven at the time and oh-so-innocent, Ominis knew enough. He knew enough to recognize that his family was awful rude and stuffy and old fashioned. He just didn’t know how bad it really was. Not at the time. His name - his bloodline - was his crown, revered by all, and coveted by those who didn't have the sense to fear it. The Gaunt legacy was one of darkness and hate - it was not something to be exalted. 

Why could people not acknowledge them for what they were? Not royalty, but-

"Pure-blood maniacs - the lot of 'em. That's what my uncle says," Sebastian cut in, foregoing his sister's more polite tone. There was no awe in his voice. Ominis caught only a steadfast surety. "I never understood why the Prophet always talks about your folks like they're some kind of royalty, but that whole clan sounds more like a bunch of spoiled brats to me. What say you, Ominis?"

The blunt honesty caught him off guard. Ominis blinked.

You see, despite having been born blind, (or perhaps because of it) Ominis Gaunt was quite adept at reading people. He could hear the difference between a smile and a sneer, even when one masked the other. He could scent out a lie from across a room, even in a setting steeped with deceit. He could taste a challenge before it crawled its way between a speaker's lips, not unlike a snake that tastes its prey from deep within its hole - never giving a warning before it strikes. (An apt metaphor, though Ominis would never take pride in it.)

The boy was so used to deception - had lived his entire eleven years of life by its principles. Navigating the cloak-and-dagger conversations of pure-blood high society was a skill sewn into his very essence. Yet, none of his parents' instructions on navigating polite conversation could have prepared him for the metaphorical bludger that was Sebastian Sallow.  

His words alone painted for Ominis a perfect impression of his entire personality. 

Thus Ominis was quite sure that the child before him was unlike anyone he had ever met. This boy had never known wealth nor privilege as he had. (Ominis could smell the dirt on the clothes he and his sister wore.) There were no schemes nor hidden agendas, it seemed. No, he simply didn't have the patience for such things. He was purely upfront - a trait Ominis was far from used to. Sebastian wasn't going to play nice for the sake of propriety.

And truthfully, Ominis was quite bored with propriety. Perhaps that was why he didn’t lash out in his family’s defense. Or perhaps it was because ‘Volo had pushed him down the stairs earlier that day. He wasn’t sure. Either way, that was the beginning. That was how the wool over his eyes began to unravel, so to speak. But again. He didn’t know that yet. For now, as an eleven-year-old who was quite annoyed with his brother would, he just found it all rather funny.

"Ugh! ‘Bash!" Anne hissed, though the admonition died on her lips when Ominis cracked a smile.

"Oh, I quite agree," He said with a smirk. "You can't imagine the family reunions." 

Oh , if his parents heard him say that… 

Rather, only Sebastian and Anne did. They didn't seem particularly affronted. In fact, a broad grin stretched into Sebastian's next words. 

"I think the three of us are going to be great friends, Ominis."

And Ominis smiled then. They had extended their friendship first, and he hadn't even needed to do anything! He'd thought he would have at least had to buy them off, but no! They didn't ask a knut of him. What a spectacular feeling that was! 

He could be normal, like Auntie Noctua always said. He could make friends. He could do this . 

He would prove his siblings and his parents wrong, just like Aunt Noctua always said he could.

"Thank you, I look forward to it," He said, with a slight smile. "So, this is your first year at Hogwarts as well, I presume?"

"Yes, it is!" Anne answered readily, practically buzzing with excitement.

"I see." He nodded. "Would the two of you happen to be twins then?"

"Indeed we are," Sebastian hummed, a hint of pride in his voice. "Can't you tell?"

Ominis frowned and retreated slightly. "As a matter of fact, I-I can't," He said.

"Why's that?" The boy wondered, genuinely confused. His sister sighed.

"Because he's blind , Sebastian," She hissed under her breath.

"Oh… Wait, really?"

Ominis raised a brow. "Yes?"

"So what's that like?" He wondered, leaning forward in his seat. "What color is everything for you? Is it black or white?" 

Anne groaned. 

"I wouldn't know…" Ominis answered slowly. Yet a smirk tugged at the corners of his lips, despite himself. "I was born this way. What's your excuse?"

Most questions he received about his blindness were demeaning in some way or another. He was used to them by now. However, for once, he didn't mind because this one was entirely genuine… if only in the sense that not a single ounce of thought had been put into it. 

"He doesn't have one, I'm afraid." Anne deadpanned. "He's just an idiot."

Sebastian's robes rustled as he drew back, offended. "What are you two getting at? I just ask-" He paused. "Oh."

It would seem that Sebastian's mouth ran a bit faster than his head. There was honesty in that. Ominis found himself appreciating it.

"Merlin's beard, Sebastian." Anne sighed, shaking her head. She shifted to address Ominis. "Believe it or not, my brother's got the brain of a Ravenclaw."

"Pity he doesn't use it," Ominis hummed, teasingly.

The girl giggled. "That's what I've been saying for years."

"Oh yes, how clever of you, Anne. Let's all just applaud your stunning originality," Sebastian said flatly. Ominis could practically hear him rolling his eyes. "You know, Ominis, I've always thought my sister more inclined to Gryffindor," He continued. "She reminds me of a lion quite often. Though, not so much in temperament as in looks. I mean, you're lucky you can't see because it's rather frightening - razor sharp claws, yellow teeth, and when she wakes up in the morning, she's got quite the impressive mane. She's also unreasonably loud!"

"Wha-" Anne gasped and a loud thump indicated that Sebastian was going to have an impressive bruise on his arm by the end of the day. 

Ominis couldn't help but laugh. And, oddly enough, that laughter lasted for the duration of the train ride. He'd never before felt the urge to laugh quite like he did in the presence of the Sallow twins. Because… well he could . With no one around to chastise him, he could laugh all he wanted. 

Something warm and entirely foreign stirred in his chest. Thus, on that very day, Ominis Gaunt experienced the sensations of both true freedom and kinship for the first time in his life and, like a Niffler, he welcomed it greedily, relishing it in the moment before it would inevitably be taken from him. After all, good things were always taken from him. He wasn't good enough to keep them. He hadn’t quite learned that lesson yet. But he would.

Rather sad that, but no one ever said this was a happy story. 

By the time the train arrived in Hogsmeade Station, the twins were practically bouncing off the walls of that little compartment. Though, in hindsight, the mounds of candy Ominis bought for them to share certainly didn't help matters. He did it because he could. Because mother and father would have told him no. Because he had money and his parents never spent a Galleon on anyone else. Auntie Noctua said generosity is a good thing. So Ominis would be a generous little boy.

“Oh, Sebastian! Just look at it!” Anne squealed, her face plastered to the window. Her brother, in an attempt to remain composed and thus appear more mature than his sister, remained in his seat. He was equally excited, however, if his voice was anything to go on.

“We’ve passed by dozens of times. We practically live here! Why is today any different?” His feet drummed on the floor. Oh, he couldn’t wait.

“Because today we’re going inside !” Anne shook her brother vigorously and Ominis couldn't help but laugh. 

“Look at it, Ominis!” She then implored him. 

He didn’t hesitate a second.

“Oh, yes. Stunning. Positively mind boggling.” 

“Isn’t it just?” She sighed. “I’m just so… wait.” She whipped around again and crossed her arms.

“HA!” Sebastian gave a rather loud and phony laugh. “Who’s the moonmind now?”

Anne kicked her brother before resting her hand on Ominis’s arm. He flinched, but only a little bit. He was proud of that. Thankfully, she didn’t touch his skin. That would have been far too much. He was only eleven, after all. He hadn’t realized it wasn’t normal for touch to be an awful thing. He hadn’t yet realized it wasn’t normal for parents to hit their little ones.

“I’m so sorry,” She said. “I truly didn’t mean to be so rude.”

Ominis just chuckled in response. “Don’t be. You’re not mean, Anne.”

The poor girl seemed so genuinely and deeply upset. It honestly floored him.

“No, no. I really will be more careful.”

“Don’t waste your breath,” He maintained. “It will happen again. And again… and again.”

He was, after all, quite used to much worse. 

Then the train pulled to a stop. Ominis was a bit thrown in his seat, but otherwise alright. Sebastian jumped up like someone had just lit off a Wizzpopper in their compartment. He and his twin were bouncing on their feet. 

“Are you ready, mate?” Sebastian prodded. Now, this made Ominis frown. He fleetingly reached into his robes to touch his wand. Still there.

“I… I think I’ll wait.” He said. Anne immediately frowned. 

“Wait?” She sounded like she couldn’t possibly fathom what the word meant. “Merlin’s beard! Why would you possibly want to wait?”

He caught himself swaying a bit again and corrected. 

“Less people.” He replied. 

“Oh… I see.” Sebastian nodded slowly. Then he giggled. “Dammit. I did it again.”

Anne hit him. For the fourth time. Ominis suspected she did that quite a lot. 

“Sebastian!” She admonished. “Language! There is a lady present.”

“Shit. Where?” He gasped mockingly. “Ominis, have you lied to me?”

They were trying to make him feel better. It was working. He smiled.

“Oh, I hope not.”

“Damn. Don’t say that, mate. You got my hopes up.” 

Anne died a little bit, smacking her palm against her forehead loud enough for Ominis to flinch again. He opted to change the subject before she did herself (or her brother) any more damage.

“Say, if the two of you live in this valley - as I assume you must - why take the train?” He wondered. 

“You talk so fancy,” Anne said. Not an actual answer to his question and she sounded rather sad. He decided then and there that he didn’t like it when Anne Sallow sounded sad.

He’d hardly had time to frown before Sebastian spoke up.

“Mum and Dad were so excited about it,” He said. “They ate up any bit of news they could. They so desperately wanted us to be able to ride.” The boy laughed and then his voice fractured - and not because he was an eleven year old boy. “They set aside some money. Put it in their will. Uncle Solomon says its just this once.”

“Oh.” And really. What else could he say? “You’re… orphans?”

The thought of simply not having parents seemed so foreign to him. But then again… perhaps not.

Before her brother could say anything brash (and he was going to judging by his intake of breath) Anne huffed and placed her hands on her hips. 

“That we are,” She said. “Come now. Looks like most everyone has cleared out.” 

She took him and her brother by their sleeves and promptly dragged them from their compartment. Sebastian was rather stiff - his footsteps gave him away. 

“You’re very brave, you know,” Ominis told the other boy under his breath. Sebastian froze.

“There are steps here, Ominis. Three of them. Be careful.” Anne informed him, remaining deliberately unresponsive to his comment. 

“Yes, thank you.” He pulled out his wand and it pulsed a few times. It vibrated, seemingly happy to be put to work after hours in his pocket. There were indeed three steps. Ominis liked Anne quite a bit. Thoughtful she was. Loud, but in a good sort of way. An honest way. His wand liked her too. She descended the steps first and her brother, though he didn’t turn to face Ominis, he did speak. His voice was quiet in an awful sad sort of way. 

“Brave… That’s not what people usually say,” He murmured. 

Ominis cracked a little smile. Noctua always said that a stretch of the lips and a crinkle of the cheeks makes people more at ease. 

“Well, I do like to be different.”

Sebastian huffed a laugh and helped Ominis down the steps. There was something warm about that. He was trying. They both were. 

However it was Sebastian who ended up slipping off the last step.

Ominis and his new friends stood at the back of a herd of eleven-year-olds who began to walk almost as soon as the three of them got off the train. They quickly followed. At the head of the pack was a man who introduced himself as Mr. Moon - the Hogwarts groundskeeper. He inhaled quite a lot throughout his speech and Ominis found that rather annoying. Speech patterns aside, the groundskeeper led them down a rather steep gravel-covered path. It was still rather slick from the afternoon rain, which the young Gaunt did not appreciate in the slightest, but really that only made something amazing happen. Every time he slipped (which was only thrice, mind you) Sebastian would catch him.

Ominis really didn’t need him to. He didn’t need help . In fact, he never really even lost his footing - just slipped a little. Yet, Sebastian was there. He helped, and not in a demeaning way. He didn’t say anything. Just helped. But that was enough and Ominis felt a little warm around him.

The next obstacle, however, was worse . 

There were many things that Ominis Gaunt did not like. He was a particular person after all. But rather high on that list was a simple little thing called water . He didn’t like it. He didn’t like floating in it, he didn’t like being doused with it, and he most certainly despised the thought of drowning in it.

Now, most unfortunately, he was led by this groundskeeper onto a dock of all things and waiting for the little first years, were boats . Waves lapped against the shore and the little wooden contraptions bumped against the dock. Ominis did not want to be in a boat. All the other first years were climbing on in and the boats rowed themselves away from the dock soon after being filled. Or at least, he assumed as much, as the accursed things bobbed their way out of his wand’s range. For the record, his wand was a little curious about the water. After all, it had experienced so little aside from the dusty wand shop which had housed it for most of its inanimate life. It wanted to learn of water, but Ominis would not indulge such curiosity. 

“Oh, how lovely!” Anne chirped. “Boats!”

“No.” Ominis said simply.

Sebastian frowned. “No?”

“No,” He said again. “I’ll not be getting in one of those things.”

“Doesn’t look like you have another option, mate,” Sebastian noted. “Thats the only way to get to the castle.”

He crossed his arms. “There are carriages.”

“Those carriages over there?” Anne referenced some point in the distance. “Good luck. They’re at least a hundred meters to our right and moving fast.”

Ominis hesitated. 

No,” He said again. “I’ll wait right here.” 

Now, he was fully aware that he sounded like a spoiled child. But really - Boats!

“Oh, come on. Its not that bad,” Sebastian tried to persuade him.

“Drowning at age eleven seems quite bad!” He exclaimed.

“Ominis! They’re leaving us behind!” Anne pleaded.

He huffed. “Then you two go on. I suppose I’ll not be receiving an education.”

“Not without you.”

The twins were then unusually quiet for a moment, and Ominis really should have seen it coming. But he would learn. One day he would learn. 

He felt a pair of hands grab onto each of his arms, and with a strength that belied their size, the twins lifted him into the little dingy waiting just off the dock. Ominis protested vehemently but that changed nothing. As he was set down, the boat rocked dangerously from side to side. He cried out, latching onto the sides with a death grip. But now that he was in the boat, it wasn’t like he could get out.

“You two are going to get it for this!” He spat - an entirely empty threat, but he felt it needed to be said.

“Whatever you say, Ominis.” Sebastian climbed into the boat next and Ominis just about lost all that candy from earlier as the thing teetered and tossed. Then Anne boarded next and all he could really do was grumble.

“Come on… you too,” Anne said once settled. 

Ominis frowned. ”Hm?” He hadn’t heard anyone standing behind their little trio - no breathing, no footsteps.

Yet, the boat rocked again and a pair of robes brushed over his leg. A tiny, quiet little voice apologized. 

“And what’s your name?” Anne asked as the boat began to move. Ominis just groaned.

“I-Irene.” This student was clearly a girl. She sounded more terrified than he was. “My name is Irene.” And she had a funny little voice too - flat and throaty, scratched up like she’d been screaming all day.

Ignoring the oohs and ahhs of his companions, (the other girl didn’t make a peep) Ominis tried very hard not to think about anything at all as their little boat approached the castle. Certainly not how just one wrong move would have him flailing in icy liquid until his clothing dragged him down to the depths of the Black Lake. Yes. He absolutely wasn’t thinking about that.

When finally their boats bobbed into a harbor that was apparently underground according to Sebastian, Ominis finally let himself breathe. Which was a relief as he was beginning to get a bit lightheaded. Sebastian and Anne climbed out first and together pulled him from the death trap dingy. 

“Alright, up and out now,” Sebastian urged the other girl. Very helpful these twins were, he decided. Ominis heard the clasp of their hands and then… a second noise, this one none too pleasant. See, Sebastian tugged on the girl’s arm and there came a loud, rather stomach-churning pop. Ominis assumed it was her shoulder.

The poor little thing hissed but miraculously stayed upright in the boat. Seeing as their little group was the last to arrive and most of the other first years were already filling out, the little mishap garnered little attention. However, Anne, always so concerned, was positively mortified.

“Bloody hell, love! Are you okay?” She immediately climbed off the landing and back into the boat, before helping to lift the other girl out.

“I’m fine,” Irene said, still so quietly. 

“I-I am so, so sorry…” Sebastian swallowed audibly. “I think you should get that looked at…” He sounded downright sick. There came another disgusting popping noise followed by a nasty grinding that made Ominis even more queasy than he already was. 

“Great gobstones!” Anne gasped. “Did you just shove your shoulder back into its socket?”

Irene seemed to back away a bit. “It's fine… happens all the time.”

“Alright…” Sebastian scratched the back of his head. “Wait a minute, are you an American?”

Ah, so that’s what was so odd about her voice! Ominis had been looking in the wrong place, so to speak. It was her accent that was funny. The little oddity was American. How… exotic. 

“Y-yes… I am,” Irene practically whispered.

“Well… God blind me,” Anne said.

“Language, Anne,” Sebastian teased.

“Oh, shove it.” 

Ominis just huffed, still rather grumpy - or at least reminding the twins that he had been. “Well, come on! Let’s not miss the sorting.”

Pulling out his wand, he and the twins followed after the rest of the first years. The strange American trailed behind them, quiet as a mouse. Destiny awaited them. And all four of them knew it. Perhaps, however, with all fate had in store for them, they shouldn’t have been quite so giddy.

[ashland-frost]

Part Two.

Sebastian x Frost 🐍🐦‍⬛💚💙

I'll wait for you.

Sebastian and Ominis continued their usual banter, engaging in the familiar routine of bickering, eating, and drinking. As he observed Paris and Garreth enjoying each other's company, Sebastian was torn between the desire to express his feelings, the weight of grief that still lingered within him and maybe the fact that he might have to let these feelings go.

Sensing his friend's uneasiness,“Sebastian, don't dwell on it too much, just take things slowly,” Ominis advised.

“Yeah, you're right. I think I'm finished eating,” Sebastian stood.

“Do you want me to go with you?” Ominis asked.

“No, I'm going for a walk. A little fresh air would be good.”

Sebastian exits the hall, and a hushed murmur fills the air. "Do you think he's feeling sad seeing them together?" one person whispers. "Poor guy lost his sister and his love," another voice chimes in. Someone else interjects, "Damn, don't say that. It just makes it even sadder when you say it out loud."

After a few whispers, Paris scans the room, perplexed. "What is going on?" she asks, her curiosity piqued.

Garreth responds, "Well, I think everyone heard about our little date today, and they assumed you would be going out with Sallow."

"But why Sebastian?" Paris questions, her confusion evident.

Garreth hesitates before answering, "You two have been quite close since last year, and I was surprised when you agreed to the date. I assumed you liked him, but I wanted to get it off my chest that I liked you. And, well, everyone knows he likes you."

"Huh?" Paris is taken aback, her mind swirling with disbelief.

"Didn't you know? It was pretty obvious to everyone," Garreth admits.

"I didn't," Paris confesses, her surprise overwhelming. Garreth notices her reaction and becomes unsure of what to say next. He decides to leave it at that and continues eating, leaving Paris to process what she heard."Hold on a sec," Paris muttered, excusing herself for a moment. She swiftly rose from her seat and made her way out of the bustling hall, determined to find Sebastian.

Meanwhile, Garreth remained seated, fully aware of her intentions and reluctant to meddle. He had already confessed his feelings to her, believing that she needed time to figure out her own emotions.

Sebastian, surrounded by the enchanting dance of fireflies and the gentle breeze from the black lake, found solace on a bench. As he savored the moment of tranquility, "This feels better," Sebastian remarked, briefly letting his guard down.

Paris approached him, seeking a conversation."Sebastian?" Paris called out.

"Spoke too soon," he whispered, his mood evident. "Is there something you need, Paris?" he asked, a hint of irritation in his tone.

"Can I sit next to you?" Paris inquired, cautiously approaching.

"Is that okay with your boyfriend? Being alone at night with another man?" Sebastian smirked, clearly not in the mood for light banter.

"He's not my boyfriend... he just asked me on a date, and I said yes," Paris explained.

"Yeah, dating equals boyfriend, little lady," Sebastian retorted, his irritation palpable.

"Is that how you see things?" Paris countered, attempting to downplay the situation.

"Oh, forgive me. I'm very old-fashioned. If I date, I intend to marry, and I take things slowly," Sebastian declared, staring directly at her.

Feeling a twinge of embarrassment and guilt, Paris asked hesitantly, "Were you taking us slow? is that what this was between us"

"Yes, and I see patience isn't your thing. Well, it doesn't matter now," Sebastian brushed back his hair, now gazing out at the lake. "Why are you here? Did you come to confirm the rumors that I must be sad?"

"Is it true?" Paris questioned, her tone filled with genuine concern.

Sighing heavily, Sebastian turned to face Paris. "Yes, I liked you from the moment I saw you last year and enjoyed our time together."

"Why didn't you say anything?" Paris asked, her voice carrying a mix of confusion and longing.

"I didn't feel I needed to. I made it very obvious, and with everything that happened with my uncle and now Anne, I wasn't in the right mind to confess officially to you. And now, I see it's a good thing I didn't. I don't wish to hold you back," Sebastian admitted, though he avoided direct eye contact.

"If you had just told me, I'd..." Paris began, her tone tinged with desperation.

"You'd what? Wait for me until I'm ready? Would you break up with your boyfriend, or would you continue being with him, enjoying your time together? I hear you two were very close on your date," Sebastian's voice carried a hint of frustration as he raised it.

"Sebastian! It's not like I would have waited. Why didn't you tell me... I..." Paris started, her words trailing off as she struggled to find the right response.

"Please, not right now. I don't want to hear it. Just go back and let me enjoy the rest of my night peacefully," Sebastian requested, closing his eyes, hoping she would respect his wish to be alone.

"I'm sorry," Paris uttered, her apology hanging in the air as she walked away, leaving Sebastian to grapple with his emotions in the quiet solitude.

"Argh, there it is again, more 'I'm sorry,'" Sebastian muttered to himself, resting his head in his hands. After a while, a strange noise caught his attention, and he looked over to his right in the bushes.Dumbfounded, he questioned, "What? Or, better yet, how long have you been there?" He spotted Frost sitting curled up in the brush, her bright eyes fixed on him.

"Hey... umm awhile, so what brings you here on this beautiful night?" still in the bushes

"I was planning to relax, but it seems the women around me don't like the idea," he smiled. "Are you going to stay down there?"

"You mean I can sit next to you, cause the heifer didn't get to?" Frost looked up curiously at him.

Sebastian laughed. "You are unusual, but yeah, come sit next to me. Talking to you like this is very strange. Like I'm talking to a brush with eyes "

She emerged from the foliage and settled down beside him. "Hey there, good-looking. Looks like we're skipping advice number one, huh?"

Sebastian nodded. "Yeah, I was leaning towards number two."

Frost raised an eyebrow. "Any chance someone managed to breach your defenses?"

Sebastian shrugged. "More like swiped a brick. The wall's pretty massive," he admitted, a touch of vulnerability in his voice.

"Guess you need a fortress for that fucking anaconda" she giggles

Sebastian laughed. "You've got quite the mouth on you."

She smirked. "Oh, I know. It's got its uses."

"I... I'll take your word for it." he blushed slightly

"Sorry, I tend to speak my mind a bit too freely."

“Well, I don't mind, it's refreshing. Can I ask you something?” Sebastian leaned his head back, staring at Frost.

“Go for it,” she winked.

he chuckled, and then sighed “Do you think I made a mistake with her? I'm only asking because I feel you'll give me a straight answer.”

“And that I will. Personally, no, I don't think so. You've been through rather a lot, and you do need time to settle your mind. Also, I don't believe she'd wait for you. She likes to do things in the moment. So unless you want to do the waiting, settle your mind, and ask her out, which I think her impulsive self would break up with whoever she's with and go for you. But then, you don't know all the fun she'd have had with others. By the time she gets with you, it might not be what she thought it would be and now you're alone again. So, you waited for what?” Frost provided a direct and unfiltered answer.

“Yeah, you are perfect for giving someone direct answer. Thanks. You're really making this shit day a great one,” Sebastian acknowledged, a sense of gratitude in his voice.

“You're welcome. I'm always here to listen to you and give the best advice ever, Take things slow,” Frost advised.

Sebastian leaned back on the bench, and Frost smiled as she looked at him. Seeing him so relaxed, she felt proud to have been there to help him through the challenges of the day.

“Frost! Frost, where did you go?” Constance's voice echoed through the night.

“Oh shit! Gotta go, later, Sallow,” Frost quickly got up,Before leaving, she turned to Sebastian. “Oh, and... I'd wait for you. I just want you to know, I mean it.”

Sebastian watched as she walked away, a mixture of surprise and bewilderment on his face. “Fuck... how can she tell me to go slow when she says something like that? I should marry her,” he laughed at himself for entertaining such a thought, the irony not lost on him.

“Frost... you Frosty little bitch, is that Sebastian over there? I just saw Paris, and she looked like she was about to cry. Tell me what happened; I know you're good at going unnoticed.”

“Well, I did go unnoticed until Sebastian looked over to where I was. That's my fault; I wanted to make sure he was okay.”

“And he saw you, and what?”

“Would you believe it? He told me to sit next to him. I thought I died and went to heaven; his voice is sexy.”

“Did you tell him that too? Knowing you, it's possible.”

“I kinda did.”

“Of course. So, did you two get closer?”

“I think so. He likes to talk to me, it seems.”

“You are interesting to talk to, I'll give you that.”

“That's why we're friends.”

“Of course. Now come before you stalk him to the Slytherin dorm. I feel you'd find a way to get in.”

“I actually—”

“No way! Really?”

“I haven't had a good enough reason to try it out.”

“Oh, Melin, what is this witch?” Constance exclaimed, a mix of amusement and disbelief in her voice.

[bohobooks]

Description: After telling the boys that you shift to their universe when you sleep, they get extremely curious what it's like where you come from.

Warnings: None. Well, probably cringe. Also, Deek is a bit laid back, as MC and him have became very close. Just to make it more fun and silly.

____________________________

"MC I have another question." Sebastian stated as he pretended to browse through the books in the Room of Requirement.

"Well, that's a shock. It's not like you haven't already asked three with in the past 15 minutes," Ominis snorted from his spot on the worn emerald gothic couch where he lounged across from you.

You shoot Ominis a look, which he somehow must feel because he just rolls his eyes and continues twirling his wand between his fingers.

"And what would that be, Seb?" You giggle. Ominis was right, he was been quite inquisitive this past week after you told them.

"Do you guys dress the same as muggles do now?" He said as he abandoned his feigned search for books, now plopping down on the couch beside you.

"Oh Merlins beard, no. Honestly I'm sure you'd find the way we dress quite scandalous."

Ominis lifted an eyebrow, now seemingly interested in the conversation. Sebastian chuckled, "Come on, can you show us? It's just the three of us in here." He paused, glancing over at Deek where he stood throwing popcorn into the air and catching it in his mouth, "Well, four."

Deek catches a kernel and turns to the three of you, "Deek does not mind, Deek is quite used to the garb."

You blush as you turn towards Deek, throwing a pillow at him which he dodges and chuckles. Sebastian, sensing your discomfort clearly decides he just has to have details now, "Do tell, Deek."

"Well you see, they wear their 'other clothes' when they are alone in the room of requirement. They say that Wizard robes are, and I repeat exactly, "Way to freaking warm."

Deek was telling the truth, you would always switch over to the clothing you'd wear in your world when it was just the two of you. I mean, it was a rather hot spring. Why did robes have to be so damn heavy?

"Fine," You sigh as the boys glance at you expectantly. "But if I'm wearing clothes from my world, so are you."

You pull out your wand and flick it in their directions, and in the middle of Ominis' protest, the boys find themselves wearing rather odd outfits.

Sebastian jumps up and glances down at his outfit. He is clad in black skinny jeans as well as a black t-shirt, topped off with an dark green and black flannel. You inspect your work and smile, quickly conjuring a black beanie.

Ominis on the other hand sits up, hands trailing around his body to inspect. He wears skinny blue jeans and a black knitted sweater.

Sebastian walks over to the mirror against the wall checking out his outfit, "How weird. Honestly I kind of like it." He glances back at Ominis, "You actually look nice too, mate."

You smile and think about your favorite outfit. You settle on (insert your own outfit if you don't like mine) black high waisted shorts, a black tank top, over the ankle black combat boots and a flannel very close to Sebastians.

Sebastians mouth drops open. "Don't worry, I covered my ankles so you don't have an anuerysm." You chuckle.

Deek smiles, "Deek likes the changes you have made."

Sebastian smiles, thanking Deek, straightening up a bit and rocking on his heels confidenly. Ominis still on the couch, quips, "Would someone like to fill me in? Why are they talking about ankles?"

You listen to Sebastian describe all of the outfits and Ominis' face contorts to one of both shock and awe, "MC, are you telling us you can walk around with your legs exposed for everyone to see?"

"Oh Omi, this is nothing. Wait until you hear about bikinis."

________________________

A/N:

I know this is silly, I just feel like they'd be super curious about where MC really comes from. Let me know what you think, and if you have any ideas on what else we could introduce them to.

Check out my book on Wattpad! And send in requests.