#writing-intheundercroft

[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.

[darch7995]

➻ 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐇𝐨𝐮𝐬𝐞 𝐂𝐮𝐩 (𝐒𝐞𝐛𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐚𝐧 𝐄𝐧𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠) ♀

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➻ 𝐃𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐝 𝐢𝐧 𝐌𝐚𝐠𝐢𝐜 ♀ ✑ 𝑐𝑜𝑙𝑙𝑎𝑏 𝑤𝑖𝑡ℎ @legacygirlingreen

➻ 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐍𝐨𝐬𝐞 𝐊𝐧𝐨𝐰𝐬 » ᴘᴀʀᴛ 1 ♀ ✑ 𝑐𝑜𝑙𝑙𝑎𝑏 𝑤𝑖𝑡ℎ @legacygirlingreen

➻ 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐍𝐨𝐬𝐞 𝐊𝐧𝐨𝐰𝐬 » ᴘᴀʀᴛ 2 ♀ ✑ 𝑐𝑜𝑙𝑙𝑎𝑏 𝑤𝑖𝑡ℎ @legacygirlingreen

➻ 𝐋𝐢𝐯𝐞, 𝐋𝐚𝐮𝐠𝐡,…𝐋𝐢𝐳𝐚𝐫𝐝? ♀ ✑ 𝑐𝑜𝑙𝑙𝑎𝑏 𝑤𝑖𝑡ℎ @legacygirlingreen

➻ 𝐒𝐭𝐫𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐇𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐬 » ᴘᴀʀᴛ 1 ♀ ✑ 𝑐𝑜𝑙𝑙𝑎𝑏 𝑤𝑖𝑡ℎ @legacygirlingreen

➻ 𝐒𝐭𝐫𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐇𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭𝐬 » ᴘᴀʀᴛ 2 ♀♫ ✑ 𝑐𝑜𝑙𝑙𝑎𝑏 𝑤𝑖𝑡ℎ @legacygirlingreen & @silverxstardust

➻ 𝐈𝐧 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐒𝐡𝐚𝐝𝐨𝐰 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐇𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭 » ᴘᴀʀᴛ 1 ♀

➻ 𝐈𝐧 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐒𝐡𝐚𝐝𝐨𝐰 𝐨𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐇𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭 » ᴘᴀʀᴛ 2 ♀♫ ✑ 𝑐𝑜𝑙𝑙𝑎𝑏 𝑤𝑖𝑡ℎ @silverxstardust

➻ 𝐖𝐢𝐥𝐝 𝐑𝐢𝐝𝐞 » ᴘᴀʀᴛ 1 ♂ ✑ 𝑐𝑜𝑙𝑙𝑎𝑏 𝑤𝑖𝑡ℎ @thenerdykneazle

➻ 𝐖𝐢𝐥𝐝 𝐑𝐢𝐝𝐞 » ᴘᴀʀᴛ 2 ♂ ✑ 𝑐𝑜𝑙𝑙𝑎𝑏 𝑤𝑖𝑡ℎ @thenerdykneazle

➻ 𝐀𝐦 𝐈 𝐑𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭? ♀

➻ 𝐂𝐨𝐦𝐞 𝐇𝐨𝐦𝐞 ♀ ✑ 𝑐𝑜𝑙𝑙𝑎𝑏 𝑤𝑖𝑡ℎ @sassysaxsolo

➻ 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐇𝐨𝐮𝐬𝐞 𝐂𝐮𝐩 (𝐎𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐢𝐬 𝐄𝐧𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠) ♀

➻ 𝐫𝐢𝐝𝐞 𝐢𝐭 𝐰𝐞𝐥𝐥, 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐰𝐚𝐲 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐝𝐨… (𝑵𝑺𝑭𝑾) ♀

➻ 𝐀𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐬 𝐓𝐞𝐧𝐬𝐢𝐨𝐧 » ᴘᴀʀᴛ 1 ♀ ✑ 𝑐𝑜𝑙𝑙𝑎𝑏 𝑤𝑖𝑡ℎ @thenerdykneazle

➻ 𝐀𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐬 𝐓𝐞𝐧𝐬𝐢𝐨𝐧 » ᴘᴀʀᴛ 2 ♀ ✑ 𝑐𝑜𝑙𝑙𝑎𝑏 𝑤𝑖𝑡ℎ @thenerdykneazle

➻ 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐏𝐞𝐫𝐟𝐞𝐜𝐭 𝐆𝐢𝐟𝐭 ♀♫ ✑ 𝑐𝑜𝑙𝑙𝑎𝑏 𝑤𝑖𝑡ℎ @writing-intheundercroft & @sleepywitchlory

➻ 𝐭𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐝 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐭𝐫𝐮𝐞 ♂ ✑ 𝑐𝑜𝑙𝑙𝑎𝑏 𝑤𝑖𝑡ℎ @writing-intheundercroft

➻ 𝐑𝐮𝐬𝐡𝐞𝐝 𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐟𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 ♀ ✑ 𝑐𝑜𝑙𝑙𝑎𝑏 𝑤𝑖𝑡ℎ @sassysaxsolo

➻ 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐇𝐨𝐮𝐬𝐞 𝐂𝐮𝐩 (𝐆𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐞𝐭𝐡 𝐄𝐧𝐝𝐢𝐧𝐠) ♀

➻ 𝐀 𝐏𝐫𝐨𝐦𝐢𝐬𝐞 𝐢𝐧 𝐇𝐞𝐫 𝐒𝐦𝐢𝐥𝐞 ♀ ✑ 𝑐𝑜𝑙𝑙𝑎𝑏 𝑤𝑖𝑡ℎ @sevprince-91

➻ 𝐏𝐨𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬 𝐂𝐥𝐚𝐬𝐬 (𝐒𝐞𝐛𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐚𝐧 𝐕𝐒 𝐆𝐚𝐫𝐫𝐞𝐭𝐡) ♀

➻ 𝐃𝐨𝐮𝐛𝐥𝐞 𝐓𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐛𝐥𝐞 𝐚𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐃𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐞 (𝐎𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐢𝐬 & 𝐒𝐞𝐛𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐚𝐧) » ᴘᴀʀᴛ 1 ♀

➻ 𝐃𝐨𝐮𝐛𝐥𝐞 𝐓𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐛𝐥𝐞 𝐚𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐃𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐞 (𝐎𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐢𝐬 & 𝐒𝐞𝐛𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐚𝐧) » ᴘᴀʀᴛ 2 ♀

➻ 𝑫𝒐𝒖𝒃𝒍𝒆 𝑻𝒓𝒐𝒖𝒃𝒍𝒆 𝒂𝒕 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝑫𝒂𝒏𝒄𝒆 (𝑶𝒎𝒊𝒏𝒊𝒔 & 𝑺𝒆𝒃𝒂𝒔𝒕𝒊𝒂𝒏) » ᴘᴀʀᴛ 3 ➥ (𝐶𝑜𝑚𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑆𝑜𝑜𝑛…)

➻ 𝐑𝐨𝐨𝐦 𝐨𝐟 𝐑𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐢𝐫𝐞𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭 (𝐎𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐢𝐬 & 𝐒𝐞𝐛𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐚𝐧) » ᴘᴀʀᴛ 1 ♀ ✑ 𝑐𝑜𝑙𝑙𝑎𝑏 𝑤𝑖𝑡ℎ @sassysaxsolo

➻ 𝐑𝐨𝐨𝐦 𝐨𝐟 𝐑𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐢𝐫𝐞𝐦𝐞𝐧𝐭 (𝐎𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐢𝐬 & 𝐒𝐞𝐛𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐚𝐧) » ᴘᴀʀᴛ 2 ♀ ✑ 𝑐𝑜𝑙𝑙𝑎𝑏 𝑤𝑖𝑡ℎ @sassysaxsolo

➻ 𝐋𝐨𝐬𝐭 𝐈𝐧 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐖𝐨𝐨𝐝𝐬 (𝐎𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐢𝐬 & 𝐒𝐞𝐛𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐚𝐧) ♀♫ ✑ 𝑐𝑜𝑙𝑙𝑎𝑏 𝑤𝑖𝑡ℎ @thenerdykneazle & @silverxstardust

➻ 𝐍𝐞𝐰 𝐏𝐞𝐫𝐩𝐞𝐬𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐯𝐞 (𝐒𝐞𝐛𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐚𝐧 𝐀𝐈 𝐅𝐮𝐥𝐥 𝐒𝐨𝐧𝐠 𝐂𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫) ♫ ✑ 𝑐𝑜𝑙𝑙𝑎𝑏 𝑤𝑖𝑡ℎ @silverxstardust

➻ 𝐂𝐨𝐥𝐝 𝐃𝐞𝐜𝐞𝐦𝐛𝐞𝐫 𝐍𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 (𝐎𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐢𝐬 𝐀𝐈 𝐅𝐮𝐥𝐥 𝐂𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫) ♫ ✑ 𝑐𝑜𝑙𝑙𝑎𝑏 𝑤𝑖𝑡ℎ @sleepywitchlory

➻ 𝐇𝐞𝐥𝐩𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐇𝐚𝐧𝐚 (𝐒𝐞𝐛𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐚𝐧) ♀

➻ 𝐇𝐞𝐥𝐩𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐇𝐚𝐧𝐚 (𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐈𝐈 ➢ 𝐒𝐞𝐛𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐚𝐧) ♀

➻ 𝐌𝐨𝐢𝐫𝐚’𝐬 𝐌𝐚𝐠𝐢𝐜 (𝐒𝐞𝐛𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐚𝐧) ♀

➻ 𝐌𝐨𝐢𝐫𝐚’𝐬 𝐌𝐚𝐠𝐢𝐜 (𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐈𝐈 ➢ 𝐒𝐞𝐛𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐚𝐧) ♀

➻ 𝐄𝐯𝐞𝐥𝐲𝐧'𝐬 𝐓𝐞𝐬𝐭 (𝐒𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐩) ♀

➻ 𝐒𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐡'𝐬 𝐒𝐞𝐜𝐫𝐞𝐭 (𝐎𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐢𝐬) ♀

➻ 𝐄𝐯𝐞𝐥𝐲𝐧'𝐬 𝐅𝐨𝐫𝐭𝐮𝐧𝐞 (𝐎𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐢𝐬) ♀

➻ 𝐑𝐞𝐧'𝐬 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐥𝐢𝐳𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 (𝐒𝐞𝐛𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐚𝐧 & 𝐎𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐢𝐬) ♀

➻ 𝐑𝐞𝐧'𝐬 𝐑𝐚𝐢𝐧𝐲 𝐃𝐚𝐲 (𝐒𝐞𝐛𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐚𝐧 & 𝐎𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐢𝐬) ♀

➻ 𝐀𝐮𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐧'𝐬 𝐀𝐜𝐜𝐞𝐩𝐭𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐞 (𝐒𝐞𝐛𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐚𝐧) ♀

➻ 𝐋𝐮𝐜𝐲'𝐬 𝐋𝐨𝐯𝐞 (𝐒𝐞𝐛𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐚𝐧) ♀

➻ 𝐈𝐧𝐞𝐬' 𝐀𝐝𝐦𝐢𝐫𝐞𝐫 (𝐒𝐞𝐛𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐚𝐧) ♀ ✑ 𝑐𝑜𝑙𝑙𝑎𝑏 𝑤𝑖𝑡ℎ @legacygirlingreen

➻ 𝐀𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐧𝐚'𝐬 𝐀𝐧𝐜𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐫 (𝐒𝐞𝐛𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐚𝐧 & 𝐎𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐢𝐬) ♀ ✑ 𝑐𝑜𝑙𝑙𝑎𝑏 𝑤𝑖𝑡ℎ @thenerdykneazle

➻ 𝐌𝐚𝐭𝐜𝐡 𝐌𝐚𝐝𝐞 𝐌𝐞𝐧 (𝐒𝐞𝐛𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐚𝐧 𝐱 𝐎𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐢𝐬) ♀ ✑ 𝑐𝑜𝑙𝑙𝑎𝑏 𝑤𝑖𝑡ℎ @thenerdykneazle

➻ 𝐂𝐥𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐞'𝐬 𝐂𝐮𝐫𝐬𝐞 (𝐒𝐞𝐛𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐚𝐧 & 𝐎𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐢𝐬) ♀

➻ 𝐃𝐞𝐚𝐧𝐧𝐚'𝐬 𝐃𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐬𝐢𝐨𝐧 (𝐒𝐞𝐛𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐚𝐧) ♀ ✑ 𝑐𝑜𝑙𝑙𝑎𝑏 𝑤𝑖𝑡ℎ @legacygirlingreen

[sunnyrealist]

Trend on Twitter that I’m bringing to Tumblr: Shock your followers with facts about you!

I cannot be trusted to take care of plants. 🥀

I hate coffee!!!

I love spoilers but only when I look them up myself! I know the endings of most books long before I get there.

I was a sorority girl in college.

I rarely drink because my husband doesn’t. I would almost always prefer a Diet Coke. Specifically, a McDonald’s Diet Coke. 🥤

I appear very organized at work, but I am incredibly messy at home. There are doom piles in my closet and all over my desk.

I am afraid of tape measurers. 😳

I LOVE the sensation of free-falling.

My husband and I eat at Texas Roadhouse almost once a week. 😅

I’m kind of ashamed to admit this, but it came up in a Discord server recently... After really thinking about it, I’ve only read the Harry Potter series once the whole way through! I always say I will read the books again someday, but then I just end up reading fanfic instead. 🤪

No pressure tags: @hotcinnam0nspicy, @portalsprincess, @findingtruenorth23, @juneymont, @underthenightskydreamsneverdie, @silverxstardust, @animasola86, @morelikeravenbore, @sloanesallow, @tarotwitchy-main, @evaslytherpuff, @xxluna-rougexx, @ladyofsappho, @ellivenollivander, @writing-intheundercroft, and anyone else interested in the game! Let’s get to know each other better! 💛

[damn-it-a-hogwarts-legacy-blog]

I am starting a character sheet chain >:)

I found some really fun and interesting character and otp sheets here! (blanks also below the cut if you don't have twitter)

So I've made my lil wizarding couple and wanna see yours :) If you don't ship, that's cool too! Use whatever sheets you want--no need to use both! 💚

Taggingggggg @boxdstars, @grandeoatmilklatte, @witchyafterdark, @shingodzilla98, @blueraineshadows, @writing-intheundercroft and @ellivenollivander Anybody else who wants to do it, go ahead!! 💚

BLANKS BELOW:

[legacygirlingreen]

There’s been so much negativity lately I truly am sick of it. I have been feeling so drained. So instead of posting about it, I wanted to talk about some of the great things I’ve seen or experienced lately.

First I want to shout out @eternalremorse for being the most supportive person I’d argue in the fandom. Forever reblogging everyone’s content, commenting, etc. you truly are such a welcoming and lovely friend

@localravenclaw for also being someone who supports almost every post with the tag Hogwarts legacy!

@writing-intheundercroft I adore our convos and your writing. I know you are such a talented and fun person and it’s so wonderful to have someone in the fandom who’s in a similar place as I am. You get how I feel about the current group and it’s so refreshing to not feel alone.

@animasola86 for being so absolutely sweet about their work, screenshots, and all around so kind! I am so excited to finish up this one shot and share the screenshots you did! You write some of the best spicy content for the fandom and are CRIMINALLY under rated!

@silverxstardust @darch7995 for our fun collabs we have done over the past year! You both are so sweet and the rocker AU will continue to live on (still working on part 3) !

@heyitszev for being a champion for enriching the content in this fandom and speaking out to gain some more diversity and inclusion. Thank you for your brilliant mind and your dedication to making a space that is authentically YOURS

@cuffmeinblack @blueraineshadows for continuing to upload again and again all your stories and sharing your talent with us! You both have continued to push this fandom to over ride their easily formed opinions on characters like Leander and push for more enrichment with ones like Andrew Larson!

@tamayula-hl @rednite-dork for being my personal favorite artists in the fandom! Your works - especially with aged up Sebastian continue to make my heart soar!

@kaylasallow @redd-jayy @ilovewritingfics @charisdoesntcare @finalgirllx @jeniffler @opalmoony @minmns and so many others for continually being blogs I see liking, commenting, and reposting my work! Having a steady flow of those who appreciate what I do helps me continue to find the energy to post 💚

I know there’s so many people I likely forgot but I just wanted to thank those in the Hogwarts Legacy Fandom for continuing to keep this a fun, expressive and lovely place. You ALL rock! Feel free to keep the chain of love going if you so please and I know I forgot people!

[eternalremorse]

Hogwarts Legacy: "One Year Later" Discord Collab

For the one year anniversary of Hogwarts Legacy, we decided to do a creative collaboration with our lovely friends in our Discord server, posting whatever their hearts desired, with the theme centred around just that - one year later!

✨ Fic: "A Year In Love" by @grandeoatmilklatte

✨ Fic: "Falling Back Into Step" by @applinsandoranges

✨ Audio: Sebastian x F!MC by @slytherin-paramour

✨ Fic: "One Year Later" by @blueraineshadows

✨ Fic: "Reset" by @skittish1807

✨ Fic: "One Year Later" by @daydreamsonacloudyday

✨ Fic: "When You Know, You Know" by @writing-intheundercroft

✨ Audio: Garreth and Sebastian by @newbienewness

Fancy joining our community on Discord? The Three Broomsticks welcomes you! Please send an owl to myself, @blueraineshadows or @slytherin-paramour 🦉

[ellivenollivander]

No context meme.

@mourning-swallow, @grandeoatmilklatte, @writing-intheundercroft, @rgbbutnoy @imagrindylow

[cuffmeinblack]

I got distracted by Andrew whilst reading @writing-intheundercroft's Auror Seb fic so uhhh here's some Auror Andrew who would absolutely punch a guy in the face.

[giselsann-opencommissions]

💚Commission for @writing-intheundercroft 💚

[ravenbronze]

Willow

Sometimes ya need a crackship in your life 🤷‍♀️

Dedicated to @diligentcranberry @slytherizz @xantineverdoer @writing-intheundercroft @kaidynsarell for all their Willow goodness and for feeding the obsession with TSH/Henry Winter/80s AU Sebastian/general insanity 🙃

(I promise I’m gonna draw some actual HL stuff again as well 😂)

[writing-intheundercroft]

Wreck My Plans - S. Sallow

AO3 Link

Word Count: 8,734

Rating: E (Smut, Oral Sex, Fingering, Pregnancy, NSFW, MDNI)

Summary: You try to share some life-changing news with Sebastian, but it seems he has other plans. Specifically, recruiting you to join one of his missions.

A/N: Auror Seb is back! I've been writing this one in the background for a while. Who was going to warn me that writing action sequences was hard??? Next one for auror Seb is a prologue to the series :)

“You’re sure?” You ask, swallowing thickly as you process the information your fellow healer has just told you.

“Very.” She smiles broadly. “By the looks of it, ten weeks or so.  You never noticed any of the symptoms until now?”

Your hand flies down to pet your stomach, and the tiny bump that now seems obvious.  How could you have not known?  

“I figured I was just hungrier,” you admit. “Tired from the transition to the day shift, adjusting back to the time zone after traveling.”

“Yes, well no more international travel for you.” the healer advises. “Not until the baby is born.  I daresay, you might not be traveling for quite some time, especially with a young babe in hand. How’s that house in Marunweem coming along?”

You’ve been bragging about your fixer upper for months now; Sebastian has really made a dent in the work, adding another bedroom and fixing up a porch on the backside of the house.  During the week, Sebastian is poised and collected, proving time and time again to his superiors just why he deserved the promotion to senior auror.  On the weekends, he has his sleeves rolled up, shirt unbuttoned as he hammers away at the wooden planks.

More often than not, you’re ripping his shirt off for him, or situated below him on your knees.  He works so incredibly hard for the two of you and the life he wants to give you; it's hard to keep your hands to yourself.

You start piecing together the timeline, what you’d been doing all this time; when you remember where you were at, you blush at the thought.  Ten weeks ago, you and Sebastian were in Sicily, enjoying your first real holiday as a couple.  He spared no expense, renting a palazzo from an Italian wizard he’d met through a contact in the department of international magic affairs.  You’d spent three glorious weeks by the sea, eating fresh seafood and exploring every inch of Sebastian’s body at night.  

“Sebastian!” You swatted at him.  

He grinned at you, his fingers plunged inside of you.  It was positively deranged the way he began fucking you with his hand, the seed he’d just spilt inside of you pushed further in.

“What?” he asked nonchalantly. “You did agree to have my baby a few months ago, if I recall correctly…”

Sebastian’s swollen lips descended upon yours, hungrily kissing you.  To your surprise, his thick length started to swell again, clearly aroused by your whimpering and the wet sound of his spend being manipulated, pushed even closer to its goal.

“You’re incorrigible,” You laugh against his lips as he situated himself between your legs again. The room was dimly lit, only deeply burnt candles illuminating the room you’d called home for the past few days.

“What can I say?” Sebastian whispered, teeth grazing your chin. “I’m insatiable for my fiancee.”

You took in a sharp breath when you felt the blunt head of his cock pressed against your heat again. “That’s the third time tonight,” you gasped as he slid into you with ease.  Your body knew who it belonged to–Sebastian was no intrusion. Your head tilted back against the pillows, moaning as Sebastian laved his tongue up and down your sweaty throat. 

“I don’t care,” Sebastian grunted, slowly rolling his hips against you. “Three–fucking–weeks–ungh, all I want to do is have you in bed, naked, for three whole weeks uninterrupted.”

You clutch onto him, teeth sinking into his shoulder as you flutter around him again. 

“Ma’am, are you listening?”

You blink out of your daydream, looking back up at your healer. 

“What did you ask?”

“I asked if you’ve been doing any strenuous activity lately.” The healer asks.

You turn bright red, brushing the back of your neck with your hand. You’ve been bedding Sebastian nearly every night, at least when the two of you aren’t exhausted from work or feeling ill.  Neither of you ever minded to track your courses, considering they’d been tricky after years of an off-kilter schedule at St. Mungo's. 

“I’ll take it easy,” you assure the healer, who doesn’t seem all that convinced. She lets you off with a blood renewing potion and some vitamins, and you leave St. Mungo's in a daze.

Your first instinct is to run straight to the ministry, barreling into Sebastian’s office with the news.  But on second thought, it’s probably news best saved for home–you’d rather not have the most important news of your life shared in front of his colleagues. Instead, you make your way to Diagon Alley to pick up supplies for dinner, stopping by the owl post office to send a note to Poppy.  You haven’t heard from her in a little while, but you know she’ll be over the moon when she reads the news.

All is well in your life, you think.  You’ll have to move the wedding up–Ominis and Anne have been insistent you wait until the next spring, once the frost has thawed and you can have a May wedding.  You’d really rather not host your newborn at your wedding, so late autumn will have to do.  Perhaps you can sneak away to Feldcroft for the weekend with a few friends in tow, take an unbreakable vow in the center of the hamlet–

“I’m home,” You hear a voice call out.

Dropping the ladle, you wipe your hands on your skirts as you rush to greet Sebastian at the fireplace.  Skidding into the living room, your smile falters when you see the gruff expression on his face.

“What’s wrong?”

Sebastian shakes his head, hanging his coat on the rack next to the fireplace. “Long day,” he mumbles, sliding past you to go straight into the bedroom.  You feel a bit deflated–Sebastian is rarely one to avoid your touch, but tonight is different.  You hear the bathroom door slam, the faucets turning as he fills the bath.  From what you can remember, Sebastian is only ever this grizzly after a bad day at work.  Either bad news on a case, a perpetrator that’s gotten away, or the most dire, losing a colleague. 

You tiptoe up to the bathroom, rapping your knuckles against the wooden door. 

“Come in,” Sebastian sighs.

You slip past the door, kneeling next to the clawfoot tub.  Sebastian is submerged in steaming water, bubbles dissipating in the water.  Work has been particularly stressful–he’s gone a few days without shaving, dark stubble coating his chin.

“What’s wrong?” you ask gently.

Sebastian lolls his head back against the edge of the tub, staring at the ceiling. “We’ve got a real pain of a case on our hands.” he mutters, tilting his head to look at you.  It’s an unspoken question, one that doesn’t need asking–he should know by now that nothing he ever shares about his cases ever leaves the four walls of your home.

“International dragon breeding ring.” He states, the water splashing as he pulls up his knees under the water. “Seems like they were trying to raise some Hebridean Blacks in the highlands.  Clearly didn’t know how to handle their dragons, so the crew was burnt to a crisp by the time we got there.”

“That’s horrible,” you shake your head.

Sebastian wrinkles his nose. “I never, ever want to see bodies like that ever again.” he gags. “The worst part is now that they’re all toast, we’ve lost our only lead to the larger gang.”

“I’m sorry.” you pout, stroking his hair.

Sebastian sighs. “It’s okay.  I’m just quite tired for the day; I had a sausage roll on my way home from the office, I think I’ll just tuck in to bed early tonight.”

He notices you visibly shrink, knitting his thick eyebrows together. “What’s wrong, pet?”

“I made dinner.” you say sheepishly. “Your favorite.”

Sebastian gives you a wry look. “I’m sorry, love.  Rain check?  I really do just want to get in bed.”

Sebastian can’t see the way your hand hovers over your abdomen under the lip of the tub.  And while you’re desperate to share the news, you’d rather do so when he’s in a better mood. The last thing you want is the happy memory of your pregnancy announcement being marred by troubles at work.

“It’s fine, really.” you assure him. “I’ll pack it all up so you can take it to lunch tomorrow, bring a bit for the boys.”

Sebastian snorts, beads of water dripping from his arms as he lifts them out of the water. “I’m sure Everett and Andrew will love that.  Those two rarely ever see a home cooked meal.”  

“I’m not sure what those boys would do without me.” you say sarcastically. “Ominis was right–I have to stop feeding them so often; they’re coming back week by week like stray cats.”

“Oh please, you love babying the two of them.” Sebastian rolls his eyes. 

The word has your smile faltering, and Sebastian tilts his head, giving you a sympathetic look.

“It will happen, you know.” he puts a hand under your chin, tilting it up towards you. “I know it’s upsetting that it’s taken this long, but it’ll all work out in time.”

“Oh, that’s not–”

“Perhaps we should wait until after the wedding,” Sebastian suggests. “I mean, that’s surely the more proper thing to do. Plan it out, do it the right order.”

You turn bright red, swallowing thickly; Sebastian really has no clue. “We’ve never been proper, the two of us.”

Sebastian lets out a low chuckle, eyes darting down to your lips. “No, I don’t think we have.” The pad of his thumb traces over your lips, slipping between them.

“Tell you what,” Sebastian breathes. “I finish washing up, and I meet you in the bedroom for a cuddle.”

“Something tells me we’re not going to be cuddling.” You raise an eyebrow, eyes darting down to Sebastian’s free hand, which has slipped underneath the water and between his legs. 

“No, we’re not.” Sebastian says, voice low and needy.  Your eyes flit down to the surface of the water, rippling with every stroke of his hand. “Get in the bed, now.”

You smile, biting down on your lip as you do what he says. After all, it won’t be long before two becomes three, so you want to relish these nights for as long as you can.

You wake up when Sebastian presses his lips against yours.  He’s never been very good at kissing softly–almost always, your fiance kisses you with enough fervor to wake you. 

“I’m sorry,” he whispers, nosing your cheek. “I wanted to kiss you before I left.  Got a message that I need to be in the office earlier than usual–all hands on deck.”

You open your eyes, blinking up at him.  He’s fully dressed in his suit, auror badge pinned to his coat pocket.  His work bag is at his feet, last night’s carefully wrapped leftovers next to it.  From the window behind him, you can see the sky is still black, a smattering of stars filling the sky.  It has to be four, maybe five o’clock in the morning.

“Send Everett and Andrew my love,” you yawn. “Tell them to enjoy the short rib.”

Sebastian snorts, mouth descending upon yours once more. “I’m starting to think you like them more than me,” he teases, nipping your lower lip with his teeth. “Have a good shift today.  I’ll see you at home tonight.”

You don’t follow Sebastian to the fireplace, instead electing to fall back into your bed for a few more hours of sleep before your shift at St. Mungo's. You’ll tell him tonight, you think, putting together the plan while you dress for the day.  Perhaps roast chicken and potatoes for dinner, and a cake with the good news on it.  You’re buzzing, eager to execute your plan once you’ve gotten home. So much so, you completely miss the owl sitting in the window, clucking at you while you hum over your cooking.

It’s only when the owl threatens to bite you that you pick up the note, deflating the minute you see the DMLE logo.  

Urgent case.  All hands on deck–we’ve been ordered to stay in the office until further notice; might be traveling internationally too.  I’ll send an owl when I know more. 

xx Sebastian

You shrug off your worries; this isn’t exactly unexpected. Given the high risk of Sebastian’s job, he’s often sequestered to the office or traveling for a case, sometimes days at a time. Perhaps the waiting will make your reveal all the more special.  You can picture Sebastian falling to the ground in front of the fireplace once you tell him after much time away from home.

After two days, you’re worried.  Come five, you’re irritated.  Ten days later, you’re thoroughly mad that this case has wrecked your plans.

It takes nearly all your willpower not to break down the doors of the auror office.  On the bright side, Sebastian knows well enough to reassure you of his good health via owl post. Per usual, he can’t say much, except that there had been a considerable development in their dragon breeding ring case.  He’s been bunking up with Everett and Andrew in the office (the two bachelors also sending thank you cards for the feast you’d cooked) and he’s quite miserable without your company.

Sebastian’s owl post gives you some peace over the miserable days, especially considering the onset of your morning sickness.  It seems that since your brain has accepted the concept of being pregnant, your body has decided to follow suit.  You’re lucky that there are plenty of other mothers working at St. Mungo’s beside you, each of them offering a sympathetic smile or a packet of crackers once you've emerged from the bathroom.

You’re just returning from a trip to the porcelain throne, wiping the corner of your mouth, only to hear your name once you pass the ward matron desk.

“Oi, ministry man is looking for you,” one of your fellow healers says, jerking their thumb back towards the ward matron’s desk. 

You whip your head around to see a sharply dressed man standing at the desk, seemingly annoying your ward matron.  He’s older and gray; there’s something familiar about his face.

It clicks–he’s Sebastian’s superior officer.

The blood drains from your face as you walk towards him, hands clenched in fists. “Can I help you?”

He says your name, bowing his head slightly. “Augustus Green, we’ve met before. You’re Sallow’s fiancee, aren’t you?”

“Is he alright?” you ask, panicking.  You instinctively press a hand to your stomach.

“Oh goodness, I should’ve started with that,” he admits sheepishly. “Sallow is fine, no cause for alarm.  I’m here to summon you for an appearance at the office.”

“Summon? Me?” you gape up at him. 

“All the information is here,” Green says impatiently, handing you a manilla folder. “And a letter for your matron to excuse you from your duties.”

It’s all a blur from there, the ward matron clicking her tongue disapprovingly when you hand over the letter.  With that task out of the way, Officer Green starts herding you to the closest floo flame.  It feels as if he’s got you by the back of your robe, pulling you into the green fire. You grip the manilla folder tighter, swallowing down the vomit in your throat.  Floo travel is safe while pregnant, but certainly not comfortable. 

When your eyes open, you’re standing in an unfamiliar office.  You know where you are though–the ministry, the DMLE office specifically.  The furnishings match Sebastian’s office, except this one is clearly larger.  There’s a woman organizing files in the corner, quickly standing to greet Officer Green on his return.

“Marlene, put a kettle on, why don’t you?” Green huffs, walking over to his chair. “And summon the task force team.  Meeting in my office.”

You cross your arms over your chest–it’s Marlene of all people, one of Sebastian’s former flings.  She gives you a phony smile, eyes flitting down to the diamond ring on your left hand.

Well, you suppose the crestfallen look on her face makes the trip to the ministry worthwhile. 

As Marlene passes through the doorway, a group of aurors makes their way inside.  A few unfamiliar faces, but then three of your favorites–Andrew Larson, Everett Clopton, and Sebastian.  Sebastian is giving you a proud grin, chest puffed out.  You haven’t seen him in nearly two weeks, and his once sparse beard is now growing thick.  It takes all of your self control to not throw yourself into his arms, relieved to see that your fiance is still well after being away for so long.

The aurors line up against the wall, awaiting instructions.

“I’m sure you’re wondering why we’ve asked you here,” Green states, folding his hands on his desk. “We’re assembling a task force team to work on a sensitive case. We normally wouldn’t operate on foreign soil, but considering the abductee is a British citizen–”

“Pardon, abductee?” You interrupt. 

“Yes, details will be in your briefing.” Officer Green states, pointing down to the folder in your hands. “Our officers have spent the last few months tracking the smaller units of an international dragon breeding ring.  They’ve gotten sloppy since we’ve started apprehending their top breeders, and have since retreated to their home base in Norway. A British citizen has been abducted by the ring leaders of the operation, likely due to her expansive knowledge on Norwegian Ridgebacks.  Miss Sweeting is a well known magizoologist–”

Your throat goes dry, and for the first time in days, your stomach is churning from anxiety, not from morning sickness.

“Miss Sweeting was abducted from her home–sign of forced entry, her wand and personal effects were found littered throughout the property.  Our auror department has uncovered evidence that leads us to believe the criminals are keeping her on hand with the dragons to provide guidance in their breeding efforts.”

Officer Green carries on. “The task force comprises several of our best aurors, some of which were classmates of Miss Sweeting and have a personal interest in her safety. You were recommended to join the task force by Officer Sallow,” Green continues. “Considering your relationship to Miss Sweeting, and experience with dragons in the past.”

You blink at the senior officer, mouth agape. “But I’m only a healer, sir.”

“A healer will be extraordinarily important for a mission like this,” Green points out. “With the imminent danger–”

“You saved half the department once,” Andrew Larson blurts. “Rather have you on our team if we’re facing dragons and dark wizards in one go.”

The room dissolves into nervous giggles as Green swats at Andrew.  Sebastian, however, is completely unphased, smiling at you as if he’s signed you up for a field trip, not a mission across international lines to save one of your best friends.  If Poppy wasn’t the one in danger, you probably would’ve wrung his neck by now.

“As I was saying before Mr. Larson so rudely interrupted,” Green rolled his eyes. “We need a healer on the task force. We will pay you for any days missed at your regular shift, and a bonus upon return.  That, and all accommodations in Norway–”

“I’m sorry, Norway?” you ask, dumbfounded.

“Yes, where we believe the perpetrators are keeping Miss Sweeting to assist in the breeding of their dragons.” Green interjects, tapping the briefing folder again. “We have a portkey scheduled to depart in an hour. Please review your folder beforehand.”

You hardly listen to the rest of the briefing.  The rational side of your brain is screaming at you to tell the truth–you’re pregnant, the healers just said to limit international travel, and you hardly think you should be jumping into battle with a dragon breeding ring in your condition.  Is portkey travel even safe during pregnancy?  

Your thoughts scream at you as Green dismisses the room; before your brain even registers movement, your feet are scuffling towards Sebastian’s office. He’s standing at his desk, two large duffle bags side by side. You shut the door with trembling hands.

“I took the liberty of purchasing some things you’ll need,” he says cheerfully, digging through the bag. You hold out your arms as he pushes a pair of trousers and a shirt into them. “Some wool stockings and your base layers, it’ll be cold, that’s for sure…” he trails off.

“Sebastian,” you swallow thickly. “Sebastian, I–”

“I’m sorry if this is coming across as a surprise.” Sebastian shucks off his jacket, unbuttoning his shirt. “That, and for being gone for so long.  It was all hands on deck with the case; I’ve been bunking up in here with Larson and Clopton.  You have no idea how badly I want to be home.” he groans, slipping a new undershirt on.

Your brain is frazzled. You want to be angry at him, to be worried, but your heart is thumping in your chest.  It’s been too long since you’ve seen him, and you’ve been worried sick.  Your body’s first instinct is to wrap your arms around him and inhale his familiar scent.

Sebastian laughs when you do so, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. “I know, Pet. As soon as this is done and dusted and we’ve got Poppy home, things can go back to normal.” he murmurs against your hair.

You nuzzle your face deeper into his chest, inhaling his cedar cologne. “Are you sure this is safe?  I'm not in dueling shape.” you admit sheepishly.  In your youth, you would’ve charged into combat headfirst without warning–years of working in St. Mungo's has you untrained.

Sebastian laughs, his beard tickling your face. “Safe? You’re the best duelist I know–besides myself, of course. You’ll be fine.  Besides, we mostly need you for healing purposes.  That magic of yours works a trick on burns.  Remember–”

“In the Undercroft, when you accidentally blew up a barrel of mead.” you snort at the memory.  It hadn’t been funny then, watching Sebastian writhe on the floor from the burns.  You’d fallen at his side, instinctively using your ancient magic to siphon the pain. He was healed in a matter of seconds, and it set you on the trajectory to become a healer.

“Precisely.” Sebastian licks his lips. “That, and to be with Poppy. I’m sorry, I wish I could have told you sooner, but we weren’t allowed to say.” He pulls a wand from his desk–Poppy’s wand, white ash wood with a swirling handle–and presses it into your hands. “You should hold on to it, for safekeeping.  You can give it to her once we rescue her.”

You look up at his chocolate brown eyes, lids dotted with freckles.  You want to tell him–you need to tell him–

“What’s wrong?” Sebastian pouts. “You’ve always said you wanted to come to work with me.”

You open your mouth, trying to find the words, but you can’t.  You’ll be fine, you think.  What’s one more trip?  Besides, you’ll do anything to ensure Poppy is safe.

“I don’t like your beard.” you blurt.

Sebastian roars with laughter, rubbing his jawline. “I knew you’d hate it; Clopton and Larson were egging me on to grow it out.  I don't have a razor here; I promise I’ll shave it when I get home.  Now, come on, let’s get you dressed all warm and snug. We've got a portkey to catch.”

“I’m sorry–I thought I had your size memorized.” Sebastian mutters, helping you unlace your corset.

You wince, a low hiss coming out from your lips as you let the offending garment fall to the ground.  Assessing your torso in the blurred mirror, you can see lines from the whalebone pins left in your skin.  Your hand instinctively rubs over your stomach silently apologizing to the babe inside of you for being squished all afternoon.  

“The portkey couldn’t just drop us off here, at the inn?” You complain, slipping one of Sebastian’s clean shirts over your head.  

“We couldn’t draw attention to ourselves, you know that,” Sebastian tuts. “Besides, I thought you enjoyed hiking?”

“I enjoy hiking when it's planned.” you groan, falling back against the bed. “Almost thought I’d ask Andrew to cart me up the mountain.”

Sebastian starts unlacing your boots, letting the heavy shoes fall to the floor.  Your woolen stockings are peeled off next, laid out next to the fireplace to stay warm.  He carefully unlaces and works your trousers off your legs, draping them over a stool.  

“I am sorry.” Sebastian says, climbing into bed next to you.  Your muscles are sore, legs like jelly after the long trek.  Knowing this, he pulls your legs into his lap, working his thumbs into your calves to massage them. “I thought it might be fun.”

You snort. “Fun? Sebastian, we’re on a mission to find Poppy, who's been taken hostage by dragon dealers. That hardly sounds like fun.” Your head falls back against the pillows, which have definitely seen better days.

“I know, but they were looking for a healer to join the force, and I knew you were the right person.” Sebastian reminds you, nimble fingers moving down to massage your sore feet. “Besides, it’s kind of fun to work together, isn’t it?  Reminds me of the good old days.”

“Ah, yes, the good old days.” you parrot back to him. “Us, running like vigilantes around the highlands. Stealing bounty from old chests, blasting away at acromantulas.”

“What can I say?  We were spirited teenagers.” Sebastian chuckles.  His fingers slow, making deliberate circles in the arch of your foot. “I wanted us to have one more good adventure before we settled down, got married.”

You prop yourself up on your elbows, raising an eyebrow at him. “We won’t have adventures after we’re married?  Thanks for the vote of confidence.” you jest.

“You know what I mean,” Sebastian shrugs. “After we’re married and we’ve got kids in the house, we’ll be boring old parents.” he wrinkles his nose. “Might as well bank up a few good stories for the children while we still can.”

Your smile falters. “Do you really think we’ll be that boring?”

“We’ll have to be, won’t we?” Sebastian sighs. “I’ll probably take some time off after the baby is born, of course.  And when I’m back to work, I’ll ask to be reassigned to low risk cases.  So, in the meantime, I’ll enjoy all the tough stuff while I still can.”

You should tell him.  You really do need to tell him.

You don’t.

He sounds so glum, trading in a life of adventure and danger for nappies and lullabies.  Perhaps his interest in fatherhood was just spurred by the renewal of your relationship. It makes sense that he’d start thinking more clearly now that it’s been nearly a year together.  Merlin, maybe he’s already bored of the little life you’ve created together–the house on a hill, far from the bustling city.  The logical side of your brain reminds you that Sebastian loves you, dotes on you, hand and foot (quite literally, the man is still massaging your feet).  Yet the irrational side of your brain, likely flooded with pent-up hormonal energy, reminds you that he hasn’t been home in days . 

“You still love me, right?”  Gods, the words sound pathetic coming out of your mouth.

“Of course I do.” Sebastian’s eyes widen. “How could you think otherwise?”

“It’s nothing.” you say quickly, waving him off. “Just a stupid intrusive thought.”

Sebastian clicks his tongue, pushing your legs from his lap.  You stay, perched on your elbows, watching him move in between your legs. With a mischievous smile, Sebastian picks up your foot, pressing a kiss to your ankle.

“Then it seems I’ll have to work extra hard to put those thoughts to bed,” Sebastian whispers lowly.  His tongue laves circles up your calf, eyes trained on you while his mouth moves up, up, up your thigh.

“You colleagues are in the other room.” You croak.

“We have magic, don’t we?” Sebastian teases. “ Silencio should do the trick, unless I’ve made you forget basic spellcasting.”

“Shut up,” you mumble, trying to hide the laugh bubbling in your throat.

It’s against your better judgment, but you reach over to the side table to grab your wand.  Flicking it at the door, you mutter the silencing charm under your breath.  The room suddenly feels like a bubble, no noise from the outside world permitted in, and vice versa.

“We can’t go crazy,” you whimper as Sebastian takes a deliberate lick, pressing a kiss to your center. A moan slips from your mouth, head crashing against the flat pillows. “We have to wake up– oh, yes, right there –ugh, Sebastian, we have to wake up early.”

Sebastian grins, teeth grazing your skin lightly as he presses a languid kiss to the crease of your thigh. “I won’t keep you awake too long.” he promises, before diving back between your legs.

Sebastian knows you–almost a little too well, you think.  Somehow he knows the sex you need is tender and soft, his hips rocking into yours while he whispers how much he missed you, how he longs to come home to your bed.  His hand ghosts over your abdomen, but you quickly pull it up to your lips, pressing soft kisses to his worn knuckles. When he comes, face buried in your neck, he can't stop telling you how much he loves you. It isn't long before Sebastian drifts to sleep, lightly snoring against your skin with his arms wrapped around you. His beard tickles your shoulders, but you’ve missed him too much to push him away.

You flick your wrist at the candles, quickly extinguishing the fire.  With only pale moonlight streaming in through threadbare curtains, you pull the blankets up to your neck, focusing on Sebastian’s steady breathing.

Steady. Unwavering (except the time that you broke up…well, he’s more than made up for that by now). Dependable, devoted. Sebastian is going to make the most amazing father. You shut your drooping eyelids, reassuring yourself that Sebastian will be excited when you finally get to share your news.

“I'm freezing.” you spit out, shivering from the cold air.

“We’ve been waiting for hours,” Everett complains, recasting an anti-fogging spell on his glasses. “Larson should’ve made contact by now.”

“We have to stick to the plan,” Sebastian bites back. “Larson was to make contact with the dealers, send a signal leading to his location.  If he didn’t by sundown, we’d abandon the post and go back to the inn.”

While Sebastian had kept you busy the night prior, Andrew had gone undercover.  Your sweet Ravenclaw friend is unassuming, and quite the actor it seems–he reported at breakfast to say the breeders had given him coordinates to a meeting point, where he’d be given the opportunity to purchase a Norwegian Ridgeback dragon egg. Poking at his poached egg, Andrew assured the group that he’d send a patronus signal for back up once he’d identified the location of the operation.

Waiting for Andrew’s signal is excruciating, the better half of the day spent sitting around a now nearly burnt out campfire. You were pacing back and forth in the snow, drumming your fingers against your throat.  While you’re sure Andrew can hold his own (he has for years now, Sebastian tells you–a surprisingly astute duellist, much improved from his days in Crossed Wands) you hate the idea of your cheerful blond friend being alone.

Sebastian stands up, brushing snow from his pants. “It’ll be dark soon,” he muses. “We should start heading down to the inn soon.”

Your eyes widen. “And leave Andrew?”

“Andrew is an auror, Pet.” Sebastian reminds you. “One of our best.  He’ll be just fine getting down the mountain on his own.”

“If he needed back up, he would’ve called by now.” Everett tries to assure you, wiping his fogged up glasses again. “Gosh, I hope we’re only here another day or so–I fear my chomping cabbages are dead by now, I’ve been away from home for too long.”

“We can’t possibly leave him,” you gasp, stomping your foot in the snow. “I won’t allow it.”

Sebastian opens his mouth to argue with you, but clamps it shut when the sky darkens.  

“Take cover!” he roars, grabbing you and tackling you to the snow.  You gasp, curling into him as he rolls you behind a collection of boulders. In seconds, Everett has joined you.  His mouth is hanging open, staring up at the massive dark spot soaring above you.

“Sweet mother of Merlin,” Everett gasps. “Is that–”

“A Norwegian Ridgeback,” Sebastian grunts, tucking you in tighter to his chest. “A young one, based on the size, but still dangerous.”

Peeking over Sebastian’s shoulder, you can see a young dragon soaring overhead.  You can see the cracked collar, chains hanging from its neck. The poor beast is clawing at the collar, a high pitched squeal coming from its mouth as it flaps its wings. When its jaw opens, you can see the flames curling up from the back of its throat.  Sebastian backs into you, an arm curling around your waist to keep you shielded from the heat. 

“Protego!” you hear a familiar voice scream. 

“You’re fucking kidding me,” Sebastian spits out.  He peeks around the boulder, eyes nearly bulging out of their sockets as his jaw falls open.  You stand to sneak a peek, equally shocked at the sight before you.

Andrew is running, bloodied with gashes in his clothes.  His blond hair is matted down and you’re not sure if it’s from blood or melted snow.  Wand extended, Andrew casts a shield charm to protect himself from the fire and waves of green curses.  His arm is looped through a short brunette’s, her wrists bound in goblin-forged silver cuffs. It’s Poppy, who is yelling at Andrew to avoid hurting the young dragon. Several breeders are chasing after them, firing curse after curse on Andrew’s heels. 

“A little help here!” Andrew roars, waving his arm the second he spots his colleagues.

The aurors break into action with little hesitation. Sebastian and Everett waste no time sprinting towards their partner. It feels like you’ve barely had a second to blink before the flashes of red and green start clashing around you.  Sebastian jumps to avoid a well-aimed shot, rolling to the ground before firing a countercurse at his attacker. His hair is covered in powdery snow, cheeks red from the cold as he fires off a defensive spell set.  You watch him, mouth agape, barely registering his voice calling out your name. 

“Get Poppy out of here!” Sebastian hollers. “Both of you, before the dragon circles back!”

Right, you think, shaking out of your stupor.  You run, feet slowed by the snow, towards your friend.  She grabs your hands as soon as you reach her, staring at you in a panic.

“What the hell are you doing here?” Poppy shrieks.

Over her shoulder, you can see one of the breeders teeing up a spell.  With ease, you raise a boulder from behind him to knock him down the hill.  In doing so, you’ve drawn attention to yourself, the other breeders realizing that you’re a bigger threat than anticipated.

“Here for you,” you assure her. “Come on, let’s go.”

“You shouldn’t be here,” Poppy panics. “I got your letter, the morning they broke into my flat–”

“That’s the least important thing right now,” you screech, firing off a countercurse; the rebound is so strong, both of you are nearly knocked off your feet.

“But the baby!” Poppy shouts. “This isn’t safe!”

“Now is hardly the time to be scolding me,” you argue, panting as you channel your ancient magic to disintegrate one of your attackers. “The baby will be fine, I’m more worried about you!”

“What the bloody hell are you two talking about?”

Now you’ve really let the cat out of the bag, you think between spell combinations. You pause in place, braid whipping through the wind, to see Sebastian staring at you across the way.  His eyes are as wide as saucers, blinking rapidly as his mouth opens and shuts.

“Congratulations, guys!” Everett yells sarcastically, glasses now fully fogged from the fighting. “Think we can discuss this another time?”

“You’re pregnant?” Sebastian shrieks.

“I’ve been trying to tell you,” you pant, dodging a curse, “but you’ve been gone, I only just found out the day before you left–”

“We have to get you out of here!” Sebastian panics, running towards you from across the field. “You’re pregnant!  This is unsafe!”

“We don’t have time for this conversation!” You roar, casting confringo on the poachers drawing near.

“Careful with the heat, it’ll be bad for the baby!” Sebastian chides, but you roll your eyes.

“You got me into this mess, Sallow!  Both messes, I might add.” You say through gritted teeth.  It’s true–he’s the one who got you pregnant in the first place, and then volunteered you to join a covert mission. Honestly, you might find his rapid shift in attitude hilarious if you weren’t being rained down upon by flames and curses.

“We had sex, is that bad for the baby?” Sebastian asks. “For him? Or her?  Oh Merlin, what if it’s a girl–”

“I’m sorry,” Everett raises a brow, sidestepping a diffindo that had been thrown his way. “The two of you were shagging last night when we were supposed to be preparing for a mission?”

“You two are disgusting!” Andrew spits, casting stupefy on his assailant. 

“Can someone please figure out a way to get me out of these cuffs?” Poppy roars, shaking her still shackled wrists. “And does anyone have my wand by any chance?”

You curse under your breath, wiggling Poppy’s wand out of your too-tight breeches. She grasps her wand with both hands, wincing as you channel your ancient magic into snapping the metal.  Her wrists are rubbed raw from spending weeks in chains, but she shakes them out as she reacquaints herself with her wand.

The sky goes dark again; the dragon circles in the air, flapping wings causing the entire battle to cease while everyone braces in the snow.  

“You need to get out of here,” Sebastian hisses. “I’m begging you–”

“And leave you here, with this lot and the dragon? Absolutely not.” you snap. “The father of my child needs to see another day.”

“Hello!” Everett screams. “There’s still a fight going on here, if the two of you haven’t– ouch !”

Both of you turn your heads to see Everett laying in the snow, groaning.  One of the breeders is stomping towards him, twirling his wand in hand.  Nostrils flared, you push Sebastian aside and aim your wand.  With barely even a flick, the man is thrown back against the snow, a disconcerting crack ringing through the air.

Not your boys , you think.  You plan to see all of these aurors back to London, alive and without injury.

“Poppy,” you yell, firing basic casts at the approaching breeders. “Can you secure the dragon?”

“Working on it!” Poppy’s voice is muffled, her wand between her teeth.  You can see her, your little firecracker of a friend, trying to scale the rocks to get closer to the dragon.  As the country’s leading expert on dragons, you hope she’ll have the dragon under control before long. She’s babbling towards the beast, cooing reassuring words as it snorts steam.

“Bertie, calm down.” You hear Poppy cluck at the dragon, her hands held high. “It’ll be alright–”

Andrew, who has foregone his wand, punches one of the breeders squarely in the nose. Shaking his hand out, he turns back to Poppy. “Bertie? Bertie, who you were droning on about while I was trying to rescue you, is the damn dragon?” he yells. “The one who was trying to kill us just a bit earlier?”

“I was alone!” Poppy shrieks back. “You try being alone with just dragons for two weeks, you would start naming them too!  And he was not trying to kill us, he’s just afraid–”

“Shut up!” Sebastian hollers. “Can you two behave?”

Sebastian is shouting at both Andrew and Poppy, and doesn’t see the breeder approaching from his left.  His arm is raised, a knowing smirk on his phase as he brandishes his wand at your fiance. Sebastian is too preoccupied with scolding his subordinate to notice the flickering red tip of the breeder’s wand, teeing up what you can only imagine is the cruciatus curse.

You don’t have time to shriek.  Instead, you feel your anger bubbling up through your fingertips, the telltale signs of your ancient magic starting to spill from your hands.  You’re running, wand arm raised, about to attack when you feel the wind knocked out of your lungs.  Your body betrays you, losing balance as you crumple to the snow with no control.  There’s a sharp ache in your head, ears ringing as you try to make sense of what’s going on. As if life is stuck in slow motion, you see a sizable boulder plop into the snow next to you.

A fucking rock.  You’ll be damned if you let a rock take you out.

Trying to stand, your knees buckle beneath you.  The sharp ache in your head starts pounding, and you can’t stop blinking your bleary eyes. Fingers grazing your temple, you’re shocked at the slippery sensation on your fingertips.  Droplets of bright red dot the pristine white snow, and despite your fuzzy vision, you can tell that it's your own blood on your hands.  

“Oh, shit.” you slur.

It feels like you’re underwater (a sensation you know well from the Keeper’s trials during your fifth year).  Things are slower, soupier almost.  You can see Sebastian’s head turn when another auror shouts at him, and he narrowly misses a flurry of red bolts aimed at him from one of the attackers.  Skidding in the snow, Sebastian fires a counter curse that knocks the breeder off the edge of the cliff.

Someone is shouting your name, and Sebastian turns his head.  You think you’ll remember the look of horror on his face forever, a twisted grimace as he dashes towards you.  You want to sit up, but your body says otherwise–your head is pounding, and perhaps it’ll feel better if you sleep.  Sebastian is patting your cheeks with cold hands, repeating your name like a prayer as you hear the commotion ensue behind the two of you.

“Stay with me,” Sebastian pleads. “I’m sorry–”

You don’t hear anything after that. 

When you open your eyes, you’re in St. Mungo’s.  Specifically, the intensive care unit, your own ward.

“What the hell?” you mumble, leaning up on your elbows.

“Oh thank Merlin, you’re awake.” Sebastian sighs with relief.  You turn to look at the brunette next to you–his head is in his hands, dark waves unkempt and tangled from sleep. His beard is the longest you’ve ever seen it, shaggy and uncombed. After taking in a deep breath, he launches himself to your bed, fingers pressed against your pulse.  Once he’s determined that you are in fact well, he presses a firm kiss to your forehead.

“Is the–”

“The baby is alright,” Sebastian smiles. “Healers have been checking on you two probably twice an hour for the last two days.”

“Two days?” you gape. “I’ve been out for two days?”

“It was a nasty hit.” Sebastian shudders. “I was so worried about you, I haven’t been able to sleep,” he admits.  The chair next to you has become his little nest; bundles of blankets are tossed on the floor, a hospital grade pillow squished into the back of the chair.

“What happened?” you wince as you sit up. Sebastian immediately places more pillows behind your back, handing you a cup of water from the night stand. “Is everyone alright?”

“Everyone is alright,” Sebastian assures you. “Everett broke his arm, but that was quick to mend.  Andrew looked like a champion prizefighter, that’s for sure.  I think he likes the black eye, he thinks it makes him a bit more popular amongst the ladies at the pub.”

“And Poppy?” You ask between gulps. Merlin, you really must have been out for two days–you’re positively parched.  Before you can set the cup down, Sebastian casts aguamenti and you’re happily sipping once more.

“Safe and healthy.” Sebastian promises. “Let’s just say Bertie the dragon really bonded with Poppy while they were imprisoned together.  He made quick work of the breeders.”

You blink at your fiance, brows furrowed as you try to make sense of his comment.  When he bares his teeth and clicks his jaw open and shut, you cover your mouth with your hands.

“He ate them?” you gape. 

“Well, it was us or the breeders.” Sebastian scoffs. “Better them than me.”

“I suppose that’s why the dragon was chasing after Andrew,” you muse. “He thought Andrew was trying to kidnap Poppy, not save her.”

“Spot on.” Sebastian laughs. “Speaking of, there are some people who’d like to see you.”

The door opens, and your friends spill through the door as if they’ve been waiting right outside the entire time.  The normally stoic Anne runs to you, clutching your forearm. Ominis stands over her, pressing a long kiss to the top of your head.  

“I can’t believe the two of you.” Ominis shakes his head. “Battling a dragon in the first trimester.”

Sebastian furrows his brow. “Hey–I wouldn’t have asked if I’d known.”

“And I would’ve gone regardless.” You declare, pulling Sebastian’s hand into your own.

Andrew, Everett, and Poppy file into the room after your sister and brother-in-law. Everett has his arm in a sling, while Andrew still looks like hell.  Poppy has a few bandages on her hands, but she easily slides down at your side next to Anne.  The brunette girl gives you a teary eyed smile, mouthing her thanks.

“First mission and you get taken out by a damn boulder.” Andrew laughs.  His knuckles are bruised and cut, black eye starting to go green around the edges. “I thought you’d be an asset to the team, but you ended up a liability.”

“Oh shush,” you wave him off, pressing your hand to the soft edge of your belly. “You needed me.”

“That we did,” Everett says softly, squeezing your hand. “Thank you.  I would’ve been clobbered off the cliff if it weren’t for you.”

“I can’t believe you volunteered to come along pregnant.” Andrew blurts. “Are you insane?”

“It was for Poppy.” You admit, winking at your favorite magizoologist. “I’d do anything for her.”

“Well, I must demand that you start relaxing.” Poppy declares. “You shouldn’t lift a finger for the rest of your pregnancy.  If Sallow volunteers you for any missions, Bertie will take his head–you have my word.”

“Rest assured she won’t be doing anything but relaxing from now on.” Sebastian says firmly, crossing his arms. “I’ve already had a discussion with the ward matron about your leave of absence–”

You hold your hand up. “Sebastian, I’m not going to stop working. You know that.”

“You’re going to take a few weeks off to rest,” Sebastian continues. “Trust me, the matron told me they’ve had enough of your puking.”

You lick your lips, eyes roving the room as you take in the scene.  It’s all of your favorite people in one room, the people your child will know best.  You imagine your child growing up with them–visits from Aunt Poppy and her wild beasts, dinners with Andrew and Everett. You swallow thickly imagining Anne and Ominis doting over your newborn, and tears begin to prick at the corners of your eyes.

“Are you tired?” Sebastian’s voice brings you back down to ear, his gentle murmur in your ear.

You nod, squeezing his hand.

“We’ll all be off, then.” Ominis announces. “Anne and I will get started on planning your elopement.”

You wipe at your eyes, which are now properly tearing up. “You don’t need to plan our wedding.” You let out a watery laugh.

“You’ll have the best wedding.” Anne assures you. “Certainly better than ours; I still remember Sebastian’s dates fighting on the dance floor–”

“I think that’s a story for another time,” Sebastian interjects hastily. “My wife is tired, she should get some rest.”

The motley crew files out of your hospital room, each promising to follow up with you in the days to come.  Ominis has to practically tear Anne away from you, your sister-in-law spouting questions about wedding cakes while her husband pushes her out the door.  He winks an unseeing eye at the two of you, his best friends, before the door clicks shut.

Immediately, Sebastian is climbing into your bed, wrapping his arms around your waist. 

“We’re having a baby.” Sebastian says softly, his large palm flattening over your belly. “You’re having our baby.”

“We’re having a baby.” You echo, turning to him in the bed.  The hospital beds at St. Mungo’s aren’t big by any means, and Sebastian will have a backache if he sleeps with you–but it doesn’t look like he’s planning on going anywhere.

Sebastian’s eyes are trained on you, hungrily taking in every detail of your face. “I can’t wait,” he garbles out, eyes watery. “You’re giving me a family.  Gods, I’ll never be able to make it up to you.”

“Make what up to me?” You ask gently, pressing a palm to his cheek.  Tears start streaming down his face, sniffling his freckled nose.

“For everything . Dragging you into a mission with a fucking dragon,” Sebastian laughs. “For tackling you on the mountain. Being gone for nearly two weeks, not giving you the opportunity to tell me.  For wasting so much time–for not making you my wife earlier. Merlin, if I hadn’t been such a bonehead five, six years ago, things could’ve been so different–”

You press a fingertip to his lips. “I won’t have them any other way,” you whisper. “I’m so happy. You’re happy, aren’t you? You’re not upset?”

Sebastian laughs harder, shaking his head. “I couldn’t be happier. I’m going to be a father.” he says gleefully. “How could I possibly be upset?”

You chew on your lower lip. “The night I meant to tell you, you said something about us waiting until after the wedding. And at the inn, you seemed so worried that we’d be boring once we had a baby. Rather thought I was ruining your plans for us.”

Sebastian shakes his head. “I can't believe I ruined the surprise.  Darling, I was being an absolute cad that night; I can't believe I didn't see it coming.  You'd made my favorite dinner, and I turned it down for a sausage roll.” he says dramatically, shaking his head. “And I’m sorry about what I said at the inn. Pet, you and I could never be boring. Not while we’re together.”

“And you’ll be okay getting married earlier?” you ask nonchalantly, drawing circles on his chest. “Even if it wrecks our plans for a spring wedding?”

“I’ll marry you tomorrow if you let me.” Sebastian murmurs. “Fuck the plans. The only thing that matters to me is our family.”

You pull Sebastian into a hug, face nuzzling into his beard. He’s whispering into your ear–promising to shave his beard, to finish the flooring in the second bedroom as soon as he’s back home. He’ll take a few weeks off now that this case is over, and perhaps he’ll apply for low-risk cases now that he’s a father. He talks about your wedding, about how you can still get married in the center of Feldcroft if he can conjure enough tents.

Your eyelids are drooping, head resting against his chest when you think back to the topic of weddings. 

“Earlier when Anne was talking about her and Ominis’s wedding–you had two dates?” you ask sleepily. “What was that about?”

Sebastian lets out a roar of a laugh, pressing his lips against your hair. “A story for another time.  It’ll make you laugh, I promise.” he assures you. “I’ll tell you when you wake up.”

You nod, shutting your eyes.  Tucked into Sebastian’s arms, you fall asleep against his chest.

[darch7995]

𝑹𝒆𝒒𝒖𝒆𝒔𝒕𝒆𝒅 𝑩𝒚: @fitzs-trained-monkey

𝐃𝐈𝐒𝐂𝐋𝐀𝐈𝐌𝐄𝐑: 𝐓𝐮𝐦𝐛𝐥𝐫 𝐨𝐧𝐥𝐲 𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐨𝐰𝐬 𝐦𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐮𝐩𝐥𝐨𝐚𝐝 𝟏𝟎𝐌𝐛! 𝐓𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐚𝐟𝐟𝐞𝐜𝐭𝐬 𝐚𝐮𝐝𝐢𝐨 𝐪𝐮𝐚𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐲 - 𝐰𝐚𝐭𝐜𝐡 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐘𝐨𝐮𝐓𝐮𝐛𝐞 𝐯𝐢𝐝𝐞𝐨 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐛𝐞𝐭𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐪𝐮𝐚𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐲!

𝐒𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐘: ► 𝐵𝑎𝑠𝑒𝑑 𝑜𝑛 "𝑇ℎ𝑒 𝑃𝑒𝑟𝑓𝑒𝑐𝑡 𝐺𝑖𝑓𝑡," ↳ 𝑊𝑟𝑖𝑡𝑡𝑒𝑛 𝑏𝑦 @writing-intheundercroft

𝐎𝐌𝐈𝐍𝐈𝐒'𝐒 𝐒𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐀𝐈: ► 𝐶𝑟𝑒𝑎𝑡𝑒𝑑 𝐵𝑦: @sleepywitchlory

𝐌𝐔𝐒𝐈𝐂: ► 𝐻𝑂𝑁𝑁𝐸 - 𝐵𝐴𝐶𝐾 𝑂𝑁 𝑇𝑂𝑃 ► 𝑁𝑎𝑡 𝐾𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝐶𝑜𝑙𝑒 - 𝑇ℎ𝑒 𝐶ℎ𝑟𝑖𝑠𝑡𝑚𝑎𝑠 𝑆𝑜𝑛𝑔 (𝑀𝑒𝑟𝑟𝑦 𝐶ℎ𝑟𝑖𝑠𝑡𝑚𝑎𝑠 𝑇𝑜 𝑌𝑜𝑢) ► 𝐻𝑎𝑣𝑒 𝑌𝑜𝑢𝑟𝑠𝑒𝑙𝑓 𝐴 𝑀𝑒𝑟𝑟𝑦 𝐿𝑖𝑡𝑡𝑙𝑒 𝐶ℎ𝑟𝑖𝑠𝑡𝑚𝑎𝑠 ► 𝑇𝑟𝑎𝑣𝑒𝑙 𝐹𝑎𝑟𝑒 - 𝑊𝑖𝑙𝑙𝑖𝑎𝑚 𝑅𝑜𝑠𝑠 ► 𝑀𝑖𝑐ℎ𝑎𝑒𝑙 𝐵𝑢𝑏𝑙𝑒́ - 𝐶𝑜𝑙𝑑 𝐷𝑒𝑐𝑒𝑚𝑏𝑒𝑟 𝑁𝑖𝑔ℎ𝑡 ► 𝑁𝑖𝑐𝑒 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝐴𝑖𝑟𝑦 - 𝑃𝑎𝑡𝑟𝑖𝑐𝑘 𝐷𝑜𝑦𝑙𝑒

[sallowslady]

I need to share this too 🥹 @writing-intheundercroft, this is so beautiful 🤍

[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.

[writing-intheundercroft]

At Home - S. Sallow

AO3 Link

Word Count: 5,311

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

Summary: Sebastian drags you out of bed on a Saturday to look at a possible new home.

A/N: Two things: one, I'm now two for two on fics featuring a sink sex scene. Two, I put Sebastian through enough angst in my long fic that I need to write him happy and domestic in another universe. Enjoy!

Taglist: @legacygirlingreen @kaylasallow @eternalremorse @happyaccidentsonly @sallowslady @legendoftortor @sissyisawitch @rainychocofroggy @blueraineshadows @moonstruckmoony @beezlub @loving-him-was-red13

“I don’t know if I like the lighting here.” You frown, looking out the small kitchen window. It’s minuscule, and you’re looking straight out into a brick alleyway. “I think a kitchen should be bright, shouldn’t it?”

Sebastian leans against the door frame, his hand on his face. “Pet, you’re killing me here.” he says, a tortured look on his face. “This is the eleventh house we’ve looked at. At this rate, we’ve turned down half the available housing in London.” 

“I know, I know.” You fuss, crossing your arms. “But it needs to be just right.  I don’t want to lease just any house, you know.”

“I do know, but we’re going to burst out of my place any day now,” Sebastian grumbles. 

That was the truth–your belongings had overtaken the space, and there was not a free spot in his bachelor pad for anything else. One night, you argued over all the books Sebastian had accumulated, while he griped about your ever growing wand handle collection taking over the dresser. Sebastian had tripped mid-argument, causing a fit of laughter on your end while you patched up his sprained ankle.

Only after you’d kissed it better did Sebastian declare that it was time to find a new place.

“But it makes no sense,” Sebastian whines. “You still have your flat, and you never sleep there.”

“Who’s fault is that?” You raise an eyebrow. “ Someone isn’t comfortable sleeping there. You know, it’s just a bed.”

Sebastian shifts uncomfortably in the doorway. He’s refused to sleep at your place ever since he found out your ex-fiance purchased your bed frame and mattress for you. “I won’t sleep in some other man’s bed.” he says firmly. 

You roll your eyes, walking towards him. “It’s not another man’s bed, it’s my bed. You really won’t, not even if I want you to?” You pout, drumming your fingers against his chest.

The brunette gulps. “No.” he says, and that’s that.

Your fingers curl around his suspenders. “Then, we need to find a house with proper lighting.” you announce. “And a good kitchen.  This one is rubbish.”

Sebastian rolls his eyes. “Add that to the list of requirements then,” he drawls. “We’ll be looking for houses for the next five years.”

The two of you leave the house hand in hand.  After having settled into your new day shift at the hospital, you finally felt comfortable taking more vacation days. You must admit, Sebastian forcing you to take more time off has been good for your mental health.  Your brain has never felt clearer, and for once in your life, you’re planning more than a month ahead. Summer is rapidly approaching, and Sebastian has suggested a few places for the two of you to go away on a proper adult holiday. The last time you were together, you could hardly spare two galleons outside of your rent between the two of you.  Now that you’re grown with successful careers and your own bank accounts, Sebastian is planning your first vacation as a couple.

As a couple.  Those words sound sweet in your head.

It’s been nearly eight months since the two of you reunited, three since Sebastian was promoted at the department of magical law enforcement.  It honestly feels like things can’t possibly get any better for the two of you. Nothing’s changed, not really . You still have your own life, your friends, your job–just now, you have Sebastian again. Every day you wake up beside him, you pinch yourself, thanking the gods it's still your reality. 

Until you trip over Sebastian’s boots, which are littered all over the bedroom floor. 

“It’s impossible to find a nice house in London,” you complain.  “Either they’re too small, not enough storage, terrible lighting.  Surely we make enough money between the two of us to afford a nicer place.”

“Well, location is a tricky bit.” Sebastian admits. “Somewhere close enough to the ministry for me, but close enough to St. Mungo’s for you. And while we do have a fair bit of galleons, I would like to save them for something more important.” 

“More important?” you tilt your head in confusion.

“You’ll see,” Sebastian smiles devilishly. “Shall we get lunch?”

He runs his thumb over your hand as he swings it back and forth, guiding you through the bustling streets of London.  You made a mental note to pester him about what he was talking about later, but for now, lunch sounds good.

It’s Saturday, and you have the entire weekend off for once.  You were looking forward to sleeping in, but Sebastian decided to make a racket, tugging your ankle from beneath the sheets.

“Seb, please.” you whine. “I just want to sleep.”

“But I have a house I want you to see,” Sebastian says impatiently. 

You groan. “Seb, it’s Saturday.  Can’t you see it without me?” you grumble. 

Sebastian shakes his head insistently. “No, you have to come.  You’ll want to, I promise.”

Sebastian is tapping his foot the entire time you dress; you opt for a simple blue day dress, scandalously forgoing your corset for comfort.  Your messy hair is left down and wavy, tying up a bow at the crown to keep the unruly pieces from flying into your face.  Your impatient boyfriend all but drags you to the fireplace as he mumbles out the name of your intended location, tucking you into his arms.

You open your eyes to bright sunlight.  Blinking, you realize you’re no longer in London–in fact, you’re somewhere that looks awfully familiar from your school days.

“Where are we?” you breathe, taking in the fresh air.  Tall grass sways in the wind around the two of you, and Sebastian is walking up towards a house, turning back with his hand outstretched. You take his hand, and he helps you hop over a small stream.

“Marunweem,” Sebastian yells over the wind, smiling back at you. “Plenty of real estate around here–they’ve rebranded it as an up and coming village.”

You recall memories of exploring Marunweem Lake with Sebastian in your school years; it had always been rather desolate, considering neither of you were licensed to apparate and the only path to the hamlet was through a goblin mine.  But the two of you had always had the time of your lives traversing the southern coast.  You can picture your younger selves in the air, zipping around on borrowed school brooms together.  

“Ominis found the listing,” Sebastian continues, beckoning you forward. “The Ministry has done quite a bit to rehabilitate the area.” Sebastian guides you up the hill, unlatching a well worn gate.  The stone cottage is teeming with ivy, crawling up the walls. The storybook tiles on the roof make the house look like it’s straight out of a muggle fairytale. 

You take a deep breath as you wave your wand, unlocking the door.  The wooden floors creak beneath your feet, but otherwise, the place is in good condition.  The walls have been replastered, the fireplace cleaned and sparkling. The only furniture is an old looking settee and a bear skin rug (a tad gauche for your taste). You make your way through the living room to the kitchen.  Its positively bathed in light, a large bay window over the sink looks over an enormous yard.  You practically run up to the sink edge, admiring the view.

“So much light,” you gasp. “Seb, it’s perfect.”

“You are,” Sebastian suddenly appears behind you, pressing himself against your back.  You can feel his breath tickling your ear as he wraps his arms around your body. “The perfect view to watch our children play in the yard, don’t you think?” he murmurs into your ear.

Your breath catches as he stretches out his hand, his palm flat against the lower plane of your stomach.  He presses it; almost wishfully.  Your heart flutters at the idea of growing his child inside of you.

The two of you haven’t gotten around to talking about children yet. You both were far too young to even think about parenthood when you first got together, and even when you broke up. You had talked about raising children with your former fiance, and it had always been part of the ten year plan. You explained that you had wanted to wait until you were older, more stable in your career.  Eric had always found that answer unsatisfying, but now you knew the true reason for your hesitance.  

You hadn’t been talking about parenthood with the right person.

“Children, you say?” The word sounds so foreign coming out of your mouth.

You can practically feel the way Sebastian’s cheeks burn. “Only if you want,” he shrugs, but you know he’s serious.  The way he’s pressing his hand against your womb is very much serious.  

You look back out into the yard, picturing toddlers with unruly brunette hair giggling and running about.  You can even picture Sebastian chasing them, whirling them in the air as you prepare an afternoon tea. Building snowmen in the backyard, teaching them to fly on toy brooms.  Growing old with Sebastian at your side, with the family you’ve built together.

It's sickeningly domestic, but it feels right.

“I would,” you whisper. 

Sebastian wastes no time spinning you around, a big goofy grin on his face. “Really?” he asks, completely lighting up.  He plants his hands firmly on your waist, fingers digging into your skin. His eyes flit down to your waist when he realizes you’re not wearing a corset, squeezing you through your dress.

You laugh, placing your hands on his chest. “Really.”  

Sebastian pulls you away from the kitchen. “Good, because there are plenty of rooms in the house,” he announces, moving towards the stairs. “There’s three rooms on the second floor, and the master bedroom is here on the main.” he explains, tugging your arm to show you around the house.  The bedrooms first; they’re decently sized, enough for twin beds and toys.  The main bedroom has enough space for several wardrobes, which you’ll be needing for all your clothes. The bathroom has a giant clawfoot tub, and you can envision the two of you wrestling a toddler for a bath in it.

“I was thinking, we could use a spare bedroom as my office for now.” Sebastian says as you two walk back into the kitchen.  He’s clearly been thinking about this a lot longer than you’d realized. “The baby will sleep in our room for the first couple of months–”

“The baby?” you raise your eyebrow. “For months?”

“Of course,” Sebastian huffs. “Jorkins sent me this article about babies, said it’s best for their brain and magic development to stay close to us–”

“Sebastian,” you choke out, “have you been telling your coworkers that you’d like to have a baby?” 

Sebastian pauses, turning bright red. “Too much?” he asks, running a hand through his hair.  His hair is slightly messy, a few pieces sticking up in the back.  He usually did his hair quite tidy for work, but you loved when he left it undone on the weekends.  It reminded you of him as a teenager; you’d always flatten down his cowlicks for him.

It’s your turn to blush. “No, I just–I just didn’t realize you were ready.”

“Pet, I’ll be ready when you’re ready.  You'll be the one doing all the hard work anyways, the least I can do is a bit of research.” he says, grabbing your hands.  He pulls your palm to his warm cheek. “I just want to prepare myself, that’s all.  You know I don’t have my parents around to ask these questions, so I’ve been asking a few of the dads at the office how they’ve managed–”

Sebastian doesn’t have enough time to finish; you’ve properly launched yourself onto him, breathlessly kissing him.  He’s mad, you think, to start preparing for your pregnancy before even presenting the idea to you.  But at the same time, it's incredibly alluring.  Sebastian already dotes on you, and the thought of him worshiping you as you grow a human is tempting.

In short, the idea of Sebastian as a father is sexy.

“I was hoping you’d react this way.” Sebastian says, a shit eating grin gracing his freckled face as he embraces you.  You gasp as his hips roll against yours.

Sebastian is blatantly hard in the middle of an empty house.  You can feel his erection digging into your hip, turned on by all the talk of you possibly getting pregnant.  While you had been peeved that morning at him for dragging you out of bed, you’re thankful to have seen the house.  And considering you’ll be purchasing the home with him, you think what’s about to happen next is excusable.  The house had to be christened at some point.

(Perhaps Sebastian’s attitude is rubbing off on you.)

Sebastian’s eyes are burning into you as you start unbuttoning his jacket.  He licks his lips excitedly as you shuck it to the ground, going slack jawed as you start working off his suspenders. Stepping back, you put your hands on your hips, cocking an eyebrow at the normally shameless man in front of you.

“Am I going to do all the work then?” you tease.

Sebastian wastes no time–he never does.  He rushes forward towards you, pulling you in for a hot, searing kiss.  You let out a wanton moan as his tongue starts tracing circles on your neck, tugging at the buttons of your dress.  He all but tears it off, leaving wisps of blue fabric in his path of destruction.  

“Can’t wait–need you now,” he wheezes, tugging your undergarments down. You can hear the buttons snapping as he tears off his shirt. You laugh, which turns into a gasp as his fingers circle against your core, dipping into your wet center.  He’s nudging your legs apart, fingers writhing inside of you as he runs his tongue over your bare nipple. 

“Sebastian!” you scold him, but you know it's in vain.  He knows your every desire, the spots that make you shake, and your head lolls to the side as he kneels before you, pulling  your legs apart further. His big brown eyes are looking up at you, pupils blown with pleasure as he places his mouth directly over your clit, sucking hard. 

“So fucking beautiful,” Sebastian murmurs against your sex. “Mmph, I can’t wait to be inside of you.” 

His fingers are pumping in and out of you, tongue flicking at your clit with desperation. Sebastian wants–no, he needs you to come on his face. You grab a fistful of his messy brown hair and the tugging only encourages him to press his face deeper against you. You can feel the way his fingers grip your bottom, palming them as he fucks you with his hand. Your knees buckle as his fingers curl against that spot inside of you, the lewd sound of Sebastian lapping at your soaking wet cunt filling the room.

“You dragged me out here to have your way with me,” you stutter between moans. 

Sebastian pulls his face from you, smiling up at you.  His devious look and the glistening slick on his chin is enough to make you fold right then and there. “And so what if I did?” he asks, voice low.

You raise an eyebrow. “Are you trying to impregnate me right now?”

Sebastian licks his lips as he stands, unbuttoning his pants. You feel like prey as his eyes rove over your shaking, naked form. Stepping out of his pants and undergarments in one smooth move, you bite your bottom lip as you watch him pump his thick cock in his hand. 

“I brought you here with the purest intentions,” Sebastian murmurs.  Your back is pressed against the sink, and he turns you around roughly to face the yard again.

“Somehow, I doubt that.” you sigh.

He laughs, but his voice is raspy from pleasure. “I wanted to show you our future home,” he whispers.  His length twitches against your back and you shiver. “But you look so beautiful–and I just couldn’t stop thinking about how I’m going to take you on every single surface in this house.”

“Oh really?” you whimper.

Sebastian nods, pressing a kiss against your neck, guiding you to lean over the edge of the sink.  He nudges your legs apart again, pressing the tip of his length against your bare arse. 

“Really.  When we properly move in, I’m going to make you fall apart in every room.  Fill you with my seed over and over again until it takes.” he says through gritted teeth.  His hand falls to your stomach again, pressing tightly.

Your breath catches as you feel the crown of his cock slip against your dripping core. You’ve never heard him speak like this before–Sebastian had been your first sexual experience, and because you’d broken up when you were still rather young, the two of you had been rather vanilla.  The past few months have certainly pushed the boundaries, exposing you to new experiences with one another.  There have been some discoveries, but the sound of desperation in his voice is revealing a new kink for Sebastian. 

You’re certainly not complaining–the thought of him coming inside of you repeatedly with the full intention of seeing you swell with his child is doing something to you.  

Sebastian bites into your shoulder as he slowly slips his length into you.  You lean over the sink further, arms flying out to anything that will steady you as the brunette spears himself into you, slowly and intentionally. Sebastian palms your breasts with one hand, lurching over your back as he grinds his hips against your bottom.

“I want you to think about this moment, every time you’re standing over the sink.” Sebastian grunts, his other hand still pressed firmly against your belly. The cadence of his thrusts remain even and slow, entirely deliberate. “Want you to remember how good I fucked you here.”

You whine, arms reaching back to grip your lover’s hair. “ Fuck, Sebastian.”

Sebastian laughs breathily against your ear as he fucks into you. “So good for me, my beautiful girl.  Fuck, I’ve thought about this for months,” he admits. 

“About fucking me against a sink?” you joke.

“No,” you can practically envision him rolling his eyes. “Well, yes, that’s one of my fantasies. Mmph –specifically, about you, pregnant with my—our child.”

You let out an obscene sound. “You’ve been thinking about it for months?” The end of your question is punctuated with a sweet cry as Sebastian snaps his hips forward again.

“Since the moment we got back together,” Sebastian confesses. His arms tighten around you like a boa constrictor; you’re not sure how he’s still standing on two legs as he thrusts against you.  You break free from his clutches to lean forward, standing on the tips of your toes.  The move only makes him reach deeper within your cunt, both of you moaning in unison at the shift in angle.

“I’ve known–known since that moment it’s going to be you,” Sebastian pants. “ Fuck, I could do this all day. I could never have enough of you, pet.”

You whine, pushing back against him. Sebastian stumbles a few feet back, a shocked look on his face. Too much, the pleading eyes ask. 

Not enough.

You surge towards him, a blue wisp as you push him to the ground (your ancient magic somehow padding the two of you as you land on the creaky floorboards).  Sebastian’s eyes are wide open as you straddle him, placing kisses on his face. 

“I want you to see me,” you whisper, straddling him and positioning yourself atop his cock. Sebastian lets out a throaty groan as you sink onto him, inch by inch, until you’re fully seated on his lap.  You lean forward, pressing another kiss to his lips. “I want to look at you when you fill me.”

“Fuck, my love,” Sebastian whines. “You’re going to be so damn beautiful–gods, I can picture it now, watching you carry my baby,” he grits his teeth as you bounce up and down on his length. “I can’t wait to fuck you over and over again– ugh –until you’re properly full of me.” He starts pushing his hips up; you know how much he loves it when you’re on top of him, but he hates relinquishing control. He continues his loud praise, his voice cracking as he holds his hand lovingly over your stomach.

You can feel the coil of pleasure in your belly tighten, furrowing your eyebrows as your climax nears. Nearly there–almost–

You look down at Sebastian.  You half expect him to have his eyes shut in pleasure, nose wrinkling as he focuses on his finish.  Instead, you see adoring eyes roving up and down your body, a dreamy smile on his face.  He looks proud, you think, as his thumbs ghost over your waist and stomach. The look of pure devotion on his face as you grind against him sets you off, wailing as you climax on top of him.

Sebastian wastes no time once you’ve lost control.  He flips you over onto your back, his thrusts stuttering as he chases his own orgasm.  Sebastian presses a searing kiss against your lips as you feel him spill inside of you.  He bucks his hip against you a few times, gasping as he slumps against your body.  He’s still inside of you, but you can feel the hot release dripping from your cunt.

Sebastian lifts his face, giving you a sheepish smile as he rests his chin on your breasts. 

“Not exactly how I’d thought our Saturday would go, but I’m quite happy with it.”

You laugh, rolling your eyes. “Oh, don’t lie. You’re such a scoundrel.”

Sebastian nuzzles his face into your breasts, still sheathed inside of you. “Oh, but I’m your scoundrel.” he smiles proudly, pressing his lips against your chest.

The two of you are silent for a few moments, until you clear your throat. “You really do want to have a baby with me?” you ask, your voice a tad timid.

Sebastian gives you an honest, pure smile.  That was a quality you loved about him so much–he wore his emotions on his face, and you always knew when he was being truthful. 

“I want to have a family with you, pet.  I want us to have everything we’ve ever wanted, together.” he admits.

“Babies aren’t easy,” you warn him.  “It’ll be a lot of work, a lot of sleepless nights.”

“I never asked for easy,” Sebastian reminds you. “I’ve only ever asked for you.”

“I’m not going to stop working.” You warn Sebastian, pulling a blanket up higher over your chest.

“I would never ask you to,” Sebastian stokes the fire before settling back down next to you.  

It’s now late at night; the two of you have been at it all day.  Starved, you let Sebastian leave the house to search for provisions.  He ran down to the closest tavern, buying the two of you a feast to snack on throughout your impromptu stay. Meanwhile, you’d worked on the fire, conjuring some cushions and blankets from a small stash of moonstone you’d kept in your bag for emergencies. 

It’s dark, the rural sky filled with twinkling stars.  You’d missed the way the sky looked in the highlands, no city lights to pollute the view. The two of you are sitting naked in front of the fire, stuffing your faces with bread and cheese, washing it down with a local mead.  Given your spirited activities throughout the day, you decide it’s time to be adults and talk logistics.

“Someone will need to watch the baby.” you remind him, passing a knife so he can slather some compote on the bread.

“We could ask Anne?” Sebastian suggests, taking a big bite. “I’m sure she’d love to.  She always loved babysitting the children in Feldcroft when we were younger. She sure likes to pretend she raised me—y’know, on second thought, maybe not Anne then…”

“Do you think Ominis would mind? I think he’d be nervous around a child.  Besides, there’s no way Anne would apparate here daily just to watch the baby.” You lean back on your elbows, biting back a smile.  You never thought you’d be having this conversation with Sebastian, but it feels right; the most natural progression for your relationship.

“Well, I was planning on fixing up a floo connection in the fireplace.” Sebastian shrugs. “So we could get to work, and so Anne and Ominis can visit.”

“You really have thought of everything,” you say coyly. “Except to pack clothes for tonight.”

“To be fair, I hadn’t been planning on shagging you in broad daylight in the kitchen.” Sebastian snorts. “But I can’t keep my hands off you, pet.”

“I’m sure you’ll be singing a different tune when I’m the size of a graphorn.” you wrinkle your nose. Your hands ghost over your naked stomach, drawing circles over where a child may grow someday.

“Don’t say that,” Sebastian scolds. “You are going to be the most gorgeous mother. Merlin, I’m going to get hard just thinking about it again.” He sighs dramatically.

You roll your eyes, smacking his shoulder.  Sebastian winks at you, a slight blush growing on his face.  He pulls a cushion onto his lap, and you cannot believe the stamina on this man.

“At least let me finish my meal first,” you tease. 

Sebastian rolls onto his stomach, playing with the tassels on the blanket.  You resist the urge to slap his freckled bottom, instead trying to focus on the serious, adult conversation you were trying to have.

“So, we’re buying the house then.” You state, taking a bite of cheese.

“We’re buying the house.” Sebastian echoes. “When I saw the picture, I just knew.  Remember how we used to race our brooms here?  I couldn’t stop picturing us teaching our kids how to fly here, just like we did.”

You nod. “I always loved Marunweem.”  It’s the perfect place to settle down, you think.  Now it makes sense why none of the houses in London were quite right for the two of you.  No light, no yard, no room to grow.  Living in the highlands, you have fresh air, water nearby, and plenty of space for your future family.  You haven’t flown on a broom in a long time; you can’t wait to see how long it’ll take you to get to Hogsmeade from here. With a floo connection in your fireplace, getting to work won’t be so bad. 

Your hand absentmindedly flutters down to your stomach again. Everything will change with a baby in your life.  You’ve just gotten back into the groove with Sebastian, are you sure you want to change everything now?

“What are you thinking, pet?” Sebastian murmurs.

You lick your lips. “That everything will change once we have a baby.” you admit. “Are we ready?”

Sebastian scoots towards you, his fingers catching under your chin. “I’m ready when you are.” he whispers. “If you don’t want this right now, I’m completely fine with that. You say the word, we’ll go to the apothecary tomorrow and get the necessary potions.  I want you to want this for you, not just for me.”

Your sweet, thoughtful, loving boyfriend.  Sebastian is the perfect gentleman. You nod your head shyly; who knows, it could take ages for you to get pregnant. You don’t want to start getting too far ahead of yourself.

“So, I’ll send an owl to the seller when we get back to London.” Sebastian says, tangling his fingers in yours. “We should start packing.  We’re throwing away your bed, by the way.”

“Only if we throw away yours too.” You remind him. 

Sebastian laughs. “Buying a new bed—duly noted.”

“Is that why you were saving your money?” you ask, looking into the fire.  You remember the conversation the two of you had when you left the house tour last week.  “For a house?”

Sebastian laughs again, this time sounding a bit shy himself. “Oh no, surprisingly, the house was dirt cheap. It was for something else.”  He rubs the back of his neck nervously.

You furrow your eyebrows in confusion. “What for?”

Sebastian is as naked as the day he was born, but he rolls onto his knees to rummage through his jacket, which has been long discarded on the floor.  Your eyes widen as he pulls something small out of the inner pocket.

“Was going to ask after you agreed on the house, but we got side tracked.” Sebastian bites down on his lower lip, holding up the diamond ring. It sparkles in the light of the fireplace. “Will you marry me?”

You blink down at him, mouth slightly ajar.  

“I know it’s probably not as big as your last ring,” Sebastian admits, the tips of his ears red. “But I saw it in the shop and it made me think of you. And I thought, why are we waiting?  We’ve been apart for so long, and even though it’s really only been eight months, I know it’s you–it’s always been you–I know I want you to be my wife, I’ve always wanted to marry you–” he shakes his brown mane, rambling on. “If it’s too soon for you, I understand, I just want you to consider it; you don’t have to say yes right away—“

Your lips crash against his.  It’s so utterly on brand for Sebastian; forgoing the tradition of bending down on one knee, he’s stark naked next to you, rolling on the floor with a diamond ring in hand. 

“You arse, Sebastian Sallow.” you mumble against his lips.

Sebastian holds you tight; you can feel his closed fist on your back, holding the ring. “Can I be yours?  For the rest of our lives?” he whispers.

You laugh, pulling away to brush away a tear. “Of course,” you say breathlessly. “Of course I’ll marry you, you silly man.”

Sebastian’s smile is beaming from ear to ear as he slips the diamond ring onto your finger.  You slide back against his chest, holding your hand out to admire it.  He’s done well–a sparkling diamond set in gold.  The feeling is so unlike your previous engagement; then, you’d wanted to hide it from everyone, but now you simply can’t wait to shout from the rooftops that you’re the future Mrs. Sallow.  

You’d marry him tomorrow if possible, you think. As his hand brushes against your stomach, you think you might have to soon. The thought doesn’t bother you; it’s been blatantly obvious who you belong to since you saved him eight months ago.

“What a day it’s been,” Sebastian sighs, nuzzling your neck. “Bought a house, got engaged.  I can’t wait to tell Anne and Ominis; they’ll kill me when I tell them how I did it.” he chuckles.

“We’ll tell them first thing tomorrow,” you announce, curling up in his arms. “I just want to remember this, just the two of us.”

“Hopefully not for long,” Sebastian whispers, pressing a kiss to your temple.   

Sebastian is babbling about his renovation plans for the house, things he wants to tweak and change to make it just right for the two of you. You watch the fire crackle in front of you, nodding absentmindedly. This is the first memory in your new home, you think.  You’ll raise your children in this house, celebrate birthdays and holidays in front of this old fireplace. And one day, you’ll tell your children that you got engaged here.  A far more appropriate version of the story of course, when they’re older and able to understand.

Mum and Dad got engaged at home.  It sounds right. 

[writing-intheundercroft]

Tis the Damn Season - Garreth Weasley

Read on AO3

Word Count: 4,145

Rating: Explicit

Warnings: Smut, Oral and Vaginal Sex, NSFW, MDNI

Summary: You're back from five years of traveling the world and living in America, and Garreth Weasley invites you on a foraging trip down to his family cottage in Cornwall. You accept, having regretted not sharing your feelings when you last said goodbye. Or, the origin story of the Weasley knitted sweaters.

A/N: An exercise in writing smut turned into a delicious one shot for Garreth. I've clearly been listening to too much Taylor Swift.

“Welcome home!” Leonora giggled, over the sound of merriment in the Leaky Cauldron.  The class of 1893 was celebrating their five year reunion, with almost all of the graduates in attendance. Sebastian and Ominis had decided to sit out the reunion, staying at your shared home in New York, sending their well wishes with you as you boarded an ocean liner back to London.  Cross-Atlantic apparition had never been your thing.

“I’m glad to be back,” you smiled honestly. London had never really been home, not really.  You’d landed in a shared flat with the boys for a month after graduation before embarking on your world tour, but you hadn’t stayed long enough to make it feel like home.

Leonora and Poppy started detailing the whereabouts and day to day lives of your classmates. Violet McDowell had married, as had Grace Pinch-Smedley. Duncan Hobhouse was still painfully single and afraid of not just puffskeins, but now nifflers too after an incident with Amit Thakkar at the bank.  Leander Prewett was still gangly, and proudly wearing his ministry of magic badge for all to see.

“Oh, and Garreth–I’m sure you heard about him and Samantha Dale,” Leonora giggled, pointing across the room.

Your heart sank as you thought of him.  If you had wanted to know who Garreth had been dating while you were away, you would’ve brought it up yourself–now, you had to face the burning jealousy that bubbled in your throat as you thought of the pretty Ravenclaw who currently had her hand placed on his forearm.

Poppy sensed your emotions, elbowing Leonora to stop. “They broke up,” she cooed softly. “Months ago. They’re just friends now.”  Poppy cradled her swelling stomach, your future niece or nephew growing inside.

“Good for them,” you said blithely, trying to feign indifference.

“He’s coming over here.” Leonora whispered. 

You adjusted your skirt as Garreth cheerfully bounced over, red waves crashing over his head.  He’d grown since you last saw him, thicker and sturdier than the stocky teenager you’d last seen.  No wonder Samantha Dale had been interested in him, you thought.  He was impossibly handsome, with emerald green eyes that shined at whoever he spoke with.

“You’re monopolizing our New Yorker,” Garreth announced, cheeks tinged pink from the alcohol.

“Excuse us, then.” Poppy grinned, winking at you as she tugged Leonora away.

You smiled at your Gryffindor friend, who leaned against the bar next to you. “Are you having fun?”

He nodded eagerly. “It’s good to be back together again, you included.” he nudged. “I wish we could spend more time together before you go home.”

“What are you doing tomorrow?” You asked, trying not to sound too eager.

“Taking a trip down to my family’s cottage in Cornwall,” he sighed. “I need to gather some more horklumps for my potions.” Garreth took a lengthy sip from his beer, but his eyes never left yours. “How about you come with me?  Been a while since we had an adventure.”

You blushed. “Are you sure I won’t just get in your way?”

Garreth smiled earnestly at you. “Anything to spend a little extra time with you.”

So, you agreed.  Garreth spent the rest of the evening by your side; you felt smug when Samantha Dale stared at the two of you, and the little bubble of regret in your heart grew when Garreth leaned against you.  It had been five years since you’d said goodbye, and you wished you’d been honest about your feelings with him the day you both left Hogwarts.  

Instead, he’d given the back of your hand a chaste kiss, letting you go for the last time.

“Don’t mind the dust,” Garreth advised, pushing the door in. “Mum usually cleans up before we all get in for the holidays.”

You peered over his shoulder as he guided you into the cottage. It was dark, clearly uninhabited over the colder months. You settled the bag of horklumps the two of you had foraged on the wooden table as he walked around the kitchen, lighting candles. Waves crashed outside the walls of the cottage; you imagined how this place might look during the summer time.  Visions of Garreth and his many siblings running around the beach flashed in your head, leaving a lump in your throat.

“There,” Garreth said proudly, assessing the lighting situation. “And we can start a fire in the living room.  Will probably be too cold to sleep upstairs anyways.” He led you to the living room, a small den with two loveseats opposite one another, and a stone fireplace in the center.  

“You just had to drag me on a foraging trip before a snow storm,” you teased.  

“What can I say? You’re an awfully great helper,” Garreth said sweetly, casting his wand at the fireplace.  It lit up beautifully, and the room started to warm.

You hadn’t seen Garreth since you and your Slytherin boys had left school for a worldwide tour at eighteen. Eighteen became nineteen, and then twenty.  Suddenly, London no longer felt like home, and the boys wanted to go to America.  You’d tagged along, their third wheel as you’d been all throughout your Hogwarts years, because there was no one else in London for you; why not experience New York?

Correspondence from your classmates steadily declined as you all got older and busier.  Some had started families (Poppy was pregnant with her first child already) and others were dominating their careers (Imelda was quick on her way to captain of the Holyhead Harpies at twenty three).  

Only one remained constant.

Garreth Weasley never stopped writing it seemed.  A letter once a week; two in one week if he missed an owl.  You shared your adventures, and Garreth told stories of the little potions stand he’d opened in Diagon Alley. It wasn’t glamorous, he wrote, but it paid a living, and he was finally able to move out of his family home and into a modest flat he shared with Lucan Brattleby. Garreth was the one who’d arranged the five year reunion, right before Christmas time. He had convinced you to attend when Sebastian and Ominis declined, claiming everyone would be glad to see you.  He was there to pick you up from the dock when you landed, and had escorted you to the room you were renting for the week at the Leaky Cauldron. 

Garreth–the sweetest Gryffindor you’d ever known.

“You alright?” Garreth asked, breaking you out of your thoughts.  He stood before you with stacks of woolen blankets in his arms.  

“I’m fine,” you uttered. “Just thinking,” you shrugged, grabbing some of the blankets to spread on the loveseat. Garreth did the same, setting the one opposite you, and your heart sank into your stomach.

Why had Garreth invited you to Cornwall?  Was it really just to forage the finest horklumps for his potions?  You’d assumed that he wanted to get you alone, and that you could finally confess your long held feelings for him.  Instead, he’d made you stomp through the brutally wet weather, stashing the spiky bastards in your bags for his famed wiggenweld brews. Your heart had done flips when he assessed the weather, claiming it was too cold and too far to apparate back to London.  He’d offered up the Weasley family’s summer home for the night, claiming the two of you could catch up over a bottle of firewhiskey instead of trekking home in the snow.  You felt that familiar warmth in the lower part of your belly when Garreth held you by the waist as you walked down the dune towards Shell Cottage.  

You’d only spent the last six years of your life dreaming of a night spent with Garreth Weasley, after all, and now he was tucking the sheets onto the couch opposite of you, preparing for an innocent sleepover.  You couldn’t help the flutter of disappointment, both emotionally and sexually. 

“Well I think we should drink, and then we can properly catch up, just the two of us.” Garreth announced.  “Be right back.”

You let out a hot puff of air, sinking to your knees in front of the fireplace.  So much for seducing him, you thought.  

Garreth returned with two glasses and a near full bottle of firewhiskey.  He landed on his arse next to you and you smiled, remembering the clumsy, boisterous teenage boy he’d been when you last saw him.  That boy seemed to live inside this grown adult–all muscle, shaggy hair, and hints of red scruff on his chin. He pushed his hair back as he held up his glass to yours, clinking them softly.  You caught up on everything you’d missed in the past five years; how Leander was still his best friend, despite being an annoyance, and how Lucan was a messy roommate.  You told him about your travels around the world, how Ominis snored, and Sebastian was a terrible cook.

“How is Samantha Dale?” You asked, breaking the ice. “I heard you two dated.

Garreth chewed on his lower lip. “Not very long, I’m afraid.  We didn’t have much in common.” he wrinkled his nose.

“Oh,” you said softly. He seemed to want to leave it at that.

“How are Sebastian and Ominis?” Garreth asked tentatively.

You rolled your eyes. “Still a pain in my arse, after all these years. I love them, but I’m not sure how much longer I can live with them.” You sighed.

Garreth snorted. “You’re the one who chose to follow them.”

You hummed quietly, knowing he was right. 

“Is it weird?” Garreth asked after a long sip. “Living with Ominis when you and Sebastian are together?”  He was looking down at his glass, avoiding eye contact.

You sputtered the firewhiskey, coughing at the thought. “Me?  With Sebastian?” You wheezed.

Garreth knitted his eyebrows together in confusion. “Well, yeah.  Because you’re together, aren’t you?”

You laughed, and then laughed some more.  Tears were coming out of your eyes while Garreth gaped at you, eyes wide as saucers.

“How could you think Sebastian and I are together?” You wiped your eyes with the sleeves of your sweater, chuckling.

Garreth’s face was red. “I–we–everyone assumed!  You two were attached at the hip, and there was a rumor you two…” he trailed off, face as red as a tomato. 

“A rumor that we what?” You demanded.

“That you two had slept together in seventh year.” Garreth said sheepishly. “Leander told me.”

“Ah, yes. Well, that was a lie,” you chuffed. “I was only covering for him and someone else.  It was easier to let everyone think I was slag than for them to face the criticism.”

Garreth cocked his head. “What?  Who?”

You leaned back onto the carpet. “Let’s just say Sebastian and I have very different taste in sexual partners.  For example, I prefer men who are actually into me.  And two, Sebastian prefers Ominis.”

Garreth stared at you, blinking as he put two and two together. The blank look on his face disappeared, eyes widening in shock as he blushed.

“What…oh… oh .” he stuttered. “Wow.  I mean, I guess that makes a ton of sense. Good for them.”

You grinned, laying back on the floor with the glass balanced on your stomach. “Yeah, the two of them are pretty happy together. I think they’ll get married soon.  Bit loud, for roommates though.  I’ve been looking to find my own place.”

Garreth rolled onto his stomach, leaning his head on his hands as he laid next to you on the ground. “In New York?”

“New York, Paris, Buenos Aires…Madrid, Rome, or Berlin.  I could go anywhere in the world,” you declared, stretching out. “I’m a nomad now.”

“Not London?” Garreth asked softly.

You tilted your head to look at the redhead next to you.  His eyes were glistening, a perfect pout as he frowned at your list of locations. You fought the urge to brush his fiery hair out of his eyes.

“I’d come back to London,” you echo, “If there was something here for me.”

“Your friends are here,” Garreth reminded you. “Poppy, Imelda, Natty.”

“Poppy is about to have a baby,” you remind him in return. “Imelda is busy with Quidditch, and Natty splits her time between London and Matabeleland. There’s really no one else.”

“What about me?” Garreth’s voice was small. “I’m here.”

You dig your face into the carpet, hiding the blush that crept up your face. “You’re busy with the shop. I wouldn’t want to be in your way.”

Garreth suddenly pulled you close, his large hand traveling up to cradle your chin so you couldn’t hide your face. “You’d never be in my way.” he said firmly.

“I’m sure no woman would want me constantly hanging around you either,” you breathed.

His eyes flitted down to your lips. “I think you can tell from the way we’re sitting, there won’t be any other women,” he whispered.  His thumb ran over your lips, pressing against your pout.  Garreth rolled you onto your back, hovering over your body as he slotted a knee between your legs.

“You put the blankets on the other loveseat,” you whisper. “I didn’t think you liked me.”

“Because I wanted to be respectful,” Garreth added, brushing his nose against yours. “I’ve been thinking you were with Sallow for years , when I could’ve been doing this.” Garreth’s lips brushed against yours sweetly. “Fuck Leander–I knew I shouldn’t have listened to him.”

You gave a breathy laugh, putting an arm around his neck. “Yes, well, Prewett can fuck off.”

Garreth gulped. “I watched you leave, all those years ago, because I thought you were in love with Sebastian. I thought so long as you were happy, I’d be happy for you.”

“No,” you breathed in sharply. “I was in love with you .”

Garreth wasted no time pressing the weight of his body against yours.  You moaned into his mouth, letting him slip his tongue between your lips. He was everything you’d dreamt of and more since you were seventeen–hard muscle under soft warm skin, his freckled forehead pressed against yours.  You let your legs fall to the side, his thick body slotting between them perfectly–the most natural fit. 

“If I had known,” Garreth groaned into your mouth, “I would’ve asked you to stay.  I would’ve begged .”

“Gar,” you whimpered as he ground his hips into yours, arousal digging into your thigh.

“I would’ve been on my knees,” Garreth’s voice was gravelly now, pressing sloppy kisses against your neck. “Fuck, I would’ve had my mouth against your cunt, begging you to stay with me. It’s all I’ve dreamt of.”

“No use for regret now,” you manage to gasp. “No time like the present.”

Garreth grinned devilishly down at you as he pulled away.  He ran a hand through his hair, pushing it back from his face. “Tell me you want this.  Tell me, and I’ll give you all the reasons to stay.”

You licked your lips, nodding at him. “I want you.”

Garreth went to work–your sweater was torn off, trousers rucked off your hips as he stripped you of all your clothing.  His damn near tore off his own sweater, throwing it absentmindedly as he worked on the buttons of his pants. The room was warm–whether from your passion or the heat of the fire, you weren’t sure–but you stared up at the man, who’d tugged his pants and undergarments down far enough to free his length. You couldn’t help but admire the freckles all over his body, peppering his skin down to his groin. He pumped his deliciously thick cock in his hand, the tip glistening as he prepared himself.

“All this from a foraging trip,” you joked.

Garreth laughed, his whole body rippling.  He released his length, dipping down to kiss you again. “I promised I’d make the trip with your while,” he teased, fingers dancing over your core.  You shuddered, eyes shutting as he massaged your clit. “I intend to make good on that.”

His teasing words had you unbearably wet, the vulgar sound of his fingers pumping in and out of you filling the room.  Garreth laughed again, the sound music to your ears as he leaned down, pressing his lips to your nub.  He closed his mouth around it, and you let out a stuttered moan as he sucked.

“So sweet,” Garreth groaned. “Fuck, I’ve been thinking about getting you off for years.” Opening one eye, you saw him thrusting his hips against the air, desperate for friction.  You nearly stopped him to help his situation, until he curled his fingers inside of you.  Thankfully you two were the only ones in the house, with no neighbors nearby–the scream you let out rippled through the air, Garreth’s name rolling off your lips as he guided you through your orgasm.

“Reason one to stay,” Garreth announced, your slick glistening around his mouth as you panted. “I can do that, every morning and every night.”

Nothing could have stopped you from pouncing on him, pushing him back onto the floor.  He gave you his signature mischievous grin, hands falling to the side of his head. “Go on,” he said lazily, as you straddled his midsection. “You can do whatever you want with me.”

You scooted backwards, his impossibly hard cock brushing against you as you adjusted your body.  His hands slipped to your waist, holding you up as you took him in hand, pressing the tip to your cunt. Garreth looked so beautiful, pupils blown with pleasure as he stared at the two of you, about to join.

“If you hadn’t been listening to your stupid friends, this could’ve been yours years ago,” you breathed.

“I’ll never listen to another soul besides you, ever again.” Garreth rasped. “Only you.”

Garreth’s head tipped back, hitting the ground with a loud thud when you slid onto him.  His hands snaked up to your hips, holding you as you took him in, inch by inch.  He held onto you so tightly, he could’ve bruised you–not that you would’ve cared. You would’ve claimed those marks as a badge of honor, knowing they were left by him .

“Fuck, you feel amazing.” Garreth sputtered. “So–so good around me, so tight.”  

“Tell me to stay,” You whispered, slowly circling your hips as you leaned down to brush your lips against his. “Ask me.”

“Please,” Garreth moaned. “Stay.  Stay with me.”

You picked up speed, cantering your hips.  It was picturesque–the fire crackling in the background, Garreth spread beneath you, coming undone. You raked your hands down his chest, fingers catching on the red hair that dusted his chest.

“Beg me,” you demanded, planting your feet on the floor as you bounced up and down his cock.

“Come home to me,” Garreth whimpered. “Please, please, please come home.  I’ll do anything to have you here with me, always.” He gritted his teeth, pushing his hips upwards. “Gods, I’ll make you come every day, twice a day, for the rest of your life if you just stay.”

“More,” you breathed.  You weren’t sure what you were asking for–more of his pleas, or more of his body.

Garreth started pistoning his hips upwards, meeting you with every bounce.  You couldn’t help letting out the desperate cry that tumbled out of your mouth when he sprung forward, pushing himself even deeper into you.  You were now fully seated in his lap, grinding against one another as you raced to the finish line.

“I’ll worship you,” Garreth growled, peppering kisses on your face. “No need to run anymore. You’ll have a home–I’ll be home for you.” Despite his hand that had slithered up to your neck, pressing light pressure against your pulse, Garreth’s words were wholesome, sweet. He meant them, you realized.  It wasn’t just the sex, or years of pent up feelings coming out into the room. The realization that Garreth Weasley loved you, had loved you for all these years apart, made you feel as if you were about to snap–and without warning, you did.  

Garreth let out a guttural groan as you wailed atop him, cunt clamping down on him as you finished.  You pulled his face onto yours, kissing him as you rocked yourself back and forth on him, riding out your climax.  From his breathing, you knew he wasn’t far behind.

“Come in me,” you whispered. “Make me stay.”

Garreth choked as he let it out, his release filling you to the brim.  You clung your sweaty bodies to one another, gasping for air.  He gave you another sweet smile, brushing your sweaty hair out of your eyes. 

“Do you mean it?” he asked quietly.

“Mean what?”

“That you’ll stay this time.” His big green eyes stared down at you hopefully, peeking through his red lashes.

You bit your lip, pressing your nose against his. You thought of the last day at Hogwarts, how Garreth had held your hand, wishing you well on your trip.  How if Garreth knew the truth, he probably would’ve asked you to stay. And now, after all these years, the road you hadn’t taken and had always regretted was now an option.

“I��ll stay,” you assured him. 

Garreth gave you the goofiest, most hopeful grin you’d ever seen before pressing his lips against yours.  You were still joined, and you could feel him stiffening again inside you as you wriggled your hips.  You would’ve picked back up on your lovemaking, if it weren’t for the smell of singed wool filling the room.

“Damn,” Garreth cursed, gently pushing you off of him.  He crawled over to the fireplace, patting down on his sweater, which had a black burn mark in it. “Must have kicked it into the fireplace while we were…” he trailed off, giving you a sheepish look.

You laughed, pulling blankets from the loveseat. “I’ll knit you a new one,” you assured him. “It’ll be your Christmas present.”

Garreth rolled back over to you; he looked silly, six feet tall and rolling on the floor like a boy. “You knit now?” he asked, eyebrows raised.

“I had to pick up some hobbies,” you snorted. “Keeps me calm, considering my roommates are sex fiends.”

Garreth laughed, pressing a kiss to your hair. “Tell Sebastian and Ominis you’re moving out.” he said firmly. “I’ll tell Lucan to beat it, and we’ll have a home all to our own.  You can knit tea cozies and make sweaters for the cat.”

You leaned up, nosing his chin. “And sweaters for the family.” you whispered.

Garreth gave you a lazy, proud grin. “Especially for the family.”

You cuddled him in front of the fire, stroking his chest hair as you spoke freely about the future. You would have to write to the boys in the morning, you realized.  Perhaps they could send your clothes in trunks so you wouldn’t have to go back.  Ominis had been begging you to clean your room anyways, and Sebastian could finally walk around nude without you screaming at him.

You could spend Christmas with the Weasleys.  You could meet Garreth’s many siblings, as he’d promised long ago.  You’d knit him a sweater with your own hands, claiming him as yours. And perhaps, one day, you’d be knitting sweaters for your children, who’d run around the very fireplace you were currently laying in front of.

“What are you thinking about?” Garreth asked, stroking your hair.

“How nice it is to be home.”

The children ran around Shell Cottage, shrieking with laughter as they chased one another.  The Weasley wives sat in the living room, in front of the fire as they sorted through piles of yarn.

“Who started this bloody tradition anyways?” Hermione whined. “I’m rubbish at knitting.”

“It was Arthur’s great-aunt,” Molly Weasley laughed.  “She and Great-Uncle Garreth lived here when they first got married, and they started the tradition of new sweaters, every Christmas. Everyone in the Weasley family has followed it ever since. You know, she's actually got a very interesting story...thought she was a squib, didn't go to Hogwarts until she was fifteen...ended up becoming a world traveler before she settled down with Great-Uncle Garreth...” Molly trailed off, but no one else was listening over the sound of Celestina Warbeck over the radio.

Her daughter and daughter-in-laws sat on the floor, learning how to make sweaters for their babies.  Fleur had taken quite well to it, all of her children wearing knit sweaters in Beauxbatons blue, and it was now Hermione’s turn to learn, her daughter laying in a woven basket on the floor next to them, cooing softly.

“Thanks a lot,” Hermione grumbled, looking up at the photograph on the mantle. The young couple smiled for the camera, with Garreth Weasley proudly wearing the first Weasley Christmas sweater recorded in family history.