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forbiddenxfairytales · 2 months

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Trust Fall

• Author: forbiddenfairytales • Fandom: Hogwarts Legacy • Pairing: Sebastian Sallow x Reader • Warnings: 18+ Characters | NSFW | MDNI • Word Count: 23.5k

Summary:

A heady rush of defiance and determination surges through your veins, lighting up all your nerve endings like a live wire, and in your eagerness to rebel against the enchantment, you end up doing the complete opposite of Sebastian's request, hands sliding under the fabric of his cloak and slipping it off of his shoulders in one swift, fluid sweep, silk-lined wool pooling at his feet as you dive straight for his necktie, making a fine mess of the striped emerald and silver satin in your eager attempts to loosen it, fingers curling around smooth silk and giving it a gentle tug to urge him closer, unraveling until it's completely come undone, spilling into the hood of his cloak. The words kiss me ring out inside your head, desperate and longing, and for a moment, you can't tell whether it's his voice or your own imagination, caught up in a fantasy you've been playing out inside your head for the past two and a half years. Or: Sebastian Sallow teaches you how to fight against the Imperius Curse late one night, and in the process, some long-kept secrets are revealed.

✨ Read On AO3 or below the cut ✨

Trust Fall

After a whirlwind first year filled with dragon attacks and crumbling ruins, keepers and keys and hidden passageways, bonds of friendship forged in secrets and fire, daring quests and trying trials to prove your worth to wield an ancient form of magic only few can see, you should have expected your final year at Hogwarts would be anything but uneventful — and that suits you just fine.

Though, eager as you are to move beyond the confines of the castle and take the wizarding world by storm, there's a part of you that isn't quite ready to leave this place you've come to call home just yet, a part of you that's still got a few more noteworthy memories to make. Luckily for you, you've got a best friend who certainly knows how to make things memorable.

Ever since that thrilling excursion to the Restricted Section back in your fifth year, the two of you have been sneaking out of your common rooms almost nightly to go on all sorts of daredevil adventures — midnight waltzes through the Forbidden Forest in search of the legendary unicorn den, swarms of lacewing flies fluttering all around you like traces of dark magic; summer nights spent sneaking out of the sweltering confines of the castle and stealing away to the lake for a refreshing swim, diving down to its depths to see if you can catch a glimpse of a pod of mermaids or the eye of the giant squid, exploring cavernous grottos hidden beneath the waterfall, turquoise and sapphires made of pure light dancing across the surface of the water by the glow of your wands.

And of course, just last autumn, the night the two of you flew to the top of the Astronomy Tower to make wishes on a shower of shooting stars, bright sparks of silver and gold lit up in his warm brown eyes as he'd gazed up at them with a wide smile on his face and slowly counted to eighteen — one wish for each year he'd been alive. You suppose it would've been a truly breathtaking sight to behold, only you were too busy gazing at something far more beautiful, charting constellations of your own design in the sun-kissed freckles that dapple his cheeks and the bridge of his nose.

Luckily, you didn't have to wait long to get your second chance, a flurry of snowflakes swirling down from the sky the night the two of you snuck back up for an encore in celebration of your birthday a few months later, green and silver scarf wrapped around both of your shoulders to keep you warm as you blew out candles lit by an overzealous Confringo cast and shared bites of a slightly lopsided cake he'd insisted on baking himself (though you suspect the only reason it was actually edible was because he'd had help from the house elves.) You never told him, but it was the best birthday you've ever had.

That's just how it was with him. Sebastian Sallow had a way of making every moment feel like an adventure.

And tonight is no exception. An owl asking you to meet him at your usual spot wakes you from your bed at a quarter 'til midnight, and the next thing you know, you're following his Disillusioned form down a candlelit corridor, traversing well-worn paths you've come to memorize like the back of your hand. You assume you're off to the Undercroft as per usual, but the longer you follow, the more it seems Sebastian has other plans (either that, or he has no idea where he's going and is simply feigning confidence — wouldn't be the first time.)

"Sebastian," you hiss, but he doesn't seem to hear you, moving ahead at the same steady pace.

You try again.

"Seb—"

"Bash—"

"Oi, Sebastard!" you call out in a series of escalating whispers, running through your rolodex of well-loved nicknames until he finally hears you, a wrinkle in the hood of his cloak catching under the candlelight as he turns his head in your direction.

"Yes, darling?" he whispers back, and you don't need to see his face to know that he's smirking underneath his cloaking charm. You're suddenly very glad for your own Disillusionment Charm — even though you know he only does it as a joke, purely to rile you up, it still makes you blush up a storm every time he calls you that. Thankfully, you have a lot of practice brushing it off.

"Did my Quaffle hit you a little harder than I thought during last week's match?" you tease, relishing every opportunity to gloat that you were the one to score the final goal and lead your team to victory. "Undercroft's the other way entirely."

"Have a little more faith in me, darling. I know exactly where we're going," he reassures you, cocky as ever. "We're simply taking the scenic route."

"I wouldn't exactly call this scenic," you snicker, casting your eyes around the bare stone walls of the corridor you're currently sneaking down.

"Are you sure about that?" he counters, throwing open the unassuming double doors at the end of the passageway with a graceful flick of his wand.

What lies beyond steals your breath away, shivers akin to a haunting melody in an empty cathedral dancing across the back of your neck as you step into a corridor bathed in glittering golds, greens, and blues, kissed by silver in the light of the full moon spilling through wall-to-wall windows, a mosaic of painted glass depicting star-strewn skies over tempestuous ocean waves, fields of wildflowers dotted between snow-capped mountains, and twisting ivy redolent of the Scottish countryside curling in curtains around a sprawling scenery of a vibrant, lush green forest.

At the very end of the hallway, you spot a familiar fixture — the Serpentine Beast Window, leading right out into the middle of the Defence Against The Dark Arts Tower. How extraordinary — a whole corridor hidden inside of a window. Nearly three years here and you're still discovering new secrets about the castle, despite all your eager exploring back when you first arrived.

"Stumbled upon this little beauty earlier today and immediately thought of you," he says softly, and then quickly clears his throat. "I mean to say, I thought you would like it. And, judging by that little dip in the outline of your cheek that can only mean you're wearing your signature dimpled smile, I'd say I was right."

You turn to face him, exchanging one beautiful scenery for another, wondering just how many of your mannerisms he's got memorized, and could know to look for even when you're nearly invisible.

"And look," he adds with a smug smile, pointing toward the little alcove with the familiar clockwork fixture sat just beneath the Defence Against The Dark Arts classroom as the two of you peer around the corner. "You see? Told you I knew exactly where I was g—"

Without warning, a bat-like figure emerges from out of the blindspot of the alcove, and the two of you immediately fall silent.

"Impertinent piece of— I know there's a secret room hidden behind here, if I could just—" Headmaster Black curses, flitting agitatedly back and forth in front of the clockwork cupboard, muttering all manner of incantations to try and figure out a way inside.

In your panic, the two of you bolt back behind the corner you've just rounded, hastily squeezing into a little recess in the wall of the corridor. You've never been the most graceful of people, tripping over your own feet and nearly falling flat on your face in your eagerness to escape, but Sebastian is well prepared for it, reaching out to steady you, grabbing ahold of your waist and pulling you into the little hideaway. Next thing you know, you're pressed right up against him, caged between the cold stained glass wall and the warm, heavy weight of his rapidly rising and falling chest, heart beating like the wings of a wild thunderbird beneath it.

You've never been this close to him before, but even though he's nearly invisible, you've all but memorized his every feature, so it's easy enough for you to map them all out — from the sharp curve of his jawline to the devil-may-care sweep of his hair, to the plush pink pout of his lower lip, and— uh oh, you're definitely staring. And maybe it's just a trick of the light, but you could almost swear he was too, that little telltale flicker as his eyes snap back up to meet yours.

Ocean blues filter through his Disillusioned form as the aquatic landscape bleeds through from behind him, making him look as though he's one with the water, moonlight dancing along the edges of his outline, igniting him in a soft silver glow. Sebastian was right, it is very beautiful in here…though you'd wager it's less to do with the colorful mosaic and entirely due to the man standing in front of you, lips a mere breath from yours, close enough to lean forward and—

Oh, you really need to sort out your priorities. If you're not careful, your less-than-pleasant headmaster will catch the two of you sneaking around past curfew, and that's worth two poltergeists on a good day. This is no time to be thinking about your best friend's lips, wondering whether they might taste like the strawberry sugar quills he'd snuck the two of you after dinner, or the spearmint toothpaste he uses every night before he goes to bed…

The sound of distant footfalls headed down the opposite corridor snaps you out of your reverie, accompanied by the dulcet tones of your irate headmaster, evidently giving up in his attempts to break past the barrier into the place that's been your refuge for the past two and a half years, until all you can hear is the sound of the Defence Tower's crackling Floo flames and the frenzied staccato of both of you trying to steady your breathing.

"I think we're safe now," you tell him, whispers disguising your breathlessness.

"Hmm?" Sebastian replies with a distracted hum, gaze snapping back up from the shape of your lips for the second time in as many minutes.

Sebastian shakes his head, and for a few nerve-wracking seconds you hold your breath in fear that he can feel the sudden jump in your pulse as he leans in even closer in an effort to peer around the corner, before giving you a quick nod of affirmation and slipping out of the passageway, taking what's left of the air in your lungs along with him. The glass wall against your back suddenly feels a lot colder without Sebastian's warm weight against your chest, and for a brief moment you wonder whether you've gone mad, wishing that Black had hovered around for just a little bit longer.

"Yes, it would appear so…for now, at least," Sebastian grouses, lips twisting into a frustrated scowl. "But if Black's been sniffing around the Undercroft, then it's only a matter of time before he works out how to get inside, and that means it's as good as lost to us as a safe haven. I'm…not sure where else we could go," he says, sounding genuinely heartbroken by the notion of having to cut this little nighttime rendezvous short.

You're about to join him in his lament, when a spectacular idea comes to you.

"Oh!" you exclaim, quickly clapping a hand over your mouth when the outline of his eyebrows shoots up in alarm.

"Sorry, got excited," you explain. Sebastian's lips quirk up in fond amusement.

"Follow me," you whisper, taking him by the hand and leading him up the staircase directly across from the hidden corridor.

"Where—" he starts, but you cut him off with a cryptic, "You'll see."

Without another word, Sebastian follows you up several flights of stairs, twists and turns leading you past Charms and up through the Astronomy Tower, sleeping portraits tutting at the two of you along the way.

"Can't believe I didn't think of it before, but, well…I've only just discovered it, and we've always had the Undercroft, so I didn't think…aha! Here we are," you whisper excitedly as the two of you round one final corner, coming to a stop between a blank stretch of stone and a tapestry of Barnabas The Barmy.

Sebastian looks at you like you've gone mad.

"Darling," he drawls, the affectionate moniker dripping with the urge to tease you senseless. "That's a bare stone wall."

"Are you sure about that?" you ask in a mimic of his playful prodding from earlier, lips quirking up in a smug smile at Sebastian's gasp of surprise as an ornate doorway bleeds into view, sprawling across the stone wall like fast-growing ivy.

With a confident smile, you breeze through the door and into a spacious moonlit room decorated in a blend of botanical greenery and gothic architecture, ceiling enchanted to reflect the world outside, sky full of stars glittering through an array of blossoming vines suspended from the illusion of a skylight.

You haven't quite finished setting everything up just yet, so it's still a little messy in some areas (a seemingly endless struggle to coax the paintings and fixtures to hang just right) but you're fairly happy with what you've done with it so far. A handsome writing desk strewn with stacks of dusty old textbooks, half-finished essays, inkwells, broken quills, and a bowl magically enchanted to fill with fresh fruit whenever you enter the room (courtesy of your friend Deek, who'd noticed you missing meals one too many times because you were too wrapped up in one of your projects, and decided to intervene) sits in one corner, while a potioneer's station with a trio of burners and a potting table with nearly-sprouted dittany and mallowsweet sits in another, a whole empty corridor just waiting to be filled with anything your heart desires (your own private library, perhaps) nestled in between.

"Is this…the Room Of Requirement?" Sebastian whispers from beside you, awestruck expression on full display now he's no longer cloaked by his Disillusionment Charm. "I thought that was just a myth."

"So did I," you chuckle, lifting your own with a casual flick of your wand. "…until a fortnight ago."

Sebastian turns to look at you, eyes narrowing.

"Hang on," he says, tone changing from fascinated to guarded in the span of a few words. "You've known about this room for two whole weeks and you haven't told me?"

You can't but feel a little pang of guilt over how hurt he sounds.

"Come now, it's not like that," you assure him, reaching out to take his hand. Despite his sudden shift in mood, he immediately takes it, fingers slipping easily between your own, sighing as you rub soothing circles along his thumb.

"Like I said, I've only just found out about it," you explain. "Professor Weasley showed it to me after I spoke to her about wishing I had a quieter place to study for my N.E.W.T.s. — suppose she took pity on me, seeing as two out of three of my only years here have been plagued by nerve-wracking exams — let me turn it into my own private study, and decorate how I please. She made me swear not to tell anyone, but…well…you're my best friend, Seb, of course I was planning on telling you. I just wanted to wait until I'd finished setting everything up first," you finish, eyes narrowing at one of the paintings above your desk set several inches above the others at an odd angle.

"You are a wonder, you know that?" Sebastian laughs, warmth flooding back into his features as he gazes down at you with a fond smile, giving the palm of your hand an affectionate squeeze. "You've got all these professors fooled into thinking you're this saintly, rule-abiding student, yet here you are, sneaking out past curfew with the school's biggest mischief-maker to learn forbidden magic in a secret room you swore you'd tell no one about. We do so adore restricted areas, don't we?"

"Forbidden magic?" you repeat, arching a curious eyebrow.

"Why do you think I invited you to meet me tonight?" he says, lips curving up in an impish grin. "I've got another spell I'd like to show you."

Your eyes light up in excitement, eager as the day he taught you Confringo.

"But first, I think you owe a tour of your secret private study, starting with…whatever those are," he says, curious gaze flitting between three magnificent archways connected by an imperial staircase just across the way, slivers of gold waltzing between the branches of two majestic oak trees twisting around the entryway of the first, a lullaby of birdsong and gentle ocean waves echoing from the bright, hazy doorway of the second, climbing vines curling like serpents around water-logged trees cloaked in mushrooms and moss, casting shadows like Celtic filigree across the marble floor as the soft silver glow of magically-conjured moonlight spills down the steps leading up to the entrance of the third.

"Oh, you mean my vivariums?" you reply with an air of feigned nonchalance, smiling at the way he gazes at them with all the wonder of a small child discovering magic for the first time. "Forest, swamp, coastal, or grasslands — where would you like to start first?"

Sebastian turns to look at you, eyebrows arched in astonishment.

"You mean to tell me there's an entire ecosystem in each one of these?" he asks.

"Well, of course," you answer. "Each beast I've rescued deserves to feel right at home, wouldn't you agree?"

"You've got magical beasts in there?" Sebastian huffs out around a disbelieving laugh.

"Would you like to meet them?" you ask, lips curling up in a bright smile.

"Would I like to— is that even a question?" he asks, jubilant.

"Please, lead the way." Sebastian sweeps into a low, theatrical bow and is nearly knocked off his feet as you eagerly tug him by the hand toward the first of four doorways, stepping from the serene moonlit study into a lush green forest teeming with birdsong and honeybees, lit by the soft golden glow of warm summer sunshine.

"—should really check on everyone anyway. I set up an automatic feeder and a toy chest in each one, but they still need to be brushed on occasion so I can collect all their feathers and fur," you ramble, but your idle chatter is lost on Sebastian as he stands there in the middle of the forest clearing, gazing awestruck at a pair of unicorns — a bright white female and her little golden foal, coats adorned with a series of swirling spirals that seem to shimmer in the sunlight — trotting toward you in the distance.

"I— I can't believe it," he breathes. "After all that time we spent searching, you finally found the unicorn den."

"Do you remember that mooncalf den we found in the middle of the Forbidden Forest that one time?" you prompt, smiling at the memory of one of your many midnight forays.

"How could I forget? The way you cooed over them. Adorable," Sebastian teases you with a fond smile.

"Fifty paces east and we would've found it," you tell him, delighting in the impressed look on his face.

"Huh," he muses softly. "All that time, we were so close. Funny how often that seems to happen."

You watch his gaze drift down to your entwined hands and settle there for a moment, heart thundering to the beat of swiftly approaching hooves. Before you can think of anything to say, you're pulled out of the intimate embrace by the arrival of your unicorns, the bright white female nearly knocking you off your feet in her enthusiasm to greet you. She nuzzles at your shoulder before shooting Sebastian a curious glance, her little foal hiding behind her. You've never brought anyone else into your vivariums before, and she has every right to be wary after everything she's been through.

"It's alright. Sebastian is safe, I promise," you assure her in a comforting whisper, reaching up to stroke along the bridge of her nose. She huffs out a breath and closes her eyes, shaking her head in an effort to get you to reach a little bit higher. After a moment's deliberation, she approaches Sebastian, bowing her head and allowing him to touch her. Sebastian shoots you a wary glance, asking your permission. You give him an encouraging nod, and slowly, carefully, he reaches up to gently stroke along the same path, letting out a delighted laugh when she huffs and nuzzles against his shoulder in turn.

"This is Hazel," you tell him with a soft smile. "A lovely woman by the name of Betty Bugbrooke bonded with her when she was just a foal, came to visit her in the forest every week. But one night, they were attacked by wolves, and Hazel ran off scared. Betty worried she might be injured, or worse— that poachers might have gotten to her. She asked if I could find her, give her a safe place to recover. It was only after I brought her here that I realized she was—"

On cue, the little golden foal takes this moment to make his grand entrance, squeezing in past his mother to head-butt Sebastian in the stomach, eager for attention.

"Oof," Sebastian laughs, raising his other hand to gently stroke the foal's mane.

"And this is Hazel's son," you chuckle, glancing back and forth between the two boys. "I haven't thought of a name for him yet — he was only just born last week. Perhaps you could help me name him?"

"You'd let me?" Sebastian asks, pleasantly surprised.

"I think it's only right. He seems to have taken quite a shine to you," you smile as the little foal head-butts Sebastian's outstretched hand.

"Either that or he thinks my fingers are carrots," Sebastian laughs.

"I don't think he's quite figured out how to work the automatic feeder just yet," you venture, glancing back at the row of little wooden crates by the entryway and making a mental note to double check you've conjured the spellcraft correctly. "Would you like to feed him while I brush Hazel?"

"Sure," he says, glancing warily at the automatic feeder, not quite sure how to use it himself. "Should I just—"

Before he can finish asking, you lift your wand and produce a fresh bag of beast feed similar to the ones you've used in class, handing it off to him before conjuring your brush and heading toward Hazel.

Out of the corner of your eye, you watch as Sebastian reaches into the bag and lifts a handful of food into the air, where it floats between himself and the foal, who eagerly reaches forward to chomp at the pieces. Sebastian chuckles fondly at the hungry little unicorn and sets about trying to figure out a name for him, listing a few choices out loud and asking him what he thinks of each one in turn.

"What shall we call you?" Sebastian muses, tapping a finger against his chin. "Oh, I know! How about a wood-themed name to match your mother? Let's see…how do you feel about Hawthorn?"

The golden foal snorts and shakes his head.

"Alright, I'll take that as a no," Sebastian chuckles. "Hmm…how about Rowan, then?"

The little foal stamps his front hoof in even deeper disapproval.

"Well, we can't very well call you Dogwood," Sebastian laughs.

Hazel lets out an impatient snort as she waits to be brushed, bringing your focus rather sharply back to her. You breathe out a hasty apology, but she merely gives you a look like she knows exactly why you were so distracted.

"Hush, you," you admonish her with a small smile, reaching up to brush the tangles out of her long silver-white mane.

Hazel lets out another huff like she's sighing at you, glancing over to watch Sebastian playing with her son, red-faced and laughing as the two of them chase each other across the clearing, before turning back to level you with another pointed look, nodding her head and nuzzling her nose into your shoulder, and you think it might just be the closest anyone's ever come to getting a unicorn's stamp of approval.

A little while later, the two of you are sitting at the edge of the forest by the toy box, discarded cloaks laid out underneath you like a makeshift picnic blanket, watching Hazel and newly-named Willow chasing an unpoppable bubble around the clearing, when Sebastian lets out a long, slow, contented sigh and leans his shoulder into yours.

"I have to admit, it's a wonder I've seen you at all these past two weeks," he says with a soft chuckle, gazing out onto the golden horizon, mesmerized by the way the sunlight kisses the surface of the lake. "I could easily stay like this forever."

He turns to look at you, sunlight dancing in his warm brown eyes just like the stars had that night on the Astronomy Tower.

"Here…with you."

Breath catches in the back of your throat as you look at him, eyes trailing down the curves of his freckled cheeks to land on his lips again. Here in the soft afternoon light, his freckles are more pronounced than ever, each one a kiss from the sun. You imagine him spending his summers running around outside, tearing through the countryside on all sorts of rollicking adventures, tending to the gardens and livestock in the village on his quieter days. Perhaps that's how he developed such a sturdy build, broad shoulders straining against the sleeves of his button-up, rolled halfway to his elbows, baring toned, freckled forearms that flex with each flick of his wrist as he guides the moving path of the unpoppable bubble.

You feel your body start to lean forward of its own accord, eyes fluttering closed, but manage to stop yourself before you do something monumentally stupid like kiss your best friend in the middle of a magically-conjured forest clearing.

"Ah, but then you wouldn't get to see the rest of my vivariums," you quickly recover, jolting yourself out of the moment.

"Merlin, I forgot," Sebastian shakes his head, seemingly coming out of his own little reverie. "This is just one of three."

"Four," you correct him with a small smile. "The doorway to the grasslands sits just above the entrance to the Room Of Requirement."

"I didn't even notice," Sebastian marvels. "I was so preoccupied with the three right in front of me."

You slowly get to your feet, dusting grass off the edge of your skirt.

"Well then, are you ready to see the next one?" you ask, holding out your hand.

"Absolutely," he says, taking your offered hand, though he does most of the heavy lifting as you help him to his feet. You expect him to let go once he's standing, but he only holds on tighter, slipping his fingers back in between yours. You can't help the rush of warmth that surges through you at the contact.

"Shall we take the scenic route?" you ask, inclining your head toward the darkened forest just ahead.

"Is there any other way to travel?" Sebastian quips back, eagerly following at your side.

Jobberknolls and fwoopers fly overhead, weaving between the autumn-kissed treetops as the two of you make your way through the thicket, while kneazles chase rolling puffskeins through the leaf-strewn undergrowth. As the two of you trudge along, the forest itself grows darker and darker, fading from the warmth of a golden summer's day into a misty moonlit night, the ground beneath your boots becoming steadily more uneven and unforgiving, solid dirt and gnarled tree roots giving way to soft, muddy earth dotted with moss and mushrooms, puddles of water stretching between patches of grass and tall, swaying cattails, until you reach the very edge of the forest, opening out onto the swamplands.

Sebastian lets out a sharp gasp, faltering for a moment when he sees two skeletal, horse-like creatures with wingspans the size of a Hebridean Black swoop down from the night sky to land at the edge of the forest, one pitch black like the sky above, one as bright as the moon.

"You have thestrals?" he whispers, equal parts amazed and apprehensive.

"There's a den just north of here," you tell him, giving the palm of his hand a reassuring squeeze. "Absolutely riddled with poachers, last time I checked. It's not safe for them out there anymore, at least not at the moment. So, Deek asked me to rescue a mated pair."

"Deek," Sebastian repeats, the name somewhat familiar. "That's that house elf that's friendly with Professor Weasley, right?"

"The very same," you reply with a small smile. "He's the one who helped me set up my study, in fact; encouraged me to rescue as many creatures as I could, give them a safe place free from the threat of poachers."

"Which is how you ended up with a mated pair of thestrals," Sebastian concludes, sounding both amused and impressed.

"Gomez and Morticia," you answer with a cheerful nod.

Sebastian glances at you, one eyebrow arched in amusement.

"It's what I've taken to calling them," you say with a small shrug. "Suits them, don't you think?"

Sebastian watches the pair of bad omens curl up together under the shade of a weeping willow, Gomez stretching out his wings to wrap around Morticia's shoulders like a protective shield, before leaning forward to nuzzle his nose against hers.

"It certainly does," Sebastian replies with a soft smile.

He turns back to look at you, teasing grin returning in full. "Came up with names for all of them, have you?"

"Of course," you reply with a jovial smile. "It would get awfully confusing if I didn't, especially with an entire herd of— aha! There they are, right on cue."

One by one, all seven of your mooncalves emerge into the clearing, moonlight dancing in their big, bright blue eyes, webbed feet splashing through muddy puddles as they all come hurdling toward you, jumping up and down, enveloping you in a cuddly circle. You greet them all by name — Millie, Mooncake, Marzipan, Vanilla Bean, Snickerdoodle, Pancake, and Jellybean — giggling and cooing over them as you ask each one how they've been, who's hungry, and who needs to be brushed.

Too wrapped up in your little herd to notice the way Sebastian's lips curl up in a soft, smitten smile as he watches you, heart fluttering inside his chest at how utterly adorable you are, how big and pure your heart is. Of course you'd have a whole herd of them. He shouldn't have expected anything less.

"Where on earth did you find them all?" he asks, huffing out a laugh as one of the braver ones comes sniffing around his ankles, peering up at him expectantly.

"Poacher camps," you explain, upper lip curling in a scowl. "Every so often, I'll come across an encampment near their den in the forest, catch them before they manage to steal away with their quarry. They mostly use cages with level one locks, so they're easy enough to pick while their backs are turned, but it's not exactly the quickest process. So far, I've only been caught twice. Managed to duel my way out of trouble without too much fuss — nothing a vial or two of Wiggenweld couldn't patch up — and more importantly, without any mooncalves getting hurt in the process. Poachers scare pretty easily when they find out a student knows Confringo — thanks for that, by the way."

You look up from your little herd of mooncalves to find Sebastian staring at you in astonishment, mouth hanging open like you've just revealed some grand secret double-life, so distracted he doesn't even notice the muddy paw prints saturating the knees of his trousers as Jellybean jumps up to nose at his pocket, searching for treats.

"You—" he falters, breath coming out in a disbelieving laugh. "You're amazing, you know that? I wondered where you'd been disappearing off to whenever you weren't with me. Speaking of which…I'd like to come with you next time, if you'll have me. Help you fight the baddies, keep these little ones safe," he says, leaning down to stroke the top of Jellybean's head and letting out a contented hum when she closes her eyes and makes a high-pitched squeaking sound.

"I take back every time I've ever teased you for going soft over these little gremlins. I can see now why you like them so much," he relents, chuckling as Jellybean purrs and nuzzles her head against the palm of his hand, eager for more scritches.

"Aren't they wonderful? They're so sweet and soft and silly," you laugh as you watch a trio of little ones chasing after a tiny floating moon conjured from the toy box with all the fondness in the world. "Oh, I just love them so much."

"Is that what it takes to earn your love? I'm at least one out of three of those things," Sebastian chuckles under his breath, eyes growing wide the moment he realizes he's just said that out loud.

"Sorry, didn't quite catch that," you say, struggling to hear anything over the sound of Snickerdoodle happily crunching away as you feed him a handful of treats.

"Nothing," Sebastian lies, summoning a handful of beast feed from out of your bag with a flick of his wand. "I was just asking Jellybean here if she was hungry."

At the mention of food, all seven of your mooncalves come gallivanting up to surround you both, floating toy moon immediately forgotten.

"Alright, easy there, I promise I won't let anyone go hungry," Sebastian reassures them, laughing as their little pink tongues poke out to tickle the palm of his hand. There's no Hazel to tease you this time as you stand there, rooted to the spot as though you've just been Stunned, one breath away from sighing like a lovesick damsel as you watch Sebastian dote on your mooncalves, heart threatening to burst with the overwhelming love it carries.

You wait until the very last mooncalf has huddled in with the rest of their herd and laid their head down in the tall, swaying grasses to drift off to sleep, fur brushed and bellies full, before making your way to the next vivarium. Together, the two of you wade through knee-deep swamp water littered with lily pads and lotus flowers, cloaks soaked and caked in mud and moss, until you reach the mouth of a darkened cave, shards of moonstone jutting from floor to ceiling like rows of shark's teeth.

Led by the glow of your wands, the two of you carefully make your way through the cavernous passageway, a kaleidoscope of colors bursting across the walls each time your light shines through a cluster of crystals, until eventually, the light at the end grows bright enough to outshine even the strongest of light spells, a symphony of crickets and tree frogs and echoes of dripping stalactites giving way to the soft cries of seagulls and gentle ocean waves, moss giving way to seaweed, until the muddied puddles of the swamp meet little whirlpools of sea water.

Together, the two of you step out into a bright, hazy world lit by golden sunlight streaming through fluffy white clouds stretched across a brilliant blue sky, ocean waves crashing against massive weather-worn rocks surrounding you on all sides.

After thestrals and unicorns, Sebastian really shouldn't be surprised to learn that you have hippogriffs too, but he gasps in disbelief all the same when two of them come swooping down from the sky to land right in front of you, eager to be brushed and fed.

They're wary at first, only used to you, Natty, and Poppy from your daring rescue weekend last, watching Sebastian with a kind of cautious curiosity as he dips into a low bow, warm brown eyes fixed first to Highwing's golden gaze, and then Caligo's piercing bright blue. After a moment, the two of them bow their heads, allowing Sebastian to come stand beside you and brush them, Caligo affectionately nipping at the hood of Sebastian's cloak when he sneaks him a few extra treats from your bag of beast feed.

"Keep that up, and I bet he'll let you ride him in no time," you chuckle, plucking another loose feather from Highwing's bright white plumage and stowing it in the pocket of your cloak.

Sebastian turns to look at you, eyes wide with excitement.

Your lips quirk up in a smug smile.

"There's nothing quite like the view of the castle grounds from the back of a hippogriff," you sigh, mischief dancing in your eyes as you cast him a playful grin. "Want to see for yourself sometime?"

"Do you even have to ask?" Sebastian quips back, lips pulling up into a brilliant smile.

"Is it just the two of them in here, or are there any other surprises I should know ab—" Sebastian barks out a startled laugh as a bright white diricawl bursts into existence right beside him.

"Oh, hullo Gwyneira, nice of you to join us," you chuckle as the squat little bird marches up to the automatic feeder, bobbing and weaving without a trace of fear between the hippogriffs' taloned feet, and steals three helpings' worth of food before disappearing again with an audible pop.

You didn't think Sebastian's face had room for any more freckles, but after a long stretch of sitting at the edge of the beach, dark gray trousers rolled up to his knees, wool socks and worn leather boots discarded in favor of dipping his toes into the sand, tempting the water to come up and kiss the soles of his feet, you're proven quite wrong, a ruddy hue settling into the hollows of his cheeks as he squints against the blinding sunlight and watches in fascination as Caligo and Highwing take to the skies.

Eager to see where they're off to, the two of you make your way a little further east, where a large formation of rocks leads up a steep cliffside covered in a thick coat of lush greenery, cracked and crumbling steps ascending to the ruins of an old castle. It's a bit of a climb that's hell on both your knees, but the view at the top is well worth it, sunlight spilling over a landscape that seems to exist forever in the golden hour, rolling grasslands teeming with billywigs and honeybees buzzing about a colorful sweep of wildflowers, surrounded on all sides by majestic, snowcapped mountains.

Sebastian gazes out onto the horizon, elbows resting against the edge of the wooden guardrail fencing in the highest outlook of the clearing, mesmerized by the way the sunlight hits the glittering golds of Highwing's feathers and the cool blues of Caligo's as the two of them soar across the mountain range, when a flash of bright red wings swoops by overheard, wind curling its fingers through his hair.

"Is that— oh, there's no way," Sebastian gasps in unbridled excitement.

"Oh, did I forget to mention I have a phoenix?" you reply cooly, though your proud, beaming smile gives you away.

"Incredible," he says, a little breathless as he watches the legendary bird soar across the mountainous landscape. "Absolutely incredible."

He turns to look at you, sunlight catching against the back of his frame and igniting him in a soft golden glow, fixing you with a smile that's somehow even softer as he adds, "Every time I think I've seen everything, you always find a way to surprise me."

Sunlight spills across his features as he holds your gaze, kissing brand new freckles into the curves of his cheeks and the bow of his lips, and in that moment you've never been more jealous of the sun, longing to follow in its lead.

You're shaken out of the moment by a series of curious squeaks and whines, turning in time to see a family of nifflers eagerly waddling up the path toward you, keen to sniff you out and see if you've got anything valuable to nick. You introduce Sebastian to the felonious foursome — the infamous Irondale Pilferer, Calamity, his partner in crime, and their newborn twins, Mischief and Rascal. Sebastian greets them with a friendly smile, crouching down to tickle Mischief's belly and laughing when a handful of coins comes spilling out of her pouch. You tell him he's more than welcome to pocket them…if he can manage to keep them out of her brother's clutches.

Sebastian lets out a deep, contented sigh as he gazes out into the distance, watching as the sun slowly starts to slip beneath the mountains, bathing the clearing in hazy shades of citrus and rose.

"Blimey, how long have we been in here?" he laughs, glancing down at the edges of his nearly-dried cloak. "It feels so real in here, I'd honestly forgotten we're still in a room inside the castle, and haven't just traversed the whole of the highlands in the span of— what, a couple of hours? This place feels never-ending, it'll be a wonder if we ever manage to find our way back."

He glances over at you suddenly, a worried crease settling into his brow.

"Do you know the way back, or do we just live here now?" he asks, huffing out a nervous laugh.

"Come along, lost boy. Let's get you home," you tease, fixing him with a fond smile as you take him by the hand and lead him down a curved, winding pathway that twists around the cliff face of the clearing, tall grasses and fragrant wildflowers weaving between the pickets of the worn wooden guardrail, down down down until you reach a magnificent waterfall spilling out into a vast, glittering lake on the periphery of a familiar terrain.

As you climb down the last moss-covered boulder and make your way across the clearing, you spot Hazel curled up around her little foal, the two of them softly dozing under the shade of an oak tree, gentle sunlight spilling through its branches in a lazy waltz across the lush green grass.

Hand in hand, the two of you step back through the doorway opposite the edge of the forest, and into the heart of your starlit study.

Sebastian shakes his head like he's coming out of a trance, glancing back toward the sunlit doorway to double check it hadn't all just been a dream.

"An entire world — sorry, four entire worlds — existing inside a single room in the castle?" he marvels, breathless laughter rushing out of him as he glances around the study. "And you managed to set all this up in just two weeks?"

"Well, I had a lot of help," you're quick to assure him, not wanting to take all the credit. "From Deek and the room itself."

"But you're the one rescued all those creatures, and you chose all the decor, didn't you?" he insists, playfully knocking his shoulder against yours.

"I suppose that's true…" you relent, lips curving up in a proud smile as you glance around the room, sleek mahogany bookshelves lining nearly every wall, just waiting to be filled with all your favorites, moonlit sky casting shadows on the polished marble floor through the twisting greenery adorning the skylight up above.

"It's magnificent, by the way…your private study," he tells you, voice soft and low as he turns back to look at you.

"Our private study now, if you'd like," you correct him, mesmerized by the way the moonlight dances in his eyes.

"A secret room that's just ours alone? Oh, I like the sound of that very much," he says, voice close to a whisper now as he keeps his steady gaze fixed on yours.

It's easier to catch this time, now you're no longer under the spell of a Disillusionment Charm, the way his eyes trail down to your lips and linger there, just for a moment. Your tongue darts out to swipe across your bottom lip in instinctual anticipation, and you could almost swear you hear his breath hitch, hand gripping yours a little tighter.

And oh, you're going to do something very stupid if you don't snap yourself out of this right now.

"So," you prompt, embarrassed by how breathless you sound. "You promised to show me something forbidden tonight?"

Sebastian blinks, eyebrows jumping to his hairline.

"What?" he blurts out, half shocked disbelief, half breathless laughter.

Ah. You just clocked the way that sounded. Brilliant subject change. Spectacular choice of wording right there.

"You— you said you had a spell you wanted to show me?" you clarify, cheeks burning at the eager look in his eyes.

"Oh," Sebastian breathes, shoulders sagging a little. He shakes his head to try and clear it.

"Right, we should—" he falters, suddenly nervous, hand slipping out of yours as he makes his way into the middle of the study. (You try very hard not to mourn the loss, the space between your fingers a little too empty without his to fit perfectly between them.)

The look he gives you as he stands opposite you is apprehensive, posture worse than usual as he ducks his head down in an effort to appear smaller.

"So…" he starts, lips pulling up in a wincing smile. "I trust you remember a little spell called…" he swallows. "…the Imperius Curse?"

All the air rushes out of the room like a Dementor's kiss, fear lancing through you like slivers of ice, leaving pins and needles in its wake.

It's been over a year since the catacombs. You thought he'd put all that behind him.

"Sebastian…" you say his name like a warning.

Sebastian puts his hands up in surrender.

"Allow me to explain," he says softly. "Please."

You purse your lips, eyes narrowed. After a moment's deliberation, you let out a sharp sigh and give him an impatient look, your silence giving him permission to continue.

Sebastian breathes a sigh of relief and nods in gratitude.

"Okay, so…hear me out," he starts. "You and I have both known what we wanted to do since the end of our fifth year, yeah? But getting Outstandings in our O.W.L.s is only the beginning. If we're to have even a shot at surviving life as Curse-Breakers, then we need to be prepared for what's out there."

"Even— no, especially— all the things the school deems too dangerous for us to even know about. Honestly, what's the use in Defence Against The Dark Arts if they're not going to teach us how to properly defend ourselves against the Dark Arts?" Sebastian scoffs, rolling his eyes as he riles himself up over his longstanding disdain for the curriculum.

Your lips twitch into a small smile in spite of yourself.

Sebastian shakes his head and lets out a wearying sigh, reeling himself back in, gaze softening as he turns back to look at you.

"Listen, I know you didn't want to learn it last time…but this time, I really think you should," he insists, solemn conviction laced with an undercurrent of soft, desperate pleading. "Not for the purpose of using it on anyone, but so you can understand how it works, the kind of power that comes with wielding it, and most importantly, how to fight against it, so that if anyone is ever fool enough to cast it on you, you won't be so easily subject to their whims."

A shudder runs through the both of you at the very thought, Sebastian bristling with a kind of fierce protectiveness you've only ever seen him display for a few choice souls — his twin sister, his oldest friend, and you.

"And the other two curses?" you ask tentatively, voice low and quiet as your vision swirls with sparks of acid green and crackling carmine, a phantom burst of pain unlike anything else in this world rippling across your abdomen as the memory of cold stone beneath your hands and knees overwhelms you. "Would you have me fight against those, too?"

"No!" Sebastian says a little too sharply, terror flashing in his eyes.

He takes a deep breath, grounding himself.

"The only one I feel even remotely comfortable casting on one another is the Imperius Curse. In the right hands, it's the only one that isn't inexorably harmful…the only one anyone's ever been able to fight against. With the other two, it's really just a matter of…of dodging it," he swallows thickly, a flash of guilt tightening his jaw. "Or…or enduring it."

Sebastian's expression darkens and you know he's thinking back to the Scriptorium again, his reaction so raw and visceral it's as though you're back on a different stone floor, tears drenching the hood of your cloak as he'd clung to you, shoulders shaking in violent, body-wracking sobs.

It's not as though he's made peace with what happened with his uncle, or that he feels more remorse for one grievance over the other. You suppose it's just a little easier to contend with your past mistakes, to quiet the voices of all the people you've wronged, when you don't have to look one of them in the eye every day…when they've been nothing but kind and loyal to you, and all you did in return was repeatedly let them down.

And you know, because he's told you countless times now, that there isn't a single day that goes by where he doesn't wish it'd been him instead, that he should've fought harder against your refusal to cast it on him. But that's an empty regret, because even if you had to go back and do it all over again, you still never would have let him be the one to take it.

"I'll never cast that spell on you ever again," he says, broken, choking. "Once was already too much. I'm so—"

"I know you are," you tell him softly, the same words you've repeated countless times since that quiet little moment in the Undercroft at the end of your fifth year.

You'd kept in touch over the summer, too eager to hear from him to follow through on any half-baked notions of needing space. And a good thing, too — Sebastian, it seemed, was just as keen to hear from you in return. He'd written dozens of letters — two, three, four, sometimes five times a week, if his owl was feeling up to it (though according to one of his letters, she'd start biting his fingers if he ever reached for his quill a sixth time in the span of a single week.)

He never veered toward the topic of your magic or what happened down in the catacombs, content to talk at length about the mundanities of your day instead, asking after your fancy new life in London living all on your own in the flat Fig had left you in his will, commiserating over the hardships of settling a late loved one's affairs. He never seemed bored in the slightest, even when you felt you were droning on about nothing, always happy to hear what you've been up to, even on the days you never left the house. To Sebastian, it seemed no subject could be exhausted, especially when it came to you.

In each new letter, he'd oh-so-casually ask about one of your favorite things, from sweets to flowers to the muggle authors you'd grown up reading, and every week, you'd find a little hand-wrapped parcel among his many letters — a box of sugar quills or a chocolate frog he'd picked up in Hogsmeade the weekend before, a bright blue jobberknoll feather he'd found at a nearby den and fashioned into a quill, fresh honeysuckles and hyacinths from his neighbor's garden pressed between the pages of a quote he'd scribbled down from one of your favorite books, along with an essay on why he liked it.

He'd been keen to keep you up-to-date on how he'd been faring too, eager to keep busy and make himself useful, helping his neighbors with various errands and tasks they might need done, tending to livestock and community gardens, helping to fix up the hamlet in the wake of loyalist destruction. He spoke like he was desperate to prove himself, prove he was keeping his word. A few times, you couldn't help but giggle at the way he sounded like an overzealous suitor trying to woo his intended, keen to sell up his accomplishments.

At first, you'd thought it was simply because he was lonely, that you were his only correspondent, but then Ominis finally broke his silence in July (insisting in his letters to you that given the choice between his family's company and Sebastian's, he supposed he'd rather tolerate the latter, and not because he missed the impish bastard, or anything — his words) followed by a tentative hope you're well from Anne in August. Though she hadn't quite been ready to forgive him back then, Anne was still anxious to know how her brother was faring, not-so-subtly asking if you'd heard from him in her owls to you, and, according to Anne's letters, getting an earful from one of her former neighbors.

After Anne left Feldcroft, she'd kept in touch with one of the neighbors she'd always been closest to — a kindly old woman who used to send over home-cooked stews when Anne and Sebastian first arrived on Solomon's doorstep, and who'd apparently been singing Sebastian's praises all summer for all the hard work that nice young man had been doing to help cut back on the gnome infestation threatening to overtake her rose garden.

Evidently, there were only so many times Anne could bear to hear about that poor boy's crumpled face every time the old woman mentioned Anne's name in passing, how sweet it was that he missed his twin, but wished her luck in her travels as she took a much-needed respite to mourn the loss of their uncle, opting to stay behind and look after the estate, that she'd finally broken and decided to send him a letter. Just one line — hope you're well — but to Sebastian, it was everything.

And yet, the frequency with which he wrote to you never wavered. If anything, it'd given him even more to talk about.

You remember how excited he'd been for term to start back up again — it was all the two of you seemed to be able to talk about in the days leading up to September. You'd grown so used to his presence, even if it was only through letters, that the stroll through Diagon Alley felt rather lonely without him, as did the train ride from King's Cross (though an afternoon of stories, snacks, and Exploding Snap with Ominis, Poppy, Natty, Garreth, and Amit certainly made for a lovely journey through the countryside) but seeing as he could easily get all his supplies in Hogsmeade and simply use the Floo Network to travel to the castle, it seemed rather silly to invite him to come all the way to London, just to go all the way back.

You remember the way the floor fell out from underneath you the first time you saw him again — teeth as white as a Patronus Charm against the sun-kissed glow of his skin, an impossible surplus of freckles scattered across his cheeks and the bridge of his nose, spilling into the curves of his dimples as his lips pulled up into a bright smile, warm brown eyes lit up like afternoon sunlight across the forest floor, somehow even taller and stronger than he'd been only a few months prior as he'd rushed toward you and lifted you off your feet in a dizzying hug, shivers dancing down your spine as he'd buried his face into the crook of your neck and whispered, "Merlin, I've missed you."

By then, you'd finally begun to admit to yourself that maybe, quite possibly, you might have developed something of a small crush on your closest friend. This moment clearly endeavored to whack you round the back of the head with it.

Laughter caught like honey in the back of your throat as you'd pulled back to look at him, cheeks burning like you'd just hugged a living Confringo blast, and said, "Thought you'd be sick of me by now. We only wrote each other every day."

But Sebastian's sincerity only grew stronger.

"Never. Much as I looked forward to your letters, it's not the same as getting to see you in person. Merlin, can't believe it's been almost three months since I last saw you. You look—"

Sebastian paused, eyes lingering on the silken spill of your hair as it cascaded down your shoulders, longer now and out of its usual braid, the healthy glow that had blossomed across your cheeks from all those downtown strolls in the warm summer sun, same bright eyes, same soft smile you always seemed to reserve just for him.

"I sure hope the end of that sentence is good," you'd teased in the wake of the silence that stretched between you, momentarily worried you had some leftover pumpkin pasty on your face, or forgotten to repair a singe in your cloak.

But then Sebastian had let out the softest laugh, ducking his head in a sheepish grin and peering up at you through his lashes. And Merlin, how your heart raced.

"That's one word for it. Good. You look good," he said softly.

He looked at you for a moment longer, lips pulling up into a soft — dare you call it adoring — smile. And then he shook his head, and in the next instant it was gone, replaced by something sharper, cheekier.

"Though it appears you've somehow gotten even shorter since the last time I saw you," he added in a teasing lilt, lifting his arm and settling it atop your head as though you were a particularly moody armrest.

"Or you just shot up over the summer, you bloody tree," you'd quipped, wriggling out from under his arm, only for it to fall around your shoulders and stay there until they called for everyone to take their seats for the start of term feast.

Sebastian's laughter lanced through you like a bolt of lightning, and you spent far more time than you'd care to admit lying awake later that night wondering whether he'd planned it.

The next morning, you awoke to find him waiting for you bright and early outside of your common room, in the midst of a heated debate with the eagle doorknocker over the answer to the riddle when is a door not a door?

"When it's ajar," you'd answered as you stepped out into the corridor, eagerly accepting the freshly-baked croissant held out in his hand.

"That's—" Sebastian blurted out, flustered. "How is that more of a correct answer than a portrait? Ever heard of the Fat Lady? The painting of the ticklish pear? The doorways to both the kitchen and the Gryffindor common room are literally hidden behind a portrait. So technically, my answer was correct."

You'd never seen a doorknocker look so exhausted.

"Does this little serpent belong to you?" the bronze eagle asked you as it cast a wearying glance at Sebastian.

Now that's one hell of a riddle.

"I— yes. He's with me. Sorry," you answered quickly, turning on your heel and steering Sebastian down the corridor before the doorknocker decided to exact vengeance by locking you out of your common room later that night.

You glanced over at the serpent in question, shit-eating grin spread across his ruddy cheeks.

"Sebastian," you prompted as you took in the sight of him, out of breath as he greeted you with a cheeky hello you. "Do you know how many staircases it takes to get from Slytherin Dungeon to Ravenclaw Tower?"

"Oh bloody hell, not another riddle," Sebastian groaned.

"Seventeen," you replied, cheeks aching from the effort of trying not to laugh. "Seventeen staircases. And you climbed all of them this morning just to…what, argue the merits of what makes for a good riddle with my house's doorknocker? You do know I could've just met you in the Great Hall, right? You didn't have to go to all the trouble."

The redness in the hollows of his cheeks spread like wildfire across the bridge of his nose, nearly drowning out the smattering of freckles there.

"Well yeah, I could've just waited downstairs," he brushed it off with false bravado. "But I figured it's only right I escort my charge to her first day of classes. It is a special occasion, after all."

"Is it, now?" you asked, smile growing even wider.

"It is," he quipped. "Did you know it's officially been one whole year since the day we met?" he asked, puffing out his chest with a kind of pride that made your stomach swoop like you just fell through the vanishing step in the grand staircase.

"You mean since I knocked you on your arse?" you teased around a mouthful of warm flaky pastry and rich chocolate.

Sebastian pouted at you and made a grab to take back his croissant, barking out a laugh when you shrieked and proceeded to shove the entire thing into your mouth.

"The very picture of grace," he'd mused, smile fit to bursting as you stuck your tongue out at him.

"Speaking of which," he added, smile turning sly. "I think it's high time we had a rematch, wouldn't you?"

"Eager to make losing to me a yearly tradition?" you smirked.

"You wish," he snorted, smile fond as he rolled his eyes. "Meet me in the Undercroft after your last class, and we'll set the record back to rights."

"I look forward to sweeping you off your feet again," you countered with a playful smile.

Sebastian's eyebrows drew up the slightest fraction, lips pulling into a soft, amused smile as he let out a sound that was half hum, half laughter.

"Here's hoping one of these days I can manage to do the same," he'd mused, all the air rushing out of your lungs in a single breath as he took a step closer and reached out to swipe his thumb across your lower lip.

You had half a mind to wonder whether the duel had begun early, whether he'd been practicing wandless, nonverbal spells over the summer, and had struck you unawares with a combination of ice and fire charms, heart pounding in your chest as you watched his tongue dart out to lick a dab of melted chocolate off the edge of his thumb, darkened gaze locked on yours the whole time.

"See you then," he said, the low hum of his laughter stirring something that felt an awful lot like wings in the pit of your stomach, threatening to burst out of you and chase him down the corridor as you watched him walk away.

It took you five whole minutes to find your way to your first class, despite the fact that he'd literally walked you to the door.

You were still in a bit of a daze when you'd strolled through the sliding gate several hours later, hair wild from a particularly humid session in Potions brewing your first-ever N.E.W.T. level Draught Of Living Death, a streak of dirt on your nose from wrangling a screaming mandrake into a fresh pot of soil in Herbology — at least, that's the excuse you'd told yourself when Sebastian caught you off guard in the middle of your rematch, knocking you off your feet with a well-timed Depulso that had absolutely nothing to do with the way his forearms flexed beneath his rolled-up sleeves.

The spell hit you directly in the stomach and had you gasping like you'd just been struck by a charging graphorn. You vaguely registered the clattering of a dropped wand against worn stone, and in the next moment, Sebastian was on his knees beside you, hands reaching out reflexively and then faltering in midair, like he wasn't sure what to do, whether he was allowed to touch you.

You'd laughed it off, relieved for that first rush of air back into your lungs, head swiveling to where he kneeled beside you, preparing to see a sheepish grin, a wincing apology made less effective by a triumphant, gloating smirk, but all you saw when you looked into the eyes of your best friend was sheer terror, and you knew in an instant where his mind had gone.

Sebastian's gaze flitted between your eyes and the place you'd been hit — the very same spot his Cruciatus Curse had struck you less than a year prior.

"Oh Sebastian, it's okay," you reassured him, wincing at the slight wheeze to your voice. "I'm fine, see? It wasn't anything like—"

Sebastian's lower lip trembled, and in the next moment you'd been pulled into a tight embrace, shaking in his arms as seismic sobs wracked his entire body, an endless chorus of I'm sorry, I'm so sorry, please forgive me spilling from his lips.

You'd held him back just as tight, assuring him between gentle strokes of his hair that you'd long forgiven him, that you knew he didn't have a choice.

"But I did have a choice," he argued, pulling back to fix you with a red-rimmed scowl. "I led you down there. I insisted. I'm the one who got us into that impossible situation in the first place. I made so many terrible choices, and all that time I let myself believe it was worth it because I thought I was doing the right thing. But in the end, all I did was hurt the people I—" he faltered, swallowing around a sharp burst of nerves that only had half to do with the guilt welling up inside him.

"I've had all summer to relive what I did to you…to everyone," he whispered softly, haunted by ghosts both living and dead as he'd looked into your eyes.

It's the same way he looks at you now, desperate and pleading for forgiveness you've already granted him, absolution he still won't allow himself.

You know how much he regrets it, how deeply it haunts him, even now. You know he's changed, learned from his past mistakes, determined never to repeat them. You know you can trust him. So if Sebastian wants you to learn one of the Unforgivable Curses, then you have to trust that it must be for good reason.

"So you're telling me it's actually possible to fight against the Imperius Curse?" you ask, still wary, but, you'll begrudgingly admit, curiosity effectively piqued. "How in Merlin's name did you ever learn how to do that?"

Sebastian lets out a breath he'd likely been holding that entire time, some of the tension unraveling from his shoulders as his lips pull into a smile like he's relieved you're still standing here with him, eager to share in something new he's learned like it's just another trip to the Restricted Section.

"Well, as you may have noticed, our dear friend Ominis is not exactly thrilled about our choice of career," Sebastian starts, and you can't help the small smile that curls across your lips as a litany of passive aggressive comments about how he'd better not see the two of you anywhere near the Janus Thickey Ward when he starts his residency in June, comes flooding into your memory. Sebastian clocks your smile and his lips twitch into one of his own.

"Keeps lamenting about how he wishes we'd choose something less dangerous," he adds, rolling his eyes in a show of fond amusement. "But that if we absolutely must, then he'd rather we go in fully prepared for what's out there. I'd assumed he was just going to help us practice a few defensive spells, offer to teach us some of the healing charms he's been learning shadowing Nurse Blainey. Imagine my surprise when Ominis Gaunt, self-proclaimed opposer of anything to do with the Dark Arts, offers to teach me the ins and outs of the Imperius Curse."

That certainly does surprise you, helping to put whatever remains of your unsettled nerves at ease. You know Ominis would never agree, let alone be the one to suggest practicing dark magic unless he truly felt it would be beneficial, unless he truly believed Sebastian could be trusted with such a thing.

"We've been practicing nearly every night in the Undercroft for the past several weeks," Sebastian goes on to explain. "I'd have told you sooner, but I didn't want to risk subjecting you to such a spell until I'd grown comfortable using it myself, fighting against its effects. Now that I have…would you like to see how it's done?"

A frisson runs down your spine, and you're not entirely sure whether it's thrill, fear, or some strange combination of the two. You swallow, only trusting yourself to nod.

"Alright then, draw your wand," he instructs, taking a few tentative steps closer until he's standing right behind you, gentle hands wrapping around the wrist of your dominant hand and bringing it into the air alongside his own.

"We'll begin with the wand movements so you can establish muscle memory," he says, warm breath ghosting across the back of your neck as he speaks in a low, soothing voice, sending shivers that have nothing to do with the forbidden magic you're about to perform racing down the length of your spine.

Together, you aim for the opposite wall, following his directions as he speaks them aloud. Arc up…left…up at a sharp diagonal to the right…and then straight back down in a figure four.

After you've completed your first circuit, Sebastian takes a step back and allows you to practice a few more times on your own, making sure you've got the movements just right.

"Good," he says, sounding impressed, but not altogether surprised. "Perfect form, in fact."

You can't help the automatic smile that curves across your lips at his praise.

"Now to put it into practice," he prompts, drawing his own wand from the inside pocket of his cloak and turning round to face you.

"Do you trust me?" he asks softly, fixing you with a serious, almost pleading look, like if you answer no it's as good as casting Crucio.

"You know I do," you answer automatically. Because even though you're still a little nervous at the prospect of delving into darker forms of magic, there's no one you'd rather learn it from.

Sebastian's eyes crinkle in a grateful smile, before quickly shifting back to something more serious.

"Alright then," he says, taking a deep, steadying breath. "Prepare yourself, I'm going to cast it on you."

"I'm ready," you tell him, standing with your spine a little straighter, wand at your side.

"Imperio," he intones, wand flicking through the air in the pattern he'd just taught you.

The effect is instantaneous, a serene sort of blankness settling over your mind like you're floating through the clouds, a comfortable warmth akin to dozing off in front of the fireplace spreading throughout your entire body. Then, clear as a bell, you hear Sebastian's voice ring out inside your head, instructing you to walk over to your desk and bring him back an apple from the bowl set atop. Without even questioning it, you do so, legs moving of their own accord.

"Finite," he says as you come to a sudden stop in front of him, a bright red honeycrisp apple held out in offering in the palm of your hand. The floating high disappears instantly, leaving you feeling out of sorts, a little dazed as you stare down at the apple, almost as if you'd dreamed you'd gone to fetch it.

"How are you feeling? Are you alright?" he asks, checking you over like he's the one preparing for a Healer's career. "It can be a little overwhelming when you first experience it. Part of why I asked you to bring that," he adds, pointing down at the apple. "The sugars will help you recover."

Sebastian's always had a bit of a sweet tooth, but the sudden uptick in the sheer amount of sugar quills you'd seen stuck between his teeth as of late suddenly makes a lot more sense. Slowly, as though testing the bounds of being back in control of your own limbs, you lift the apple to your lips and take a small bite, mulling over his question.

"It was…strange," you decide, aware that's the biggest understatement of the century. "I know I should've been scared, but instead I felt oddly serene."

"That's what it does to you," Sebastian nods solemnly. "Lulls you into a false sense of security. Tricks your mind into complacency, like you're merely a vessel and someone else is steering the ship."

"I can see how it earned the name unforgivable," you agree with a grimace. "I reckon the only reason I'm not nearly as unnerved as I should be right now is because I knew you were the one casting it."

"That's exactly why I wanted to be the one to teach you," he says with renewed conviction. "In order to learn how to defend ourselves against it, it's important to practice with someone we trust."

"Which is why," he adds with a wry chuckle. "You're going to be the one casting it on me next."

Your lips part in surprise. Even though you knew it was coming, it still catches you off guard.

"Are— are you sure?" you ask warily.

"Course I am," he reassures you with a confident grin. "As I said, it's important to know what it feels like from both sides, understand the kind of power you wield."

You stare at him for a moment, mulling it over, and then give him a curt nod, taking a few steps back to allow enough room for a safe cast.

"Remember, you have to mean it," he reminds you, stowing his wand in his pocket and standing in front of you with his arms behind his back. "Concentrate. Think the command very clearly in your mind."

You take a deep breath as you square your shoulders, assume your stance, and raise your wand.

"Alright, I'm going to cast it," you tell him, giving him the same warning he'd granted you.

"I'm ready," he assures you in an echo of your words.

"Imperio," you say aloud, and a warm weight like you've just been handed the reigns to the carriage of Helios himself settles into your dominant hand. The effect on your intended target is immediate, spine straightening as he stands to attention, an eerie green glow flickering to life in the heart of his warm brown eyes.

You nearly lose your nerve when you see it, an overwhelming, all-consuming realization that you're completely in control of another human being settling into the pit of your stomach like lead, terrified that one wrong move could potentially hurt your dearest friend. But then you remind yourself that he's the one who asked you to cast it on him, that you're learning this spell for a reason, and so you close your eyes and clear your mind, focusing on the task at hand.

Walk over to the desk and bring back one of Highwing's feathers, and then place it behind my ear, your own voice rings out inside your head, clear as crystal. You open your eyes in time to see Sebastian already on the move, watching with a kind of macabre fascination as he does exactly as you'd commanded.

"Finite," you say the moment you feel the quill gently slide into place behind your left ear — though at first you wonder whether you've done it right, when Sebastian doesn't immediately withdraw his hand, instead letting it linger to brush back a lock of hair and tuck it behind your ear to join the bright white feather. You're saved from worry when he clears his throat a moment later, the bridge of his nose dusted in a curious shade of pink.

"A perfect first cast," he tells you, and although you don't necessarily want to be proud that you'd gotten such a dark spell right on your very first try, you can't help but preen a little at his praise.

"Now, I want you to try it again, but this time, let's focus on recitation," he says, backing up a few paces and resuming his stance from before. "Think the words very clearly inside your mind and watch as they come spilling out of my mouth as though we were a living ventriloquist act," he quips, lips curling up in a wry smile.

Used to his rather dark sense of humor in light of things he should probably take a bit more seriously, you merely smirk and roll your eyes.

After another steadying breath, you lift your wand and cast it again, beginning with a simple, "Hi, my name is Sebastian Sallow, and I'm a seventh year Slytherin at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry," watching in equal parts wonder and horror as he repeats every word you'd just been thinking in perfect recitation.

That's what an utterly ridiculous idea comes to you, and, curious to test the bounds of the enchantment beyond mere facts and figures, you instruct him to say something you know he never would of his own accord.

"Hello, I'm Sebastian Mallowsweet, and cockroach clusters are my favorite treat in all the world! I can't wait to buy a whole barrel from Honeydukes the next time I'm in Hogsmeade," Sebastian repeats in a bright, cheerful voice that makes you giggle so hard you nearly slip up and lose your hold on the spell, but not before you get him to add in a hearty, "Perhaps I'll share some with my best mate, Duncan Hobhouse, the bravest man I've ever known."

"Finite," you manage between poorly-stifled bouts of laughter.

"Oh, that's just cruel," Sebastian chides you with a playful scowl, shaking himself out of the enchantment.

"I'm not sure what's worse, the image of a whole barrel of cockroach clusters, or the idea of voluntarily spending time with Puffskein Dunkein," he adds with a sharper shudder toward the latter. "Rest assured I'll get you back for that heinous slander."

At this point you're a lost cause, laughing so hard it's like you've downed a dozen shots of giggle water, shoulders shaking as you struggle to regain composure. Try as he might, Sebastian can't even pretend to be cross with you, lips quirking up at the corners in a fond smile.

"It's a power feeling, isn't it?" he asks softly, giving you an appraising look, curious to see how you'll answer.

"Is it bad that I sort of enjoyed it?" you ask, wincing as though you've just admitted something wicked.

Sebastian studies you for a moment, choosing his next words very carefully.

"There's nothing wrong with the thrill that comes with learning a bit of forbidden magic," he says thoughtfully. "As long as you're responsible about how you use it."

"Some people learn that lesson through trial and error," he continues, lips twisting into a self-effacing frown. "And to some, it just comes naturally. Given that I am speaking to the person who had the chance to take one of the most powerful sources of magic known to wizardkind and keep it all to herself, but chose not to…I think it's safe to say you've more than proven yourself."

Your lips pull up in a small, grateful smile.

"And let's not forget one very important caveat: I gave you full permission to cast it on me and make me say whatever you wanted," he reminds you. "So let me ask you this: would you ever cast it on me without my consent?"

"Of course not!" you answer without hesitation, scandalized by the very thought.

"There you go," he says with a reassuring smile. "So, no, you're not a bad person for enjoying that little moment of power, because in the end, all you did was make a friend say something silly."

"But the kinds of people who usually wield this type of spell…well, let's just say their intentions aren't quite so whimsical," he says, grounding you back in a sharper reality, the chilling warning like a gust of wind through lantern light, reminding just how dark and twisted the path through the woods can be.

"Which is precisely why you're learning it," he says with bright conviction. "So you can understand the dangers of it, learn how to fight against it."

"Now, with your permission, I'm going to cast it again, and this time, I want you to try to break it, alright? Concentrate on channeling your own wants and needs, making your own voice louder than the one giving the commands."

You give him a firm nod of affirmation, wand held steady at your side.

"Ready?" he asks.

"Ready," you reply.

Sebastian raises his wand.

You brace yourself for it this time, try to shake yourself out of the fog the moment it hits. Just before you slip under, you see Sebastian's lips curl upward in a mischievous smirk, dark eyes glinting with mirth. It doesn't take long for you to figure out why, when, true to his promise to get you back for your little cockroach clusters prank, the words, "Sebastian Sallow is the best in our year — a dueling champion, clever as Merlin, graceful as a phoenix on the wind," come tumbling out of your mouth without your approval.

You concentrate all your effort on trying to break his hold on you, your own voice snorting with laughter inside your head as you recall that first day in Defence Against The Dark Arts when you'd knocked that cocky little smirk clean off his face with a single blow. Dueling champion, my arse.

That little burst of your own laughter grounds you, gives you clarity, strengthens your resolve to push back against the commanding voice inside your head, until you feel the curse's hold on you start to weaken, little by little, like the steady tick tick tick of an unlocking charm, before all the right tumblers and springs click into place.

Spell broken, you decide that the best way to get Sebastian back is to take his own ostentatious accolades a step further, hand over your heart as you pretend to swoon, sighing, "Devilishly charming, too. I would gladly spend hours charting constellations in the freckles that adorn his handsome face."

"With my lips," you add with a salacious wink to really drive it home, delighting in the way his whole face goes up in flames, burning brighter than a Confringo blast.

(The fact that it's all true is irrelevant. The point of the thing is to tease him, and judging by the stupefied look on his face, you've succeeded.)

"I—" Sebastian falters, embarrassingly breathless. "Hang on, I didn't tell you to say any of that!"

"That's right!" you exclaim, doubled over laughing for the second time in as many minutes. "I'd already broken your hold on me, that was me having a lark," you tell him, beaming with pride.

Sebastian looks relieved and disappointed all at once.

"That's…that's amazing," he manages. "Broke free from the enchantment on your very first try. You really are something special, you know that?"

You sweep into a low, theatrical bow like a performer on a stage, lips curving up in a smile when he snorts with laughter.

"Alright now, don't get cocky," he chides with a playful roll of his eyes. "While that was excellent for a first try, I still managed to get in a few commands before you broke the enchantment. So, we're going to keep practicing until you're able to completely throw it off from the get-go, alright?"

"Yes, professor," you tease him, stifling one last bout of giggles as he levels you with an admonishing arch of his eyebrow, though the fond upturn of his lips gives him away.

"Cheeky," he chuckles, shaking his head.

You can't help but stick your tongue out at him, further proving his point.

"Now, as you'll have no doubt noticed, fighting off verbal vs. physical commands requires different levels of concentration and technique," he continues, assuming a professorial stance in spite of (or perhaps, unconsciously, because of) your playful commentary. "One is merely a matter of holding your tongue, but it's a different game entirely having to fight for control over the entire rest of your body."

"With that said, I'm going to cast it again," he warns, wand at the ready. "And this time, I want you to practice fighting against a physical command."

"Ready?" he asks, checking in one last time.

"Ready," you nod, back straight as you prepare for the incantation.

"Imperio," he says, and in an instant, that same serene blankness creeps in, only this time, it's like you can make out distinct shapes in the fog, growing clearer and clearer the harder you focus, the more you ground yourself, holding fast to your own thoughts, your own feelings, your own desires.

His task is simple — button his cloak and straighten his tie.

You feel your feet start to move toward him, hands raising to complete the command, when—

No, your own voice rings out, loud and clear. I don't want to do that.

Your hands settle over the front of his cloak, pausing as they inch closer to the open clasp.

Button my cloak and straighten my tie, Sebastian's voice calls out again, more insistent this time. But the voice that answers — your voice — is so much louder and stronger.

No, you stand your ground, snapping back with a triumphant laugh. No, I really don't think I will.

In fact, that's the last thing I want to do right now, you muse, lips curving upward in a cheeky grin.

You can't help but notice how pretty and pale his throat looks beneath it, adam's apple straining with each swallow, caught on the edge of a soft, stuttered groan as you slide your hands up the length of his chest, fingertips dancing across the back of his neck and threading through the soft chestnut curls at his nape. Your eyes follow the movement with a needy, yearning kind of hunger, consumed by the thought of how much prettier it would look littered with pink and purple bruises in the shape of your lips.

A sharp intake of breath sends your senses into overdrive, head swimming in an intoxicating blend of spearmint and strawberry sugar quills lingering on the edge of his lips and the tip of his tongue, and suddenly all you can focus on is how badly you want to taste it. The words kiss me ring out inside your head, desperate and longing, and for a moment, you can't tell whether it's his voice or your own imagination, caught up in a fantasy you've been playing out inside your head for the past two and a half years.

Whatever remains of the enchantment's hold on you is immediately withdrawn, sobriety washing back over you like a sudden plunge into a freezing lake, stumbling forward as Sebastian takes a few cautionary steps back. Instinctively, he reaches out to steady you, gentle hands prying yours from around the collar of his button-up shirt. He holds them there between the two of you for a moment, and then slowly glances down, letting out a small gasp when he realizes he's touching you, and immediately pulls away like he's just been burned.

He looks at you like he's afraid of you, eyes wide with panic and shame, a fiery red heat blossoming in the hollows of his cheeks.

For a moment, you're terrified you've crossed some sort of line, turned his stomach with the regret of having to eat his own words, all that lavish praise he'd bestowed upon you, all those gallant notions of a natural proclivity for responsibility, moral compass thrown off course by the magnet that always seems to pull you toward him.

Your mind reels as you struggle to process what just happened, one little moment changing the course of everything in the space of a few seconds. It all happened so fast — one minute you were fighting against the enchantment, and the next, your hands were in his hair, all sense lost to everything but how soft it felt beneath your fingertips, swept up in the way those warm brown eyes fixed on yours like he burned for you, sunlit warmth and dulcet sugar ghosting across your lips with each breath, and suddenly all you could think about was how desperately you wanted to kiss him, so focused on channeling your own thoughts and feelings into a shield to defend yourself against the curse, you unwittingly summoned everything you've ever wanted to the surface, all those long-held desires you've tried so hard to keep buried, unearthed.

You open your mouth to apologize for getting carried away, scrambling to come up with a reasonable explanation that doesn't involve spilling your deepest secrets, pouring your heart out to the man who's held it captive for years, hoping like hell the connection severed before he heard those stupid little words ring out inside your head, that you haven't completely ruined your friendship — but before you get the chance, he's the one who starts talking, a litany of apologies falling from his lips at a dizzying speed, promising you that he would never, ever use Imperio to make you kiss him of all things, begging you to trust him.

You blink in surprise. What's he on about? Of course you trust him. That was never in question. He's mischievous, certainly, a silver-tongued charmer when he wants to get his way, but you know he would never do anything as villainous as use potions or spells to try to get someone to…to…

Oh.

So you hadn't imagined it, then.

His thoughts. His words. His voice. Wrapped so sweetly around those two little words.

Kiss me.

Not a command, but a subconscious desire, just like yours.

Sebastian wanted you to kiss him.

A mad, blissful smile spreads across your face, heart pounding in your throat as it threatens to leap right out of your chest. Your lips part, willing the right words to come, to assure him it's more than alright, but his anxious steamrolling doesn't give you the chance.

"I'm sorry," Sebastian cries, agonized. "I'm so sorry. You have to believe me, I would never take advantage of you like that. I swear to you it wasn't intentional, I just got carried away in the moment and it sort of slipped out. Beautiful girl tugging at my clothes like that, soft hands running through my hair, the way your eyes sort of burned when you looked at me, I—"

His expression softens to something you'd dare call smitten, lips curving upward in a big, goofy grin as he plays it back, and then quickly shakes his head, admonishing himself.

"Merlin, there I go again," he sighs, wincing in embarrassment as he chances a glance at you, an earnest longing burning in his eyes that makes your heart ache with the need to reach out and touch him. "I've tried so hard for so long to keep my feelings in check, because I know you don't feel the same way, and the last thing I want to do is jeopardize our friendship, so I—"

You're certain the end of that sentence would've been lovely and heartfelt, but you'll never know for sure, the rest of his words swallowed in a soft, surprised oh as you rush forward, closing the distance between you and pressing your lips against his. It's soft and small and tentative, hands gently cradling the sides of his face to keep you both steady, but when you pull back a moment later, Sebastian looks at you like he's just been Confunded, his face an adorable blend between shocked and hopeful, sun-kissed freckles spilling into the curves of his dimples as his lips curve into a bright, blissful smile.

And then, just as quickly as it had appeared, it's gone, replaced by apprehension and disbelief.

"Wait," Sebastian falters, holding you back at arm's length and looking you over with the same care and consideration he'd shown the first time he cast the curse on you, concern etched into his narrowed eyebrows. "Are you still under my spell?"

You can't help the smirk that curls across your lips at his choice of wording.

"In a manner of speaking," you reply, sly smile turning soft as you reassure him, "but not in the way you're thinking."

Sebastian blinks at you, confused.

"Then why would you…do that?" he asks, like he genuinely can't believe you'd kiss him of your own accord.

"Because I wanted to," you tell him, and the weight of it makes you laugh like you're about to cry. "I've wanted to kiss you for so long, Sebastian, you have no idea."

Sebastian's breath comes out in a sharp burst, redolent of that same euphoric laughter bubbling up inside your chest.

"How long?" he asks.

"Since you took the fall for me that night we got caught sneaking into the Restricted Section," you tell him, smiling fondly at the memory.

"The first time, that is," you add with a wry chuckle.

Sebastian lets out a disbelieving laugh, raking a hand through his hair and grinning at you like he would gladly go back and do it all over again.

"And you?" you ask tentatively, hardly daring to believe this is actually happening.

Sebastian's lips pull up into a playful smile.

"About five seconds after you knocked me on my arse during our first duel."

Now it's your turn to let out a surprised laugh. All that time you spent thinking your feelings were one-sided, and he's the one who fell first.

"It took you five whole seconds?" you tease, slipping easily back into your usual banter, reveling in the fact that you can freely flirt with him now.

Sebastian snorts with laughter.

"Yes, well…if you'll recall, I was rather stupid back then," he heaves a dramatic sigh. "After all, it took me two and half years to finally work up the nerve to kiss you."

"I'm the one who kissed you," you remind him, quirking an amused eyebrow at him.

"Ah, still besting me, I see," he chuckles, warm breath ghosting across your lips as he takes a step closer.

"Oh, but I wonder…do I still have the power to knock you on your arse?" you tease in a soft, low murmur.

His eyes do a slow, deliberate sweep down to your lips, tongue darting out to lick his own in anticipation, before slowly trailing back up to meet your eyes.

"Every time you smile at me," he replies with a cheeky smirk.

"You charming bastard," you chide him, laughter swallowed up in another kiss as he leans forward to press his lips against yours.

"Mmm, that reminds me," Sebastian murmurs in between stolen kisses, smiling against your lips as you let out a needy whimper, already addicted to the way he tastes.

"So, earlier…when you called me devilishly charming and told me you wanted to — what was it — chart constellations in the freckles that adorn my handsome face…you really meant that?" he teases, positively beaming.

The look on his face is so smug, you're torn between wanting to knock him on his arse again, and wanting to kiss the stupid smirk right off his stupid, handsome face. (Though you already know which one is going to win out.)

"Oh, fuck off," you laugh. "Yes, I think you're handsome and charming—"

"Devilishly so."

"Yes, yes, you absolute menace. I think we've well and truly established that I like you," you wave him off, rolling your eyes in fond amusement. "Now, shut up and kiss me."

Sebastian chuckles under his breath and starts to lean forward, stopping just short of your lips, making you let out another impatient whine.

"Just one more thing," he says, remnants of mint and sugar ghosting across your lips as he leans in close, voice dropping to a low, prowling murmur. "You are, without a doubt, the most breathtakingly beautiful person on the face of this earth, and I consider it a goddamn tragedy worse than the falling out of the founders that I've gone this long without the pleasure of reminding you every single day from the moment we met."

For a moment, all you can do is stare at him, spellbound by his words, heart aching to leap right out of your throat and build a home inside his chest right next to his own, and then you're rushing forward, closing that hairsbreadth distance that might as well be the space between two mountains, crashing your lips against his and kissing him senseless.

Your hands are everywhere, tugging at his shirt, threading through his hair, pulling him as close as possible. So lost in the intoxicating touch and taste of him that you don't realize you've been steadily moving backwards until your backside collides with the sharp corner of your desk. You let out a startled gasp that quickly turns to laughter, head lolling against Sebastian's shoulder as your own shake with self-effacing mirth.

"Are you alright?" he asks, concern akin to a battle with an ashwinder and not a piece of inanimate furniture. You manage a small nod through your laughter.

"Damn desk, bruising my girl," Sebastian scowls, the words my girl sending a thrill like a bolt of lightning right through you.

You let out a surprised giggle as he picks you up and gently places you on top of the desk, settling between your thighs.

"The only kind of marks you should ever have on you are the ones from my lips," he whispers in between soft, slow, teasing kisses up the length of your neck, sucking a bruise against your pulse point that has you curling your fingers through his hair and moaning his name.

"Always hoped I'd hear you say my name like that," he murmurs in a deep, rumbling growl you can feel thrumming between your ribs like thunder.

Eager to return the favor, you thread your fingers through his hair and give him a gentle yet insistent tug, delighting in the way it elicits a rough, guttural moan in the back of his throat, pulse point jumping beneath your touch as you run your tongue along the curve of his adam's apple.

You're fairly certain one of the buttons goes rolling off under the desk as you tear open his shirt and splay your hands across his chest, pleased to find a whole new canvas of well-earned muscle teeming with sun-kissed freckled dotted between soft patches of chestnut hair, uncharted territory just begging to be mapped out with your lips.

By contrast, Sebastian is equal parts gentle and nervous. Clumsy, trembling fingers work the buttons of your blouse and the lacings of your bra until you're completely bare before him, the flowing fabric of your sleeves hanging loosely off your shoulders. For several long moments, all he can seem to do is stare at you like you're a miracle made real, licking his lips in anticipation as his eyes rake across your breasts.

Sebastian's gaze flickers up to yours, a silent plea. You let out a soft breath, nodding eagerly. In the next second, he's pressed in close again, warm hands skimming up the length of your torso before gently settling under the swell of your breasts, holding you like you're a precious artefact, pleasure sparking low in your core as hard-earned callouses graze across your nipples with a perfect texture.

Sebastian lets out a soft hum as he feels them pebble against the palm of his hand, eyebrows arching in a kind of curious fascination as he glances down at his own hands like he's just performed a spectacular bit of magic. Freckled cheeks curve into an eager smile as he ducks his head down, pressing a series of tentative, exploring kisses from the soft slope of your breasts down to the pale peaks of your nipples, taking one of them into his mouth and applying the gentlest bit of suction as he swipes his tongue across the sensitive bud, grinning in triumph as you let out a lurid moan and arch into his touch.

He pockets that bit of very useful information for later as he slowly makes his way back up toward your lips, eager to kiss you again, peppering fevered kisses across your collarbones and up the length of your neck, not wanting to miss a single inch of skin. Within seconds, he's captured your lips in a searing kiss, one hand tangled in your hair, the other gently cradling your cheek as he kisses you breathless, groaning into your mouth as you pull him flush against you, soft breasts pressed against the hard plane of his chest, heathered skirt hiked up around your hips as he cages you in.

Sebastian's rapidly growing hardness is an insistent pressure between your thighs, sparking your own arousal in a pleasant ache that pulses through your core with each touch. In an effort to get even closer to you, Sebastian shifts, and the head of his cock inadvertently grinds between the gusset of your underwear, sending shock waves of pleasure that have you gasping into his mouth, white-knuckling the sleeves of his shirt.

You can't take it anymore. It's too much and not nearly enough all at once. You need more of him. You need all of him.

"Sebastian," you sigh, breathless between kisses. "Do you— do you have protection?"

"Protection?" Sebastian pulls back to look at you, eyebrows arched in a look of adorable confusion.

"From what? I doubt anything will attack us while we're in—" he stutters as the tip of your finger curls into the waistband of his trousers and gives a suggestive tug forward.

"Oh," Sebastian's eyebrows jump in surprise.

"Unless you don't want—" you immediately pull back, feeling foolish.

"Oh, I want," he insists, drawing you back toward him, voice rough and pleading with exactly how much he wants. "I was just caught off guard. I wasn't expecting—"

Sebastian falters, nerves ramping up again.

"You have to know, when I asked you to come out with me tonight, I wasn't expecting any of this."

"I know you weren't," you reassure him with soft, gentle strokes through his hair. "I trust you, remember?"

Sebastian nods, breathing out on a sigh of relief.

"But, yeah…if you're asking me to be honest…stick a pin in trying to be a gentleman," he lets out a sheepish laugh, one of his hands coming up to attack a phantom itch on the back of his neck. "Then the answer is a resounding, embarrassingly keen yes. I very much want to."

"I do too," you admit with a shy giggle, fingers curling under the collar of his shirt to draw him in for another, softer kiss.

The moment the words leave your mouth, two small crystal phials appear next to you on the desk, labeled in pristine print across each side: infecunditatem temporalis, XXIV h. — temporary infertility, lasting twenty-four hours.

The two of you stare down at them for a moment, blinking in surprise, and then slowly pick them up.

"Well, that's handy," Sebastian remarks with a breathless laugh. "This room really does think of everything."

"Cheers," you murmur softly, instinctually linking arms the same way you've always done for every shot of Firewhisky and post-match Butterbeer toast, before downing your respective phials in one swig.

You set them back down on top of the desk and glance up at one another, suddenly nervous.

"I've never done this before…have you?" you ask, not entirely sure you want to know the answer. You've always been exceptionally close, but you doubt he's told you everything.

"Ah well, you know me…" Sebastian starts with a cocky upturn of his lips, and then immediately deflates, letting out a long, slow, defeated sigh. He knows he'd never be able to lie to you, but a part of him momentarily considers whether he should, irrational fear mingling with a deep-seated insecurity that you'll be put off when you find out he has no idea what he's doing. He's researched, of course. Extensively. But it's not like he's ever put it into practice.

"No," he sighs, admitting it like it's some kind of flaw. "Most I've ever done is kiss someone…and that was back in fourth year…on a dare."

He doesn't miss the way your shoulders relax, relief in the form of a small smile curling across your lips, and suddenly he's very glad he never did anything for the sake of just getting it over with, rebounding his hopeless feelings with some faceless stranger wishing it was you, giddy with a heady mix of nerves and excitement that he'll get to be your first.

And if he's very, very lucky, your only.

"And since?" you nudge, keen to hear him say it.

Sebastian's lips quirk up in a playful grin.

"There's only one person I've wanted to kiss since then," he says, leaning forward to capture your lips in a slow, deep kiss.

"Only one person I've imagined lain on their back as I fall to my knees and bury my lips between their thighs," Sebastian confesses in a low, hungry growl, punctuating each word with a searing kiss as he slowly works his way down the length of your body, mouthing at your neck, between your breasts, across the ticklish plane of your stomach, until he's on his knees in front of you, gazing up at you like you're a brand new constellation in a starless night sky.

"You've no idea how badly I've been longing for a view like this," he says with an appreciative groan, kissing a hungry trail up your inner thighs. "Makes the view from the top of the Astronomy Tower look rather dull by comparison."

You can't help the blissful laugh that escapes you, legs trembling beneath his eager lips. Sebastian pauses his ministrations to look up at you, eyebrows arching in lighthearted indignation.

"Oh, I'm sorry. Did I say something funny?" he admonishes, nipping playfully at your inner thigh and making you let out a sharp peal of laughter.

"No, it's just…oh, please don't take this the wrong way, but I'm just…pleasantly surprised, is all," you giggle.

"Whatever for?" he asks, rising back up to meet you. You throw your arms around his shoulders and pull him close, pressing a kiss to the tip of his nose.

"You hear stories…about men who absolutely refuse to do that sort of thing, yet seem to expect it from their partners," you explain, thinking back to all those hushed conversations you'd overheard in the girls' lavatories, whispered in the dark before bedtime. "I suppose a part of me has always wondered whether you'd be the same. More of a taker than a giver in the bedroom."

Sebastian leans back to look at you, lips pulling into a frown.

"On the one hand, I'm insulted you think I'd do anything short of worship you," he says, diving back in to press a series of hungry kisses up the length of your neck that have you shaking in anticipation of such a promise.

"But on the other," he counters, pulling back to fix you with a teasing smirk. "It's nice to know you've spent a great deal of time thinking about what I'd be like in the bedroom."

A carmine blush creeps across your cheeks as you remember all the times you'd done far more than just think about him, careful to draw your curtains and cast a silencing charm so no one would hear you when you called out his name.

If only he knew…

…come morning, you'll make certain he does.

"Speaking of which—" Sebastian prompts, eyes darting around the room with an appraising frown, before landing on the desktop underneath you, broken quills and crumpled sheets of parchment hastily shoved aside to make room for your — ahem, more amorous ventures.

"This room might be fine for study and spellwork, but it's not the most romantic of places. I can fix that," he says, giving you a wry smile as he offers you his hand and helps you down from the desk.

"Just close my eyes and picture what I want, yeah?" he asks, looking to you for reassurance. You nod in encouragement, slipping your fingers between his and giving the palm of his hand an affectionate squeeze.

Sebastian closes his eyes and concentrates, summoning two and a half years' worth of fantasies to the forefront of his mind. A moment later, there's a soft grind of stone, and the two of you glance up in time to see a marble statue of an owl that's always sat in the alcove between the grasslands and the coastal vivarium twisting into an invisible recess in the floor, revealing a brand new corridor in its wake.

You let out a startled laugh as Sebastian scoops you up into his arms and carries you down the corridor, lulled by the excited thrum of his heartbeat as you bury your face into his chest and wrap your arms around his neck. In just a few short strides, you arrive at the end of the hallway, where a handsome set of oak doors adorned with elegant swirling filigree in blossoming flowers and twisting vines, crescent moons and little stars, springs to life like fast-growing ivy.

You reach out to turn the handle, and for a moment, you're plunged into total darkness, the room beyond an unfinished painting, transforming before your very eyes the moment the two of you step inside, polished floorboards rippling into place like piano keys playing an arpeggio, walls and ceiling a patchwork puzzle as they slowly piece themselves together.

Brushstrokes in deep ocean blues and dark verdant greens turn the heart of the Forbidden Forest under a midnight sky into a painter's palette, dozens of paper lanterns lit by softly flickering candlelight floating all around you like fireflies, bathing the room in hazy hues of silver and gold as they mingle with the light of the crescent moon trickling down from up above, ceiling enchanted to look as though it opens out onto the heavens, night sky glittering with thousands of shooting stars.

A trail of your favorite flower petals leads to a cozy alcove bed cradled between two recessed bookshelves brimming with pristine leather-bounds the two of you will no doubt spend hours perusing at leisure, gossamer curtains woven with intricate stars and crescent moons spilling down across the silken sheets.

The gentle cadence of rainfall taps its fingertips against the glass of an ornate three-paned window set just above the bed, painted in a perfect replica of the sprawling landscapes from the hidden corridor he'd shown you earlier in the night, while a crackling fireplace dances merrily in the heart of a cozy reading nook complete with two plush armchairs tucked together side by side.

Sebastian lets out a contented hum as the last little details of the room settle into place, glancing down to gauge your reaction, eager to know what you think.

"Oh, Sebastian," you whisper as you gaze around the room, candlelight dancing like flecks of gold in your eyes. "It's beautiful."

Sebastian beams. Of all the times you managed to leave him utterly spellbound tonight, it's a point of pride to finally be able to elicit the same response from you.

"Trust I've been dreaming of the perfect place to be romantic with you for quite some time," he murmurs, leaning down to nuzzle his nose against your cheek.

You gaze up at him adoringly and lean up to kiss him, butterflies taking flight in your stomach when you feel the hard press of his uncontainable smile against your lips.

"Now, where were we?" he whispers, whisking you away to the cozy alcove bed at the heart of the room and gently setting you down at its edge between the star-strewn curtains.

As though he can't stand to be parted from you for a second longer, Sebastian sweeps forward to capture your lips in another breath-stealing kiss, gentle hands sliding across the curve of your jaw to thread through the hair at the back of your neck, cradling the back of your head as he kisses you slowly, deeply, savoring every second.

He takes his time peeling off the layers of your clothing, unwrapping you like a gift, hands sliding between bare skin and soft cotton until your blouse comes spilling off your shoulders to pool around your waist, eager lips following its trajectory as he presses a series of adoring kisses down the column of your throat, tongue darting out to smooth across the tender, claiming bruise he'd left on your pulse point, smirking at the way it jumps beneath his touch, gently palming at your breasts as he makes his slow descent.

Where before he'd allowed himself a small taste, this time Sebastian indulges, falling to his knees and burying his face between your breasts, pressing lavish kisses in time to the beat of your heart, before taking the nipple he hadn't had the pleasure of tasting earlier into his mouth and applying a gentle suction, delighting in the way it elicits the same sinful response from you as it did before.

Not wanting to neglect either of them, Sebastian tries to mimic the same technique on the one not currently occupied by his mouth with his fingers, gently kneading the pebbled peak between his thumb and index finger. Clearly it's the right move, because the moment he does both in tandem, you let out a sharp gasp, arching your back in an effort to get even closer to him, fingers curling around the sleeves of his shirt and gripping tight.

Sebastian chuckles, a low rumbling laugh that vibrates like a crackle of thunder inside your chest as he worships every delectable detail of your breasts, until a series of pink and purple bruises in the shape of his lips starts to blossom across your skin. The sight of it stirs something primal inside him, little reminders lasting well beyond tonight that let everyone know you're his.

Sebastian would gladly spend the rest of his days buried between your breasts, but the curious, insatiable, thrill-seeking side of him is eager to keep exploring, map out every inch of your body with his hands, lips, and tongue until he's memorized every single way you love to be touched, keen to know what other addictive sounds he can get you to make.

He presses a trail of kisses down your torso, smiling when you giggle and squirm beneath him as his lips tickle the curves of your stomach, pausing when he reaches the waistline of your skirt.

"Lay back, darling. Let me take care of you," he insists in a low whisper, sending heat like an inferno straight to your core. You do as he asks, hair fanning out across the sheets, a cool press of silk against your fevered skin.

Deft fingers carefully work the buttons at your waist, unraveling your wrap-around skirt until it's laid out flat beneath you. Hands shaking from a mess of excitement and nerves, Sebastian carefully hooks his thumbs into the waistband of your knickers and slowly slides them down your legs, breath hitching when you tilt your hips to help ease them off, giving him a glimpse of your backside.

"Fuck, you're stunning," he says with a wrecked, desperate groan that has you blushing like you've just downed a shot of Firewhisky, laid bare beneath his hungry gaze as he takes a moment to drink you in.

"Can I touch you?" he asks in a quiet, almost pleading voice.

"Please," you tell him, just as desperate.

Nervous, gentle hands slide up along the outside of your thighs, smoothing over the curves of your hips before settling in the space between, breathing out on a soft, stuttered gasp as his fingers thread through the soft patch of curls at the apex of your thighs.

He skims a finger featherlight along the seam of your lips, testing the waters before delving deeper, a low groan rumbling in the back of his throat when he feels how wet you already are for him. Heat pools low in your belly as he slides between your folds in an achingly slow tease, sending shivers like shock waves rolling down the length of your spine, working you into a frenzy as careful, calloused fingers graze your clit.

Once he's satisfied you're ready to take him, fingers coated in your slick, Sebastian slips down to rub teasing circles against your entrance, driving you to the point of madness, canting your hips with soft little whines, until finally, he relents, slowly sliding his ring and middle fingers inside you and curling them in a come hither motion that has you gasping and writhing above him.

"Is this— is this alright?" he asks, concern bleeding through breathless exhilaration.

"It feels amazing, Seb," you manage, yours words barely more than a stuttered moan as his fingers twitch inside you. "Please don't stop touching me."

Your soft gasps and moans guide him to where he needs to go, thumb rubbing heady circles against your clit as his fingers curl in that blissful breath-stuttering way inside you. He works you into a maddening frenzy, pressure slowly building like an arrow being drawn across a bowstring, and Sebastian can't help but let out a low groan each time you flutter and tighten around him. If this is how incredible you feel against his fingers, he can't even imagine how amazing you're going to feel around his cock. Though that particular pleasure will have to wait just a little bit longer, because Sebastian isn't anywhere near finished with you yet.

You let out a needy whine as that delicious pressure suddenly disappears, only to be replaced by a sharp burst of breathless laughter as Sebastian grabs a handful of your backside and hauls you closer to the edge of the bed, coaxing your legs over his shoulders as he buries his face between your thighs.

"Forgive me, darling, but I need to taste you," he groans, tongue darting out to delve between your folds.

"Sebastian," you cry out as a burst of pleasure sparks through you, hands fisting in the sheets. Sebastian lets out another loud moan as you call out his name, tongue gliding down to lick at your entrance, burying himself deep enough to taste your pleasure at the back of his throat, before sweeping back up to capture your clit in a blissful blend of gentle suction and the sinful swirl of his tongue.

Slowly, carefully, he slides his fingers back inside you, curling them against that sweet spot deep within you, lips and tongue working in perfect tandem to worship your clit with the same eager attention he'd given your breasts.

You've never felt so feral in all your life, hands clutching at the sheets as you writhe above him like a wild animal in heat, Sebastian's name spilling from your lips in a flurry of sighs and soft, keening moans. With a contented hum, Sebastian reaches up to gently pry your fingers from the bedspread, lacing his own through yours and giving the palm of your hand an affectionate three-pulse squeeze, encouraging you to hold fast to him instead, not wanting to miss a single detail of just how wild he makes you.

Your other hand follows suit, seeking him out, chestnut curls even softer than the silk sheets as you curl your fingers through his hair and give him an insistent tug, and oh, he really likes it when you're a little rough with him, so desperate and needy for his touch that all you can think to do in that moment is pull him even closer, the low, throaty moans he makes every time you do only serving to heighten your pleasure as they vibrate through your core like rolls of thunder.

He brings you crashing over the edge, wrecked and breathless as you call out his name, begging him between stuttered sighs that you need him to be inside you, now.

Sebastian lets out a soft, blissful breath as he presses a few more kisses to your inner thighs, and then slowly rises to his feet, gaze locked on yours as he swipes the pad of his thumb across his lower lip, tongue darting out to lick the last of your release. The sight is obscene, riling up a primal pride deep within you that only makes you want him even more.

You sit perched on the edge of the bed, reaching up to slide his button-up shirt off his shoulders and running your hands down the length of his torso, soft curves over hard-earned muscle, freckles scattered amidst soft patches of chestnut hair like a star-strewn sky through a forest canopy, pausing to take a steadying breath as you reach the waistband of his trousers. Hands trembling from a mix of nerves and excitement, you carefully work the buttons to relieve him of his trousers, the last layer of clothing left between you.

You take a moment to drink him in, eyes raking down the length of his body in hungry appraisal, letting out a soft gasp as you take in the sight of his generous length, before slowly sweeping back up to meet his gaze again, thrill and desire outweighing any apprehension over his intimidating size. You understand now how he must have felt when he first saw you — every inch of him is absolutely stunning.

You wrap your arms around his neck to pull him down for a kiss, sending the two of you tumbling backward against the pillows, giggling and grinning as you cling to one another. Sebastian kisses you, soft and slow, his body a warm, comforting weight as he settles between your thighs, hovering above you. The two of you breathe in on a stuttered gasp as he takes himself in hand and slides the head of his cock between your folds, coating himself in a combination of his saliva and your release, hesitating as he lines himself up with your entrance.

"Ready?" he asks with a steadying breath, heated gaze locked on yours.

"Ready," you answer, just as breathless as you tilt your hips in invitation.

With a broken, blissed out moan, Sebastian slowly sinks inside, stuttered breaths ghosting across your lips as he closes his eyes and presses his forehead against your own, hips stilling the moment he hears your soft gasp from underneath him.

"How're you feeling, love? Are you alright?" he asks with an edge of panic to his voice, terrified at the thought of hurting you. He keeps still as a statue, giving you a moment to adjust to the sheer size of him.

It's indescribable — the most incredible pressure, a pleasant ache like kneading sore muscles, building and unraveling tension all at once; a feeling of fullness after a life spent starving; a kind of magic even more timeless and powerful than the rarity thrumming through your veins, wonderstruck by how perfectly he fits inside you, like the two of you were made for each other.

"More than alright," you reassure him with a breathless, euphoric laugh. "I feel amazing."

Sebastian lets out a sigh of relief.

"Merlin, that's one word for it," he breathes out on a blissful laugh, eyes rolling back at how amazing you feel wrapped around him. "You're perfect."

He leans down to kiss you, soft and slow and sweet.

"I'm going to start moving now…is that alright?" he asks after a few quiet moments, voice straining like it's been torture holding back.

"Please," you sigh, coaxing him closer as you wrap your legs around the small of his back.

Sebastian sets a slow and steady pace, achingly tender as his hips rock against yours in long, languid thrusts, pressing soft little kisses to your cheeks and the corners of your lips as he moves above you, whispering between kisses how beautiful and breathtaking you are. He's careful and controlled, each move dulcet and deliberate like a slow dance between the sheets, determined to make this perfect for you, determined to get it just right, because it has to be. Because this is you, and you are everything.

He's been dreaming of this moment for years, and a part of him still can't believe it's really happening, that he actually gets to be with you. He's spent the better part of the last two and half years convincing himself you'd never feel the same, that he was lucky just to call you his friend, selfish to want more, that he didn't deserve you…though that never stopped him desperately wanting you all the same.

He understands now why they call it lovesick — feverish blush prickling at his skin, heart beating like a staccato as he moves above you, hands trembling as they gently cradle the back of your head and draw you in for a slow, sweet kiss. It's all-consuming, burning through him in equal measures of fiery fervor and glowing embers, like he's just swallowed an Incendio charm. Incurable — though this is one life sentence he'll gladly serve.

It's overwhelming how amazing you feel wrapped around him, soft hands threading through his hair and tugging ever so gently, legs locked around his hips to keep him anchored in your depths, shallow gasps and stuttered ohs whispered in between soft sighs in the shape of his name as you gaze up at him like he is everything to you.

It would be all too easy for him to lose himself in the euphoria of finally getting to be with you, and Merlin, he wants to.

He wants all of you. It's like he can't get close enough, a primal hunger to fuse himself with you, body and soul, bury himself inside you like treasure, climb inside your chest and build a home inside your heart, dive down to your depths and spill all his secrets inside you, long-held confessions of how deeply he's fallen for you.

The words bubble up inside his chest like steam inside of a screaming tea kettle, burning his throat as years worth of messy, nerve-addled feelings threaten to spill past his lips. He wants to kiss the words into your skin, knit his love so deep within you, you feel it in your bones, with each pulse of your heart, his name a subliminal sigh with each breath you take, until you're inextricably woven together, until he's an irrevocable part of you, just as you are for him.

He aches for you to be his, because he's so desperately yours. He'd shout it from the top of the Astronomy Tower, from the stars themselves, if he could.

But if he does…he's afraid you might actually hear him. And Sebastian can't have that. He can't let you know the true depth of his feelings. Not yet. It's too soon, too much for something so fragile and new. He knows he can be a little intense, a little overwhelming. When Sebastian loves, it's fierce and unwavering, and as much as he wants to tell you, show you, how deeply he loves you, he's afraid the intensity of his feelings will drive you away.

He supposes that's one of the many reasons he's always been so drawn to more fiery forms of magic. After all, they're just like him. Fervent. Insatiable. Incendiary. Kindred — kindling — spirits. Cast with the best intentions — to protect and keep warm — but one wrong move, too much, and it becomes dangerous, destructive.

Sebastian has spent his whole life being told as much — that he's too much. Overzealous. Unrelenting. Reckless. Doesn't know when to stop. Breaks everything he touches. Loses everyone he loves.

He can't lose you too.

He's a wildfire, and you— you're a forest teeming with birdsong and greenery, and he's terrified that with one wrong move he'll burn you to the ground, when all he wants to do is keep you warm.

So he holds himself back, concentrates all his efforts into taking it slow, swallowing a symphony of lovesick confessions and pouring the softest version of his love into every touch, determined to make this perfect for you, determined to get this just right. Because maybe, if he gets this right, he'll actually be lucky enough to keep you.

"So perfect," he sighs as he moves above you, soft and sweet.

"Tell me what you need, love," he urges between stuttered breaths and slow, languid thrusts. "To make this perfect for you, too."

You can tell he's holding back — each touch a little too gentle, a little too careful, a little too reserved — and you think you know why, because you know him.

Sebastian Sallow has never done anything halfheartedly, so when he loves, it's without reservation — fiercely, deeply, perhaps a little madly.

You also know that he's lost just about everyone he's ever loved.

Though you've never actually spoken the words out loud, you know that he loves you too. It's always been there, unspoken, thrumming beneath the surface of every interaction.

You can hear it in the silence of a lazy afternoon spent cloud-watching under the shade of a flutterby tree in the summoner's courtyard, splayed hands edging across the grass until you feel the accidental brush of his pinky finger against yours.

In little gestures played off as teasing banter, covert hands sliding stacks of toast and chocolate croissants across the shared desk of your first class, wrapped in scribbled notes admonishing you for missing breakfast after yet another sleepless night.

It's in the way you wish each other goodnight, stretching out the moment with hastily stifled bouts of laughter and stolen glances over your shoulders as you watch him make the long trek back from Ravenclaw Tower to Slytherin Dungeon, hesitant to part after yet another nighttime lark, despite the fact that you know you'll see each other the very next day.

In the way he insists on coming along with you on some of your more daring ventures, pushing down his deep-seated fear of spiders and instinctively stepping between you and a thornback ambusher seconds away from incapacitating you with its venom.

You've always known Sebastian loves you, but up until tonight, you've always thought it was in the same way he loves Anne and Ominis. Fond. Familial. Kindred.

That was before you'd felt the weight of his lips against yours, the tremble in his hands as he'd pulled you close, the beat of his heart thundering in time with your own.

Now that you know it runs even deeper — not just friendly or familial love, but romantic love, too — it adds a whole new layer of vulnerability. And if he loves you the way you think he does, the same way you love him, then you know why he's holding back. Because when someone is your whole heart, the prospect of losing them is that much more terrifying.

This is a man who has endured more pain and loss than most people could even dare to imagine. This is a man filled with more fear and guilt than anyone should ever have to bear. Afraid to fuck up again. Afraid to hurt you again. Afraid to lose what little remains of the people he loves. Afraid to let himself have what he wants, because deep down, he still doesn't think he deserves it.

Afraid that he is too brash, too broken, too intense, too much for anyone to ever want, the weight of his grief too heavy for anyone else to carry, spirit too bright and burning for anyone to ever want to get close enough to touch.

And maybe he is. Maybe he is too much. But that's never stopped you wanting all of him just the same. If he is an untamed beast, then your heart is a vivarium, a home built for an occamy at its full potential. For you, he could never be too much, because you could never get enough of him.

He's a wildfire, but you've always been drawn to his warmth, his light, bright sparks lighting up your coldest, darkest nights. You wouldn't just walk through his flames, you'd dance in them, safe in the knowledge that you'll never get burned.

Because he's a wildfire, but you are a hurricane, and you're more than a match for his heat.

So when he asks you, soft and sweet, what you need make this perfect for you, that's exactly what you tell him.

"You. Just you," you sigh as you lean up to press a trail of kisses in between the freckles that dapple the pale column of his throat. "I want all of you, Sebastian. Please, show me how badly you've been wanting me all this time, too. Don't hold anything back. I can take it…anything and everything you're willing to give."

Sebastian's hips still as he pulls back to look at you, lips parted in surprise.

"Are— are you sure?"

You lean up to kiss him, slow and deep, your answer little more than a sigh against his lips.

"I'm yours, Sebastian. I've always been yours," you whisper. "Now all you have to do is take what's yours."

Sebastian gazes at you, stunned for a moment, breath catching in his throat. And then his eyes darken, and that charming smile that's always made you weak in the knees curls across his lips, adoration burning like the heart of a wildfire in his irises as he keeps his steady gaze locked on yours.

He laces his fingers with yours and pins your entwined hands above your head, holding you captive, using them as an anchoring point as he begins driving into you with rough, zealous thrusts that hit deep and steal your breath, his other hand coming up to smooth across your cheek as he pulls you in for a kiss, swallowing his own name as it falls from your lips in a stuttered sigh.

"Like this, love?" Sebastian groans, the hard line of his smirk pressed against your lips. "Is this how you want me fuck you?"

"God, yes. Please, Sebastian—"

"As you wish, darling," he growls, picking up pace even faster, his thrusts coming even rougher. "You've no idea how badly I've wanted to have you just like this."

"Tell me," you urge, voice barely more than a whisper.

A litany of lovesick confessions spill from his lips in between desperate, hungry kisses: how deeply he adores you, how beautiful you look laid out beneath him, how amazing you feel wrapped around him, how you must've been made for each other with how perfectly you fit together, how he's been dreaming of being with you like this for so long and he can't believe he's lucky enough to actually have the real thing.

How he'd love nothing more than to keep you forever, make you his in every possible sense of the word (because he's yours, he's always been yours, every beat of his heart belongs to you and you alone) wants you to feel the ache of him throbbing between your thighs days after he's made love to you, a constant reminder of what you've done together; wants to leave claiming bruises all over each other's necks so that everyone will know you belong to one another.

You tilt your head back, bearing your neck in offering, and Sebastian lets out an appreciative groan, swooping down to leave another mark right below the first, fire dancing in his eyes are he pulls back to admire his work.

"Mine," his voice rumbles through you like thunder as he presses the word into your pulse point.

"Yours," you sigh, leaning up to graze your teeth along the column of his throat, eager to claim him in return.

It's enough to drive him over the edge, burying his face in your neck and breathing in deep, greedy lungfuls like you're a burst of fresh air after a life spent drowning, praising you between hungry kisses. How he could gladly spend the rest of his life right here between your legs. How wild you drive him with the sounds you make, the way you call out his name.

"I've wanted to hear you say my name in every possible way — in laughter, in sighs, in gasps…in screams," he says with a prideful smirk as he gives a rough snap of his hips that hits deep enough to pull his name from your throat in a sharp, breathless gasp.

Sebastian lets out a low, throaty chuckle that sends shock waves straight to your core, heating burning every inch of your skin like a shot of Firewhisky as he tells you how badly he wants to watch you come undone beneath him, feel you wrapped around him as your body clings to him, see himself reflected in your eyes as you call out his name, to know that he's the only one who can make you feel like this, take you apart just to be the one that completes you.

The hand that's spent all this time tangled in your hair, gently pressed against the curve of your cheek, comes down to wrap around your waist, tilting your hips upward and pulling you roughly against him, the new angle giving him access to an even deeper sweet spot inside you, each thrust causing the space where you're connected to grind against that sensitive bundle of nerves, sending waves of pleasure radiating throughout your entire body as he keeps a steady, consistent rhythm, buried to his hips between your thighs, building you to climax until you're crashing over the edge, fingers laced with his as you fall together, fluttering around him, pulling him in even deeper, an endless chorus of I love you, I'm so in love with you, I'm yours falling from his lips as he spills deep inside you, calling out your name like it's a sacred prayer and you're his salvation.

Sebastian collapses against you, panting against your neck and pressing lazy kisses to your cheek before rolling to the side to lay on his back. You're barely able to get out a breath before he's pulling you into him, coaxing your head onto his chest, wrapping his arms around you in a protective hold, burying his face into the top of your hair and breathing you in with deep, contented sighs.

The words he'd said to you as he'd fallen over the edge repeat inside your head like a mantra, pulling your lips into a bright, blissful smile.

"Sebastian?" you ask as you snuggle in closer, heart full.

"Yes, darling?" he asks, still breathless but utterly blissed, voice muffled by your hair.

"I love you too."

You feel his whole body relax, exhaling on a long, slow, contented sigh that almost sounds like a sob toward the end, like he's relieved to hear you say it out loud.

"D'you know," he says into the comfortable silence after a few moments, lips pulled into a bright smile as he glances over at you. "I've seen entire ecosystems co-existing inside a single room tonight — bloody hell, I saw a phoenix — and all of that still couldn't even hope to compare to being with you," he marvels, still a little breathless. "To think, we could've been— I mean, two and a half years. I can't believe it took us this long to finally act on our feelings."

You lift your head, a playful look in your eyes as you gaze up at him dreamily.

"We just took the scenic route," you tell him, smiling as you lace your fingers together and press a kiss against each of his knuckles in turn.

Sebastian's chest rumbles with laughter as he nuzzles in even closer, pressing kisses to the top of your crown. You do the same to his chest, charting constellations of your own design in the sun-kissed freckles you find there, falling into a deep, comfortable sleep before you have the chance to name them all.

#hogwarts legacy #sebastian sallow #sebastian sallow fanfiction #sebastian sallow x mc #sebastian sallow x reader #forbiddenfairytales #forbiddenxfairytales #fanfiction

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hometoursandotherstuff · 4 months

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An Culu, this 1990 Gothic style castle in Kenmare, Co Kerry, Ireland was put on the market in 2007, for €15m and sold 13 yrs. later “at a price close to the asking figure of €4.5 million.” ($4.89M)

When the original owner bought the 4.5 acre land, he couldn't decide what to build on it, until the planners said, "You've got to build a castle."

Cozy sitting room with a massive fireplace and mezzanines above. The new owner intends to spend a large part of the year at An Culu “where he plans to entertain overseas guests and business associates as well as being able to appreciate some down time in this luxurious haven.”

Look at the living room (the original owner and his family lived here full time until the kids grew up and it was too big).

Love this sun room.

The large kitchen is modern.

The stairs are very grand.

The primary bedroom is suitable for royalty.

But, look at the grotto style pool in the basement rec room.

There's a nice big patio on the water.

Amazing that it took 13 years to sell.

#castles #castle ireland #houses #house tours #home tour

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kiy-anna · 11 months

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Am I Feeling Love?

Part 1 (You Are Here) Part 2 Part 3a Part 3b

Characters: Azul Ashengrotto x Fem!Reader

Synopsis: From the moment Azul Ashengrotto heard of soulmates as a small child, he had a vision of a beautiful life with someone who was meant for him - regardless of what he was or would become…

Word count: 5.3k+

Warnings: Some Yandere elements

Notes: I wanted to thank @yanderloversworld on tumblr for the yandere!Azul w/ Soulmate S/O headcanons/backstory that I saw for inspiring this piece. I’ve never written anything like this before, but I wanted to give my hand at it - especially since it involves my favorite cecaelia character from twisted Wonderland. You can check it out here: https://www.tumblr.com/yandereloversworld/718766985773760512/yanazul-with-a-soulmate-so?source=share

The two songs used to inspire this story:

Am I Feeling Love? (The Thief and the Cobbler/Arabian Knight Soundtrack): https://youtu.be/NXYnClTZ4QY

One Day She'll Love Me (The Emperor's New Groove Soundtrack): https://youtu.be/8Sv3ECj7PdY

***I have an update! Part 2 now Available to read on my side blog @ashensgrotto***

***

I close my eyes and see his eyes

So soft and warm and clear

I dream awake of holding her

I dream that she’s right here

I sense in all his silences

More than his words could say

‘Don’t fight your feelings’ says my heart

A heart I will obey

***

“Azul… we need to talk.”

The sound of his mother’s broken voice pulled Azul’s attention to the larger cecaelia as all eight of his tiny tentacles stilled, each and every one of his appendages dropping an assortment of books, quills, and shells to the grotto’s floor as the silver-lavender haired boy looked upon his mother. The typically confident cecaelian now appeared scared and upset; her pale baby blue eyes were wide with worry and her ruby lips were set in a straight line - her heavy-set body swayed with the current that entered their home while her black-colored tentacles fidgeted nervously, the lavender underbelly of each appendage curling into itself repeatedly before releasing its grip on emptiness.

Azul stood, his own appendages curling inward, “Can this wait, momma? I’m very busy at the moment-”

“I’m afraid it can’t, baby,” his mother entered his room before perching herself on his bed, tapping the seafoam cushion, “come here.”

Azul sat beside his mother, looking down at his hands before looking up at his mother, who watched him with interest.

“Zully… the neighbors have told me they’ve seen you sneaking out at night,” his mother spoke quietly, “and it has been apparently going on for a while - without my knowledge. You and I both know that night is a terrible time to be going out, especially alone - you’re smart enough to know that you could’ve been seriously injured or killed by the creatures that lurk just beyond the reef of our city. Do you know how heartbroken I would be if I lost you?”

“I know, momma… but, I promise I have a good reason!”

“What good reason would you have for sneaking out in the middle of the night?”

“My soulmate.”

His mother looked taken back, her hand reaching to clutch the Nautilus shell necklace that rested on her collarbones as her already wide eyes widened further, “...S-Soulmate?”

“Yes!” Azul’s powder-blue eyes sparkled like gems in a treasure chest as a huge grin spread across his features, “I overheard some of the merkids talking about them at school a few weeks ago - o-of course I had initially thought they were talking about me, since I seem to come up in conversation here and there… but still! Oh, momma! To know that there’s someone out there that is literally MEANT to be WITH ME! Me! Azul Ashengrotto!”

“Zully, now wait a minute-”

“At first the concept did fascinate me,” Azul continued, slowly standing and moving to the opposite end of his room while ignoring his mother’s words, “and what intrigued me more than anything was that my soulmate would love and cherish every last thing about me - not the way the other merkids see me as; a pathetic, fat… ugly crying octopus fry that can’t even excel in studies or athletics. The silly little octo-twerp that’s an ink spiller.”

“Zully, you know that’s not-”

“But you know what momma? Thinking about my soulmate has made the days so much easier, even when I’m getting bullied - I think about them seeing what those other merkids are doing and they put a stop to it, saying things like, ‘Leave Azul alone! He’s not a pathetic little octo-twerp!’” Azul turned to his mother again, his tentacles writhing with excitement, “So, to be ready to meet them, I’ve been working to increase my knowledge - I want to be so powerful like the great Sea Witch herself that my soulmate will know who I am by sight alone! I’ve studied every book I could get my hands on and have memorized every single potion recipe there is available - even learning how to improve its effects and prolong them even! I’ve even studied every law text there is in the Atlantica public library - I have every law memorized word for word.”

His mother sighed, running a hand through her silvery locks, the motions creating little bubbles that appeared as she let out a sigh, “Azul, there’s something you should know-”

“As for the sneaking out,” Azul continued, throwing his hands behind his back as his fingers twisted together while he rocked back and forth on the edges of his eight appendages, “I was searching for my soulmate. I don’t know if they are here in the Coral Sea or not-”

“Azul, please listen to me-”

“But I wanted to see if I could find them. The first few nights after learning about their existence, I was having trouble sleeping - so I started doing a short swim to clear my head. I promise I wasn’t going too far away from the house! However, on those walks, it got me thinking that maybe instead of sleeping, I should be searching for them. There was no better use of my time than to strive for a better life with someone who must sense my loneliness like I sensed theirs…”

“...If they weren’t so rare, baby.”

Azul snapped to attention, his eyes wide, “W-What?”

His mother rested one hand on her knees while the other rubbed at her forehead, “Zully, I know and understand your longing to belong and to have a friend - trust me, I’ve been there. However, you can’t fixate on a single being that you hope to encounter at some point in your life. Finding that so-called ‘other half’ is like - well - like the story of the mermaid princess and her longing to be with a human. It’s a rare occurrence that only happens once in a millennium if not longer. Many times, people - humans, fae, and merfolk alike - often settle for someone they are content and happy with, someone that isn’t their other half.”

Azul stared in shock, inky tears threatening to spill down his chubby cheeks, as his hands balled into fists, “No! No! That isn’t true! What about you and daddy when he was alive?! Both of you were soulmates!”

“No we weren’t… At least, I don’t think we were,” Azul’s mother came forward, resting a hand gingerly on her son’s shoulder, “Anyone can be happy with or without their soulmate, Azul. There’s no reason you should go to such lengths to be with someone who may not even exist. You may not even meet them in this lifetime, either…”

“THAT’S NOT TRUE!” Azul pushed her away, anger bubbling up as his tentacles writhed in anger, his vision becoming blurry as ink spilled down his face as he snapped at his mother and guardian, “HOW DARE YOU!? You DON’T KNOW ANYTHING ABOUT the CONNECTION BETWEEN SOULMATES! THEY FEEL AS I FEEL! THAT CONNECTION IS WHAT MAKES US UNIQUE!! An UNBREAKABLE BOND that CAN NEVER BE SEVERED!! And how DARE you CHEAT on your OWN SOULMATE!”

“Azul! Now wait a minute!” his mother raised her voice, “I’ve been around the bend a few more times than you have and know about these sorts of things. I WILL NOT ALLOW this behavior to continue in my house!”

“Fine! Then I’ll leave!”

“Azul! Where are you going?! Azul!!”

But the little cecaelia was gone, swimming as fast as he could away from his mother’s typically loving embrace.

‘How could she?!’ he mind was running as he sped up to get further and further away from his home, ‘How could she say that? Why momma… why?!’

He was sniffing hard when he arrived at his hidden octopot, big ugly fat tears of black rolling down his chubby cheeks while mucus dribbled down his nose, running into his open mouth as he gasped out big grotesque sobs. He pulled himself along enough to climb into the pot, his appendages pulling him into the confined space as comfort slowly surrounded his shaking form. One tentacle came forward, wiping at the tears in his eyes as Azul allowed his hearts to calm down.

He wrapped his arms around himself as he looked out into the darkness of the Coral Sea; the pale moonlight reflected off the caverns that surround Azul’s hiding spot, the water growing colder and colder with each passing hour as several sea creatures passed over - not that Azul noticed though. Normally, he would have been interested in what creatures came out at night - but the words his mother spoke forced a jolt of pain on all three of his hearts.

“You can’t fixate on a single being that you hope to encounter at some point in your life,” her words echoed in his mind over and over, “Finding that so-called ‘other half’ is like - well - like the story of the mermaid princess and her longing to be with a human. It’s a rare occurrence that only happens once in a millennium if not longer. Anyone can be happy with or without their soulmate, Azul. There’s no reason you should go to such lengths to be with someone who may not even exist…”

‘What if she’s right?’ he thought, his tentacles tightening around his body, ‘What if I never find them? What if they think the same way she does? What if… what if they’ve already been taken from me?!’

His eyes narrowed as a darkness slowly filled them, glaring out into the cruel twisted world from the darkness of his octopot. No, even if his soulmate was already claimed he would’ve known - he would know if they were, he’d felt it; the tangling of another soul within his if his other half were to be mated to another without his consent. However, that hadn’t happened yet.

…for now.

Azul curled deeper into himself, his thoughts growing darker and darker as he made plans to continue his search for his other half; his beloved soulmate. He wouldn’t give up the search, even if he died trying. He wanted to see them; see what they looked like and to hear their sweet voice, to feel a sense of belonging… to protect what was rightfully his.

***

I'd never imagined before that the world could be turned on its head

I'd never have thought to be here in this place

I'd never have dreamt that in love I'd be lost and so easily led

I guess I was caught by that hint of a smile on her face

***

“Azul-chan, are we almost finished here?” a figure on the cecaelian’s left muttered, “I’m bored.”

“Floyd,” the figure on Azul’s right spoke up, murmuring and pressing a finger to his lips, “There are still some students that need to be housed. Just be a little bit more patient.”

“Speaking of which,” Azul eyed the two carefully, “Any news from our sources, Jade?”

“It’s rather difficult to track down something when we ourselves don’t know what we’re looking for,” the second figure - Jade - answered softly, “A description usually helps in these circumstances, Azul.”

“Perhaps,” the cecaelian shrugged indifferently, “however, it’s hard to pinpoint exactly what I’m looking for, myself.”

The two second-in-commands looked at each other, confusion crossing their features.

Ten years had passed slowly since that terrible day when Azul’s mother planted the first seeds of doubt into her son’s head, her chiding and the doubts never leaving him completely. However, that did not stop him from continuing his search for his other half - exhausting himself beyond belief. By the time Azul was twelve - nearly five years following his discovery of the existence of soulmates - he had searched every crevice of the Coral Sea with no luck; it was also around this time that he met the Leech twins - Floyd and Jade.

Jade was the oldest of the two by a few minutes and was very resourceful as well as very soft-spoke and courteous; his younger brother, Floyd, on the other hand was unpredictable due to his mood swings - he could be interested in one thing one minute and grow bored of it the next. The two moray mers had come across Azul during his younger days when they were in the same class together, watching with awe as his eight appendages hovered about his hidden grotto, writing inscriptions on shells and flipping through pages of grimoires. Originally, they weren’t sure what to make of him, but now that they knew about his capabilities from stories they heard about someone granting wishes for a price - the two were now invested in keeping Azul close to their sides.

And vice versa.

Eventually, the question of why he was doing it came up; Azul took the time to explain the story about how he had first learned about soulmates and how he had been searching the past five years for his, eventually coming to the conclusion that his other half was nowhere in the Coral Sea.

“I have searched every nook and cranny of these waters and have yet to find them,” Azul explained, pouring ingredients into a cauldron as he spoke, “Thus, I’m ‘using my resources’ to spread out the search for my other half.”

“So, some of your deals include gathering any information about a particular person whom you’ve never met nor spoken to?” Jade asked, very intrigued by Azul’s train of thought.

“Hah… sound boring,” Floyd chimed in, reclining atop of one of the rocks in the grotto.

“It’s more interesting than it sounds,” Azul answered, popping a cork off a bottle and dumping the contents into the cauldron as the liquid turned from pale pink to eerie green, “besides, the sooner I find them, the better off they’ll be. However, the problem here lies that if they’re not in the Coral Sea - then where are they?”

Neither of the twins could supply an answer.

It was also around this time that Azul’s appearance had also changed. Baby fat melted and hardened into muscle while his gut and belly dissolved into toned skin, chubby cheeks evolved into high cheekbones; his face sharpening into arched brows, thin lips, and a pointed nose - though his eyes, now filled with knowledge and pride, remained the same. Gone was - in Azul’s opinion - the fat crying octo-twerp of his youth as a handsome, defined sea witch stood in his place; a perfect figure that his soulmate would be proud of once they set sights on him.

The dramatic weight-loss and muscle built scared, not only Jade and Floyd, but also his own mother - whom he did speak to on seldom occasions due to her connections as the owner of the Atlantica Grotto Bistro, which was slowly becoming a local hot spot and where Azul worked full time as a waiter and assistant manager. It was also where he would lure unsuspecting victims - mainly those from his youth or clients with means - into signing his newly-perfected golden contracts, sealing their powers away for his own in exchange for whatever it was that they wished for. Of course, Azul’s mother never suspected a thing about her son’s side business - now a bit preoccupied with the courtship of an older squid mer who had slowly made a presence in her life as well as teaching Azul the fundamentals of building his own business.

When Azul, Jade, and Floyd reached the age of sixteen, they were invited to attend Night Raven College - a boys’ prestigious school for young mages. Azul’s mother had been proud of Azul’s accomplishment and Azul, himself, was secretly thankful that he would be given the chance to explore a different world versus hearing things through the grape vines from his sources. It was during his first year of attending that he made a name for himself, following practically in his mother’s and the Sea Witch’s footsteps; he was now the headwarden and the owner of the Mostro Lounge that his dorm - Octavinelle - operated on the school property. He also was the student others went to when they needed help or had a wish that only he could grant. Jade and Floyd both helped as well, taking his place into luring potential clients into his clutches.

Now, the three of them were entering their second year at NRC - and Azul was barely hanging on by a thread. For the past year on land - thanks to the potion he created that would allow himself, Jade, and Floyd to attend the school as humans - Azul had used his network of informants to extend his search for his other half.

He never forgot the promise he made to continue his search for his soulmate - the contracts were just a starting point to his grand scheme for searching for the person who would love and cherish him as no other could. By building a name for himself, Azul essentially had been given enough money to spend as much as he pleased for information about any leads and his extensive network of informants were at his beck-and-call should he need them to snoop out any potential tips he heard. He had cleared out both Harveston during winter break the previous year and the Queendom of Roses as well as the Shaftlands the previous summer before he was summoned to return to Night Raven. Sunset Savanna would be next on his list during the winter break this year and he would attempt Briar Valley over the summer.

But even that wasn't soon enough it seemed.

Azul’s spirit was practically crying out with each failed search, lead, and tip - nearly to the point that his soul was exhausted and he found himself hearing his mother’s chiding words in his inner ear again. But he was stubborn - incredibly so; and he made plans before leaving his home city again to extend any knowledge to him from outside the school’s barriers.

Azul sighed as the last first year was placed into their dorm, forcing a smile as he addressed his new students, crossing his arms over his chest, "New students! I congratulate you on your achievement. As the dorm head of Octavinelle, I am honored to have the opportunity to support you in what I hope will be a fulfilling campus experience.”

"Hey, does anyone know where the headmage went?" Azul arched his brow as the dorm head of Pomefiore, Vil Schoenheit, spoke, “He disappeared midway through the ceremony…”

"Some headmage he is," Idia Shroud, the head of Ignihyde, grumbled from his tablet that hovered in the chamber.

"Maybe he had a tummy ache?" the ever naive dorm head of Scarabia - Kalim Al-Asim - asked with a shrug.

The doors burst open as the head mage himself appeared, shouting, "I most certainly did not!"

"Ah, speak of the devil," Riddle Rosehearts, the dorm head of Heartslabyul, grumbled, crossing his arms over his chest.

"If you must know," the headmage continued, pulling a cloaked figure along with him, their slender wrist tight in his grasp, "I was searching for the new student who failed to show for orientation. Come along, you are the only one who hasn't been assigned to a dorm - step up to the dark mirror and be quick about it. I'll hold onto your weasel."

Azul watched as the headmage pulled the figure along, causing them to stumble slightly, before he released them. The cloaked figure lifted their head, taking a tentative step towards the mirror as the headmage held tightly onto another being - a little gray cat creature with burning fire in his ears with eyes wider than saucer plates. Something about the shy figure had drawn Azul utmost attention as they stood before the dark mirror.

“State your name,” the mirror spoke, its voice deep and dark.

“I’m (Y/N),” you spoke, so quiet that everyone had to strain to hear them.

“(Y/N)... The nature of your soul is…” the dark mirror hesitated, narrowing its pitch-black eyes before announcing, “...unclear to me.”

“What did you just say?” the headmage crossed his arms over his chest as a murmur rippled through the crowd.

“I sense no magical power from this one,” the dark mirror answered, voice grim, “Soundless. Colorless. Shapeless. Utterly vacant… Therefore, no dorm would be appropriate.”

With his final answer, the headmage let out a cry, “Are you suggesting the black carriage went to recieve a person who cannot even use magic?! That is absurd! The student selection process has not erred once in its century of existence!”

As head headmage continued to squawk in surprise, Azul nearly felt his heart stop in his chest when you looked in his direction.

As soon as your eyes locked with his, Azul knew.

His soulmate was here.

You were a pretty (h/c) with tints of (f/c) weaved into locks that framed your soft features hidden under the black and gold hood of the ceremonial robe you wore, the exotic eyes of (e/c) filled with wonder and surprise - with an underlying hint of fear, likely due to the shock of being called ‘abnormal’ by a piece of looking-glass. You looked about a few inches shorter than him - a perfect height for him to rest his chin upon your head - as a pleasant pink painted your cheeks, turning them into red delicious apples that tempted Azul to take a bite, and your jaw dropped slightly, lips parting with surprise.

Azul knew that you could feel the strong connection between your two souls - the pull he had searched the past decade for finally presenting itself in the shape of you. He found himself unable to look away, staring at you with quiet longing and lovestruck clearly written across his features.

“Azul?” Jade snickered, “What is-”

“I think octy just found what he was lookin’ for, Jade,” Floyd snickered, his eyes shifting between the startled first-year and their lovestruck boss.

“I quite agree,” Jade’s voice came out sickly smooth as his eyes shifted between the three of them, “this has just gotten interesting…”

Azul hardly noticed though the twins’ snickers in his ears, his thoughts were already running wild with ideas of how he wanted to spoil you - his found other half, his precious mate.

The problem now was that you were a non-magic user and a female to boot - nevermind that you had just been put on display like an exotic animal. The whispers that echoed in the chamber forced you to look away from the lovestruck second-year, your body quivering with fear and unease as he himself was brought back to reality.

‘How DARE they insult her while in my presence?’ Azul felt a growl bubble up in the back of his throat, his pale blues shifting from the crowd to his mate to the headmage and back again as his hands curled into fists under the sleeves of his cloak, ‘And how DARE the dark mirror put (Y/N) in this situation!’

“Headwardens,” the headmage’s voice echoed in the chamber, silencing every whisper as he took control of the situation, “please escort your students back to the dorms as the orientation is now complete.”

“What about (Y/N)?” the voice of Coach Vargas spoke up, “Surely you are not expecting someone like her to remain here?”

‘And you’re first on the list of people who will suffer my wrath for saying something so hostile to my mate,’ Azul thought, thinking of what the best way would be to attack the coach indirectly.

“This is a most unfortunate turn of events, yes,” the headmage agreed, tapping his chin in thought, “Due to you being female and that you are a non-magic user, I’m afraid I cannot allow you to attend Night Raven College. You seem like an amicable young lady, however this is an all-boy’s school and I cannot admit a student - male or female - with no magical ability. But fear not, the dark mirror will see you safely home.”

‘NO! You CAN’T!’ Azul was barely holding himself together at this point - he had just found his soulmate and now the world wanted the two of them to be separated forever?! He would not allow it!

Before he could act on impulse, the mirror’s deep voice echoed in the chamber, “There is no such place.”

“What?!” Crowley squawked again as murmurs rose from the crowd yet again.

“There is no place in this world where this soul belongs,” the dark mirror answered again, “None.”

“H-How can that be?!” Crowley asked, his hands shaking with an inner rage, “My, but today is a veritable cavalcade of impossible phenomena! This has never happened throughout my long tenure. I must confess I am at something of a loss.”

Azul could sense the sadness radiating from his mate as well. Were you disappointed that you couldn’t return from wherever you had come from? And if so, why would you want to go back if now you knew of his existence?

Perhaps a little persuasion was needed…

Azul smiled darkly, before taking a step forward, clearing his throat, “Headmage Crowley, I understand that all of us are at a loss of what to do with our strange guest - however, may I offer a solution to our little problem?”

“Master Ashengrotto,” Headmage Crowley crossed his arms over his chest, “I’m not certain what you mean. We must send (Y/N) back to where they came from.”

“And how do you propose we do that?” Azul countered, shrugging while keeping his eyes trained on the headmage while he faked a painful look, “It is easy to return us to our homes, but we have no idea where she comes from - or if we can even get her back.”

“T-There must be a way though… right?” you spoke up, your eyes pleading with Azul’s.

“I hate to agree with Azul, but he’s right,” a tan-skinned, dark-haired figure spoke up, “If this herbivore is from another world entirely, the chances of getting them back are slim to none.”

“Leona is quite right on the money with that one,” Vil answered with a nod.

Azul smiled, knowing that the ripples of shock and disbelief were now falling onto the headmage for being incompetent in dealing with this matter. He couldn’t turn (Y/N) away now that Azul had spoken up with two additional dorm heads also taking his side.

“What do you propose then?” Headmage Crowley asked, eyeing the headwarden of Octavinelle uneasily.

“Octavinelle, as I’m sure you remember, has plenty of rooms for rent,” Azul answered, turning to (Y/N) with a reassuring smile, “As the dorm head, I will gladly take (Y/N) into my dorm where she can stay during her time here. If she’s agreeable, she can work within the Mostro Lounge to pay for a place to sleep and to have food in her belly.”

“I’m not sure, Master Ashengrotto…” Crowley spoke, rubbing his chin with a clawed gloved hand, “a single woman in a dorm filled with boys is highly improper…”

“Improper would be the term used for the predicament your so-called black carriage put you in,” Azul snipped, his eyes flashing dangerously at the headmage, “Besides - the rooms we rent are on the opposite side of the aquarium in our dorm, quite a ways away from the rooms the dorm members reside in for that particular purpose. We also have security within our dorm and I’m usually the one to deal with matters of… problematic nature.”

“Perhaps, however-”

“Consider it one less problem on your plate as well. If (Y/N) is brought to my dorm, I will take full responsibility for her - and I might be able to find a way to get her home in the process as well.”

“You what?” your eyes widen with hope, your hand reaching out and clasping the edge of his robe.

“I have an endless network of resources at my disposal, my dear - I can likely find you a quicker way to get home than you can with anyone else here,” Azul answered confidently, thinking, ‘Though you won’t know that since I found you. I’ve searched high and low for you, I’ll be damned if I let you slip from my grasp so easily.’

“Very well then,” Headmage Crowley let out a sigh, “(Y/N), are you agreeable with staying with the Octavinelle dorm and working at the Mostro Lounge until Master Ashengrotto can find a way to return you to your world?”

“Of course! Thank you so much, Mr. Ashengrotto!” you beamed with joy.

“Azul,” the dorm head answered with a nod, “please, call me Azul.”

“Azul, then.”

The human-cecaelian smiled sweetly at his soulmate and offered an arm out, his hearts practically bursting with joy when you slipped your own arm through his - the two of you now link together via soul and side by side.

***

Azul brought you to the Octavinelle’s renting dorm after ordering Jade and Floyd to start the welcoming party for the first years as well as to get them ready for tomorrow night.

“Do what you need to do,” Azul smiled at the two.

“Of course.”

“You got it, boss!”

When the two of them were out of earshot, you looked up at Azul, “Thank you so much for your help back there. I wasn’t certain what was going to happen if you hadn’t stepped in.”

“Likely the headmage would have thrown you out of the college and left you to fend for yourself,” Azul smiled, “but I, on the other hand, would never allow something so pitifully disgusting happen to you.”

You giggled, the sound pulling on Azul’s heartstrings.

‘She’s here, she’s real,’ his thoughts quickened as the two continued their leisurely pace, ‘I knew that she was real, that she and I would meet. It will only be a matter of time now - once she confesses her feelings for me, I will make her mine.’

The two stopped outside one of the doors, Azul pulled out a key ring and unlocked it before ushering his soulmate inside.

“You can stay here,” Azul answered, peering around and wishing that it was cleaner than it was now, “There’s spare blankets in the closet in case you get cold during the night and fresh towels in the bathroom. I’ll have Jade or Floyd bring you a spare pair of clothing since you’ve brought nothing with you.”

“Oh, you don’t have to…”

“I insist,” Azul answered, “What sort of host would I be if I didn’t provide the best service?”

You giggled again, your smile even wider, “Well, thank you again Azul.”

Each time you spoke his name, Azul’s heart gave a leap of joy.

He coughed, blushing slightly, “W-Well then, should you need anything during your time here, just let me know.”

“Of course, but - may I ask a question?”

“You already have,” Azul snickered at you.

Your pout was adorable that Azul burst into laughter before you asked, “Why were you willing to help me? A complete stranger?”

“I have a gift for sensing someone in need,” Azul answered, his grin spreading wider over his features, “I have helped many poor unfortunate souls in my short lifetime and intend on continuing to offer my services in exchange for something.”

“What sort of payment?”

“Depends - but it isn’t something you should worry about. I like to keep a few things in my personal life private - regardless of my relationships with other people.”

“Of course, I can respect that.”

“Thank you, I appreciate it,” Azul reached out, pushing the hood down and stroking your soft hair gently, “Why don’t you rest now? I have to attend the welcome party for the new students and make sure no one is destroying anything in my absence. I will have Jade or Floyd bring you something to eat in a little bit along with that fresh change of clothes. Tomorrow, we’ll discuss our contract.”

“Contract?”

“I always have my employees sign a business contract before they begin work - regardless how long they work in the lounge for,” Azul answered, “It helps to have things in writing when dealing with problems later down the road.”

With a nod, you grinned, “Thank you again, Azul-san.”

The cecaelia couldn’t help himself as he leaned forward, pressing a kiss to your forehead before pulling away and leaving his other half to stare at him in shock and surprise.

When the door clicked behind him, Azul pulled the keyring out and locked the door to prevent anyone from entering and you from leaving. His eyes gleamed menacingly in the low light as a black gloved hand stroked the doorframe gently.

‘At last… you’re here with me, my precious pearl. Forgive me, but now that I have seen you… I can never let you go…’

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dem-obscure-imagines · 9 months

Text

The Way it Was Before

Bernard the Elf x Reader

Fandom: The Santa Clause

Summary: Something is VERY wrong this Christmas, and it seems you’re the only person in the world who remembers the way things were before. Well, almost the only person. It’s up to you and the Head Elf to save the day before Jack’s wish becomes irreversible.

Note: I was literally possessed by the spirit of Christmas to write this. I still don’t understand how I whipped this up so fast. Also I have a few ideas kicking around for a sequel, so let me know if that’s something you’re interested in! Additionally, I will be uploading this to Ao3, so if you see it on there too, don't worry hahaha

Warnings: Language, a lil violence as a treat (nothing major just literally a few punches lol), a lil angst but a very happy ending <3

Word Count: 14k

Reader is: Female, 23

Well, that was it, then. It was over. You couldn’t help but feel a little torn up about it. You just weren’t cut out for the job, or maybe you didn’t have the magic for it. Whatever the reason, Mother Nature had made it clear. You were not the Spring Enchantress, and this would be your last foray into the Magical Realm for a very long time, if you ever set foot in it again.

Mother Nature had to visit Santa at the North Pole. You weren’t sure why, she didn’t tell you what she was there to pick up, but she did give you some time on your own to explore the Workshop for the last time.

Wanting to get away from the wandering eyes, you found a secluded nook and sat down, resting your head in your hands. You loved the Pole. It was so intricate and beautiful and whimsical and you would never see it again. You’d never step foot in Mother Nature’s Grotto or the Summer Isles, or even Halloweentown.

It hit you all at once and the tears came flowing before you could stop them. You just hoped none of the elves were around to find you. You didn’t want to worry them when they were already so busy.

“(Y/N), right?” a voice asked, drawing your attention to the doorway where he was standing. Bernard, the Head Elf. Your eyes wandered over his shoulder to the sign on the door. Of course, your crying spot had to be directly outside his office. Figured.

“Right. Yeah. Sorry.” You wiped at the tears, trying to compose yourself. You motioned to the door. “I didn’t realize…”

He shook his head. “That’s alright. Is something wrong?”

“I didn’t mean to bother you. I’m sorry, I can—”

“No, you’re no bother at all. Come on in. My couch is a lot comfier than that bench there.” He motioned you forward and you hesitated, but got up and walked into his office, a large, cozy room with forest green walls, hardwood floors, a small fireplace, a cozy couch, and a desk facing it. There was a shelf of snow globes on one wall, a shelf of old leather books on another.

Bernard motioned to the couch and you took a seat while he perched himself on the edge of his desk. He plucked a tissue out of the box and handed it to you, empathy etched in his brown eyes.

“What’s going on?”

“It um…Mother Nature…” You spoke slowly, composing your words. “She said I’m not the Spring Enchantress like she thought. So um…I’m getting my memory wiped and heading back to the Mortal Realm. Tomorrow, I think.”

“Wiped? Like entirely?” Bernard said, horror in his voice.

“I mean, I’ll still know who I was before I started training under her, but…all of the magic stuff, all of this…” You shook your head. “I knew it was all too good to be true.”

“I am so sorry this is happening to you.” He shook his head. “It’s not fair.”

“Yeah…” You nodded, wiping your tears on the tissue he’d given you. “I’m just glad she brought me here one last time. It’s so beautiful here.”

Bernard smiled softly. He reached into his satchel and pulled out a small snow globe, waving a hand over it before handing it to you. “Even if you won’t remember this place…I’d like you to take a piece of it with you.”

You took a shaking breath, more tears flowing at his words, at the sincerity on his face, at the beautiful snow globe he’d given you. You stood to accept it and found yourself hugging him instead, seeking comfort from the most powerful elf in the Pole. His arms wrapped tight around you, comforting you at your most vulnerable.

“Thank you. So much. Even if I don’t remember it, I…I think I’ll still know. That it’s real. That all of this is.”

“Believing is Seeing.” Bernard said, meeting your eyes. “Someday, you’ll remember that.”

You hoped he was right…

THREE YEARS LATER

Leaving your Irish Folklore class, you were absolutely buzzing with ideas. It had been an amazing lesson. Your professor was very knowledgeable on all sorts of legends and fantasy creatures, where they’d come from, how stories about them had started. You, as a writer, were planning on using this knowledge to write an epic fantasy romance. You weren’t sure what exactly it would be about; you were still waiting for it to click, but you were sure it would eventually.

You walked to your favorite coffee shop, a little ways from your apartment, and grabbed a hot cocoa with extra whipped cream, your favorite around this time of year, sitting down with your work at your favorite table in the corner of the shop.

You took out your notebooks, comparing the notes you’d taken in class to the ones you had left over from…before. The inklings, few though they were, that had lingered in your mind, even after Mother Nature, yes, that Mother Nature, had supposedly wiped them all from existence. Granted, there wasn’t very much left from your time with her, just a few things: the Northern Lights dancing across the sky as you…as you…no, see, there it was. Nothing.

That was all that was left, pieces. And the snow globe on your shelf that you knew was more than just a snow globe, but you couldn’t remember why. Or who’d given it to you.

Sometimes you felt crazy, pushing against the walls of your memory, begging it for just one more detail, but that was how it had been for the last three years. You knew you weren’t making it up, that it was more than just fantasy, but you couldn’t tell anyone. Not even your therapist. The looks wouldn’t be worth it.

So you kept these things to yourself, jotting them down to get them out of your head. Or, rather, keeping them safe in case someday Mother Nature came to finish what she started, wiping it all away for good.

You worked on an outline for a short story for your creative writing class, but you didn’t feel all that confident in it. You sipped your cocoa some more, which had cooled to perfection, and opened an article you were supposed to read for your Folklore class. Something about elves. Festive, you thought with a chuckle. It was indeed the season for that, especially since that had been your last class before Christmas. A perfect send-off for the end of the semester.

Once you’d gotten a decent amount of work done, you packed up your stuff and headed back to your apartment, setting your bag in your room. You checked a few things off of your To Do List.

Gleaming on the shelf, your snow globe caught your eye. “Believing is Seeing.” You whispered to yourself, eyebrows knitting together when you did. It sounded familiar, but…you weren’t sure why. Or what it meant.

Down in the living room, your roommates were watching Christmas movies. In a few days, they’d both be headed home for the holidays and you’d be left on your own for a few weeks. You didn’t mind all that much. You did well on your own, in the quiet. You were kind of sad about spending the holidays alone, though.

Maybe you could find a community event to attend. A holiday party or something. Maybe your college would be doing something for the students who were staying. You hoped they’d let you attend even though you were a grad student.

On the TV, a cheesy Hallmark movie played out, the city girl deciding the small town she’d stumbled into was actually the perfect place for her and the handsome lumberjack that worked at the Christmas Tree Farm at the edge of town was actually her soulmate. You chuckled. You didn’t believe in soulmates. Not like that, at least.

“Hey, we’re going to a party tonight. Down at the Kappa House. You want to come?” Your roommate, Cindy, asked.

“Oh! Thank you. I’m alright, though. I’ll order some takeout or something.”

“Alright.” Megan, your other roommate, nodded. “How was your class?”

“Good! Yeah, I’ve just gotta finish this essay and then I’ll be good for the semester.”

“That’s good.” She grinned, sitting cross-legged on the couch.

You sat with the two of them until they got ready to leave, dressed in short red dresses, fishnets, and Santa hats. “Call me if you need a DD.”

“Oh we will.” They giggled, stumbling out the door, each armed with a bottle of cheap wine, leaving you on your own in the apartment. You did as you’d said and ordered some takeout, cranking out the rest of your paper and turning on some Christmas movies. Elf, Home Alone, all of the classics were on.

You felt something in the back of your mind, a little tingle. You froze, staring at the screen. You expected another little piece, a sliver, anything, but the feeling faded as quickly as it came. You sighed, setting your container of Lo Mein on the coffee table. Suddenly, you were tired. Maybe some sleep would help. So, after putting your things away and cleaning up after yourself, you changed into your pajamas and headed to bed.

You stared at the ceiling for a while, trying desperately to jog your memory for the little inkling that was about to emerge earlier, but to no avail. You shook your head and turned onto your side.

Believing is Seeing…

***

The next morning, you felt groggy and decidedly weird. You jotted down the dreams you remembered in your journal and went downstairs to get some breakfast to appease your growling stomach. You poured yourself a bowl of cereal with milk and plopped down in front of the TV, all but dropping it in your lap when you saw what was on the screen.

“Come on up to the North Pole, folks! Christmas Wonderland right at your fingertips! This year, we’re opening our Winter Wonderland Water Park, Hotel, and Resort! Pet the reindeer! Take a photo with an elf! And don’t forget to meet Santa!”

“What the Fuck.”

“Oh! See! I told you! We should go! They have a two for one on the Mistletoe Cruise!” Cindy grinned, hopping over the back of the couch. “Rewind it!”

You did as she said, pausing when the prices were on the screen. It just so happened to be when this so-called Santa was also on screen. Taking one look at him, you could tell something was wrong. His height, his voice, but most of all, his hair, which was frosted and spiked up. He may have been wearing the suit, but that was no Santa.

Chills ran up your arm at the sight of him. No, that was no Santa. That was Jack Frost.

It was coming back to you a little now.

“What…the North Pole…?” You murmured, confused.

“Obviously. What, did your parents never take you as a kid?” Megan asked. “We went all the time when I was growing up.”

“I can’t say they did, no…” You shook your head. No, this was bad. Something was very wrong here. Your stomach sank, veins on fire and chills unending.

You got changed at the speed of light and headed out to town, stopping in the book store next to your favorite coffee shop, where on the front rack was this new Santa’s memoir. It was titled, “Becoming Santa” and you doubted anything in it was anywhere near the truth.

You scooped up a copy of it as well as a book on the history of the Pole. There had to be something in there, some hint, some…someone you could contact. You checked out at the counter and headed next door to the coffee shop, spreading out your books and notes. You grabbed a cocoa with extra whipped cream and a shot of espresso. You knew you’d need the caffeine for whatever lied ahead.

You combed the books extensively, rolling your eyes every paragraph as you waded through Jack’s stuffy memoir. It was…impossible. You couldn’t believe this had all happened overnight. Unless there was magic involved. You cracked open the history of the Pole book, which had pictures, thankfully. You were able to look through and see if there was anyone you recognized. The longer you stared at the pictures, the more it confirmed your suspicions. You had been to the Pole before, but not in the capacity your roommates were discussing. It hadn’t been a theme park, a tacky tourist destination loaded to the brim with money-grabs. No, you had been there when it was a gorgeous, beautiful workshop, full of joy and love and…for lack of better word, Christmas cheer.

A single tear slipped down your cheek and you sat back in your chair, taking it all in. You remembered. Most of it, anyway. There were still bits and pieces that wouldn’t click into place just yet.

“This seat taken?” Someone asked.

You looked up, staring for a long moment as his features came into focus, his kind brown eyes, dark curls, a pointed ear sticking out from under his hat. He was the exact same as the last day you’d seen him, right down to the red tunic embroidered in golden symbols, the tassel necklace around his neck.

You gasped softly. “Bernard?”

Click.

His face split into a grin and a wave of relief swept over him as he all but collapsed into the seat across from you. “Thank the stars. I didn’t think you’d remember me.”

“How could I forget?” You asked, mostly to yourself. You had forgotten him. Well, until now. But it was all coming together. Something about seeing him made everything else, all those loose, scattered pieces, finally come together.

“So far, you’re the only one who remembers.”

“Remembers you?”

“No, remembers…the way things were yesterday.” He lowered his voice and you nodded, eyes wide.

“Okay cool, I’m not crazy. Always nice to know.” You sighed, closing the book and sliding it over to him. “I’ve been looking for…I don’t even know what, to be honest, but I knew it wasn’t right.”

“That’s…yeah.” He nodded, flipping through the book before closing it again.

“So what’s going on?”

“No idea. I was on my way out of the Pole when it hit, which is probably why I was spared. All of the elves…” He shook his head, arms crossed. “I don’t have any magic. I didn’t know where else to go.”

“Why me?” You asked softly, voice breaking at the edges. “How did you find me?”

“I’ve been keeping an eye on you since everything happened. I’m really sorry. What happened to you isn’t fair and I understand if you want to stay out of it, but I need your help. You’re the only person I have left.”

“I was on your team the second you sat down.” You told him, earning a tired smile. “So I did find…something. Um…Santa. Our Santa, I mean. When did he…?”

“He put on the coat in 1994.” Bernard replied with certainty.

“Okay that’s not good.” You opened Jack’s memoir to his origin story, in which he claimed to have become aware of his Santa Powers in the same year on the same night. “That never happened. Jack…he must have gone back in time and overwritten things.”

“How would he even have done something like that?” Bernard asked, taking the book from you and reading through the section you’d underlined.

“Father Time,” you mumbled. “Maybe he did something to Father Time.”

“Maybe.” Bernard nodded. “He’s in London. Big Ben. We can head there. But first, we need to find our Santa and pray that he remembers too. If not, our goose may already be cooked.”

***

Bernard ordered a drink for himself and the two of you left the shop, sticking a nice tip in the jar on the way out. You led Bernard to your apartment. Your roommates were still there, buzzing about their impending trip to the North Pole.

“I thought you guys were going home to see your families for the holidays.” You said, prying to see just how much they had changed in this new reality.

“Oh right, right, we were, but this deal is just too good to pass up, you know? My parents will understand. We’ll just celebrate…over spring break or something.”

“Yeah, yeah same. It’ll be fine, I’ll just mail them their presents.” Megan agreed, going right back to vacation planning with Cindy.

You gave Bernard a look that he returned before the two of you went up to your room. You pulled open your laptop and sat on the floor, Bernard looking around your room, eyes careful, admiring every detail until he found it, the snow globe he’d given you still sitting on the shelf.

He smiled softly, picking it up and giving it a shake before setting it back. “You still have it.”

“Of course I do. I’ve had it in all of my apartments. I don’t move anywhere without it.” You smiled and paused, thinking. “Did you…use your magic on it when you gave it to me? Maybe that’s what’s bringing my memory back.”

“No, I only used my magic to inscribe the plaque.” He explained, pointing to where the words were inscribed in curling cursive words, Believing is Seeing. “Something else is protecting your memory, even now.”

“Mother Nature?” You wondered quietly. Then again, if she wanted to protect your memories, why would she have wiped them in the first place? It didn’t make sense, so instead, you turned your attention to Google. “Alright, what’s Santa’s government name? As long as Jack didn’t kill him, we should be able to find him.”

“Scott. Scott Calvin.” Bernard replied, sitting on the carpet beside you, leg brushing against yours. “When we found him, he was living in Illinois. He might still be close to there now.”

“Scott Calvin…” You said quietly, typing his name in the search bar along with Illinois to attempt to narrow down the search results. It was common name, but hopefully not too common. You scrolled through hits from Facebook, showing Bernard the profile pictures to see if there was one he recognized. After all, you never saw Santa when he was still human, only as the Big Man himself.

“There! There, that’s him!” Bernard pointed to one of the Scotts. You clicked on his profile and started scrolling.

Marriage Status: Divorced

Employment: Frost Toys, Illinois

“Frost Toys.” You read, sounding deflated. “Even he’s working for Frost.”

“Can you get a phone number? His business phone maybe?”

“Can do.” You hopped onto his LinkedIn and found his contact, punching in the number and handing your phone to Bernard.

He waited while it rang, shaking his head when it booted him to voicemail. There was a long beep and Bernard said, exasperated, “Hey Scott, this is Bernard. If you remember me, remember anything, please call back. We’re going to fix all of this.”

He hung up and handed the phone back to you, looking disappointed.

“It’s okay. It’s gonna be fine.”

“Having trouble believing that at the moment.” He exhaled, frustrated. “This is bad.”

“On a scale of zero to plastic Santa…?”

He chuckled, mood lightening the tiniest bit. “You heard about that?”

“It was the talk of the meeting that month.” You laughed, remembering. Your smile faded when you remembered who else had been at that meeting. Maybe that was where Jack had gotten his messed up little idea of world domination.

“I’d take three of that guy before this.” Bernard shook his head. “What now?”

You thought before shrugging. “I guess we’re going to Illinois.”

“You’re serious? You’re coming with me to get Scott?”

“Or what, let you do this on your own? No way. Help me get some stuff together. I just put gas in my car so we should be good for a while.”

He smiled, getting to his feet and pulling you up after him. “Alright, what do you need?”

As quickly as you could, you gathered up the absolute basics: a pair of pajamas, an extra set of clothes, your toothbrush and toothpaste, your hairbrush, extra fuzzy socks, and a phone charger. Once the two of you were done, you stopped in the kitchen to load up on snacks and drinks for the long car ride, garnering looks from your roommates.

“Hey, who’s the guy?” Cindy asked, having missed him on his way in, apparently.

“I’m Bernard, a friend of (Y/N)’s. We have, uh, History together. History class, that is.” He offered his hand, but neither of them shook it, still too wrapped up in their phones and the cruise tickets they were busy booking.

“Ohhhh, right, I think I remember her mentioning you.” Megan nodded, agreeing. “You two going somewhere?”

“Illinois.”

“Why?” Cindy asked. “What’s in Illinois?”

“We’re going to see The Bean. I’ve heard it’s lovely this time of year.” You shrugged. “Probably cheaper than a North Pole trip, too.”

“The Bean…” Bernard chuckled, shaking his head as he shoved a box of Rice Krispy Treats in the snack bag along with some Hershey Kisses and a bag of Twizzlers.

“Okay, Mr. Sweet Tooth, pack some salty stuff for me,” you muttered, elbowing him.

“Heh, right. Sorry.” He smiled sheepishly, packing a few saltier options that would appeal to your human taste buds.

“We probably won’t be back by the time you two leave, so…lock up good, alright?” You asked, meeting each of their eyes.

You loved your roommates. You knew they weren’t usually like this, dropping literally everything for a vacation. It was something about this timeline. Christmas wasn’t…happy like it was supposed to be. It was a bitter, greedy thing that was pushing these girls, who loved their families very much, away from their loved ones during the holidays. It made you sick.

“You alright?” Bernard asked, noticing the moment you began to space out. The last thing he needed was to lose you, too.

“I’m good, yeah. Let’s go.”

***

Hauling your little suitcase and your bag full of snacks, the two of you walked out of the apartment to where you’d parked your car. Thankfully, it was still there, one of the things the new timeline seemed to have no effect on. You slid your suitcase onto the back seat and Bernard set the bag of snacks on the floor in front of the passenger seat.

You settled into the driver’s seat, turning on the car and adjusting the temperature and the mirrors. Bernard fiddled with the radio, looking for Christmas tunes and finding them, catching the end of White Christmas just in time for an announcement from the radio host.

“We’re playing your favorite Christmas Hits all day, 24/7. That was White Christmas by Michael Bublé, up next, Santa’s new hit single, Come Meet Santa.”

“You’re kidding me.” You groaned as an insufferable song started blaring from the speakers, Jack singing about his fancy new resort at the Pole.

“He’s got the reindeer in a petting zoo?” Bernard asked, disheartened as he listened to the lyrics.

“Oh my god…” You shook your head. “We’ve gotta find Scott.”

You connected your own Christmas playlist to the aux cord, doing away with Jack’s twisted idea of Christmas and set up navigation to the Frost Toys office building in Chicago. You figured even if it wasn’t exact, it would get you close enough to Scott by the time he called you back. Well, you hoped he would. Hope was kind of all the two of you had.

You drove out the front gates of your college campus and started heading towards the highway. “Let me know if you need a bathroom break or anything.”

“Alright.” Bernard nodded, still looking tense.

“Did you…try to call the Pole? I don’t know if there’s a special number for that or…?”

“I did. Customer Service put me on hold.”

You blinked. “Customer Service?”

“Yeah we didn’t have that department yesterday.” Bernard crossed his arms and leaned back against the seat, eyes squeezed shut in what you were sure was the immense stress of the situation. “Sounds like Curtis is in charge up there now, though. It’s like I never existed.”

“Oh.” You said, turning on your blinker to get in the faster lane. “I’m really sorry, Bernard.”

“Yeah, it’s…we’re gonna fix it.” He insisted, repeating your sentiment from earlier. “We have to.”

“We will.” You assured him.

He chuckled darkly. “This whole time, all I’ve been able to think about is how…this…what I’m going through now is what you’ve been going through for the past three years.”

“If it makes you feel better, I didn’t really know what I was missing out on until today.”

“How do you mean?”

“Something about you showing up jogged my memory. Before that, it was just little tiny bits and pieces. If it weren’t for your snow globe, I definitely would have thought I was losing my mind. I remembered Mother Nature and the…role she played in this, I guess, but I could not have told you what she looks like. All I’ve had is the idea of her.”

“And now?”

“Now I remember. Pretty much everything, I think. Santa, the Pole, you, all of it.”

“Well that’s good for us.” Bernard chuckled.

“And when it’s over, I’m sure she’ll just…wipe me all over again.”

“I will see to it myself that that does not happen.” He shook his head. “I can’t believe she ever did that to you to begin with. Lead you on like that just to drop you like nothing happened.”

“Yeah.” You shrugged, letting out a sigh. “I don’t know, I just…like I said to you that day in your office—I think, it’s still a little fuzzy—I always knew it was a little too good to be true. I always felt like I just…I was the puzzle piece that didn’t fit. That there was this big, beautiful, magical world out there, but I wasn’t meant to…be part of it, I guess.”

“I don’t think that’s true.” Bernard shook his head. “I’m 1600 years old and I’ve never met someone who doesn’t have a place. And having met you, I can guarantee you do belong. If Mother Nature can’t see that, then that’s her loss.”

You smiled softly. “Thanks.”

“You know, we can always use a hand in the ornament department.”

“I’d work anywhere you stuck me just to be able to hang out at the Pole again.”

“See, that’s the spirit.” He laughed.

The two of you drove for a handful of hours and you did decide to stop for gas, just to be safe. That, and you were really craving a gas station slushee. So, you filled the tank while Bernard grabbed the two of you some slushees for the rest of the drive down.

While he was standing there, there was a weird, floaty feeling about him. For a moment, his hands began to fade, sparkles taking their place, but as soon as you walked through the doors, the bell jingling above your head, the feeling went away and he exhaled a sigh of relief, feeling solid again.

“You alright?” You asked, voice hushed.

He squeezed his eyes shut, nodding before daring to meet your gaze. Never in his millennia and a half had he ever felt so weak.

“Bernard?”

“I’m fine!” He insisted, raising his voice slightly, but softening when he met your eyes again. “Sorry, I’m…fine.”

“Hang in there.” You whispered, standing closer to him. “I can’t lose you, too.”

He nodded, but didn’t say anything. The two of you went back out to the car, sipping your slushees and turning the Christmas music back on when it was interrupted suddenly by an incoming call.

You looked at Bernard and he reached over, putting the call on speaker. “Hello?”

“Bernard? Is that you?” Santa’s voice came out of the speakers and you sighed in relief.

“Santa? Oh thank the stars.” Bernard closed his eyes, a long breath working out of his lungs.

“What the hell is going on? Where are you?”

“We’re about an hour from Frost Toys. We did some research and found this, uh, new job of yours.”

“Don’t get me started.” He chuckled. “I’ll send my apartment address. Does this number work? Whose phone is this, I didn’t know you had a cell phone.”

“I don’t. It’s a long story, but I’m with a friend and we’re on the way.”

“Good. Well then, I’ll see you two soon. The sooner the better.” Scott sounded very relieved. He hung up and texted over your new destination, which was just a little ways further than the building you were already heading towards.

With new fervor, you pulled out of the gas station and got back on the highway, reaching Scott’s apartment with speeds even Bernard was impressed by. You pulled into the parking garage, got your little orange slip to put on the dash, and took the elevator into the building. Scott buzzed you upstairs and you met him outside the door of the snazzy, modern downtown apartment. At the very least, this timeline had given him a cushy job. He ushered the two of you inside.

“Bernard.” Scott greeted, hugging his Head Elf briefly before the two turned back to you. “I’ve never been so relieved to see you.”

“Likewise.” Bernard sighed.

“And you are…?”

“(Y/N). (Y/N) (L/N).” You introduced, offering your hand. “I don’t expect you to—”

“Oh! You were Mother Nature’s apprentice for a bit, weren’t you?” He asked, remembering.

“Yeah. That was me.” You nodded, deciding to spare him the gritty details. “I’m here to help save Christmas.”

“That might be easier said than done…”

“(Y/N) thinks Jack might have used time travel to do this. We were planning on going to see Father Time to see if any of this is something he can fix, or…or if Jack did something to him and that’s how he accomplished all of this.”

“It wasn’t Father Time.” Scott shook his head. “Jack tricked me with a wishing snow globe. Made me wish I had never been Santa and…took the coat for himself.”

“Oh.” Bernard murmured, nodding. “The Escape Clause. Well that would do it, then.”

“There’s gotta be some way to undo this.” Scott said. “It can’t just be over. This can’t be it. Carol…she doesn’t even know who I am.”

“Mrs. Claus?” You asked softly and he nodded solemnly.

You’d met her on a few occasions and she had always been so nice to you, relieved to have another human-ish woman at the Pole, as she said, which always earned a laugh from you. And now, she was a school principal again at a public school who didn’t believe in Christmas anymore. Even Mrs. Claus wasn’t safe from Jack’s trickery.

“Okay, so…we go to the Pole, then. Get…plane tickets, I guess. My roommates were planning their vacation there when we left, so if they can do it, I’m sure we can.”

“Definitely.” Scott nodded, searching for tickets on his phone.

“We go there, find that snow globe, and undo all of this, set it right, the way it’s supposed to be.” You said, determined.

“You think it’ll work?” Scott asked Bernard and he thought over it for a long time before nodding.

“It has to.”

***

Scott booked three tickets for the earliest flight in the morning, at five. You changed into pajamas so you could attempt to get some sleep, and Bernard put something on the TV. You emerged from Scott’s guest bedroom, face wiped clean of makeup, hair freshly brushed, and cute little penguins on your pajama pants. Bernard grinned.

“What?”

“Penguins?”

“I thought they were cute.” You defended, shrugging as you plopped down on the couch next to him.

“I never said they weren’t.” He shrugged, kicking his feet up on the coffee table.

“Hey, pizza sound good, you two?” Scott called from the kitchen.

“Sounds perfect.” You replied.

“Yeah, that’s fine.” Bernard agreed, flipping channels until he found what he was looking for. Ah yes, the Christmas movies. Specifically, the stop-motion Rankin/Bass movies you’d watched during your childhood. Absolute classics.

You gasped, childlike wonder filling your features. “Oh, I love this one.”

“You like these movies?”

“I’ve seen just about all of them, I think. We always used to watch them when I was a kid. These were my childhood. I like them a lot more than the Hallmark movies my roommates are always watching.”

“Rightfully so.” Bernard agreed. “These guys just…got it.”

“Better than anyone else.” You sat criss-cross on the couch. “Riddle me this, Mr. Head Elf, is Rudolph real?”

“Sorry to burst your bubble, (Y/N), but no, he is not.”

“No! What? You’re lying!” You covered your face with your hands. “My life is a lie.”

“I wouldn’t lie about something like that.” He laughed. “Rudolph is not one of our reindeer. The rest all are, though. Dasher and Dancer and Prancer and Vixen.”

“Comet and Cupid and Donner and Blitzen?” You asked.

Bernard smiled, proud. “Precisely.”

“Hey,” Scott held the phone away from his face for a second, covering the microphone with his hand, “pepperoni good? Thin crust?”

“Sounds good to me, Santa.” Bernard gave a thumbs-up. He could not, for the life of him, remember the last time he’d even had pizza.

“Yeah, I love thin crust.” You agreed.

“Great.” He nodded and walked back towards the kitchen again, finalizing the pizza order.

The commercial break hit with, of course, an ad for the North Pole Waterpark and Resort. There were clips of miserable elves playing games in the arcade, forced to work as lifeguards in the waterpark, facilitating the reindeer petting zoo.

You frowned, that familiar feeling of dread settling into your stomach again. This was awful.

“That’s Betty, there, in the green. Third in command. Second, now, I guess. She looks…”

“Miserable.” You finished.

“Yeah.” Bernard nodded. He let out a frustrated shout. “I can’t believe this is happening! Look at them! Look at what he’s done to the Pole!”

Bernard took a shaking breath and slumped back against the couch, his lack of magic hitting him once again and that floaty, sparkly feeling returning.

“Bernard?” You asked, voice rising in concern.

“It’s my magic. The magic of the Pole, of Christmas, everything. Elves are…well, we’re basically made of magic, so if we don’t fix this, and soon…” He shook his head, words trailing off into hopelessness.

“Take some of mine.” You said, quiet, but certain.

He stared at you for a long moment. “What?”

“Take some of my magic.” You told him, more confident this time.

“You still have magic?” He asked, eyebrows furrowing.

“And no idea how to use it, but you do. You need it more than I do right now.”

“O-okay.” He nodded, sitting up a little straighter.

You unfurled your legs, turning to face him. You turned his hands so they were in a receiving position and placed your palms on his, taking a deep breath and closing your eyes to focus yourself, tuning into the fragments of magic still inside of you and then pushing them towards him, through his hands, up his arms, into his chest.

He flinched a little at the feeling, the sharp, cold tingle, but his eyes widened when he saw it, your magic, flowing into him. It was iridescent, teal and purple and pink and blue, waves ebbing and flowing, its gentle glow lighting up your features in the dim room, your hair blowing around softly in the gentle breeze it created.

It looked like the Northern Lights.

He pulled away after a few long moments, stopping the flow. You opened your eyes to look at him.

“Do you feel better?” You asked, concern etched deep in your gaze, pulling at his heart strings in a way he hadn’t felt in centuries.

“A lot better. Thank you,” he said. “But save some for yourself. That might be what’s protecting your memories.”

“Right.” You nodded, thinking. “That makes sense.”

It was quiet, the murmur of the TV the only sound other than Scott in the kitchen, getting dishes out in anticipation of the pizzas arriving, their ceramic clattering against the fancy marble counters you’d spotted on your way in.

You looked at Bernard, really looked at him for the first time. You’d be lying if you said you hadn’t been crushing on him a little bit, back when you were acquaintances, when he was the knowledgeable, responsible, somewhat stern Head Elf with a heart of gold and you were Mother Nature’s apprentice, vying for a destiny you would not receive.

You remembered the way your heart would lurch when he peeked into the meetings you sat in on, with the rest of the Legendary Figures, and occasionally, the Guardians of the Seasons, if their presence was necessary.

One of the other elves, you were pretty sure her name was Abby, had given you a tour the first time you were there, she’d introduced you to him, and she’d also called to attention the way your cheeks went rosy the moment you walked away from him.

You wondered if he thought of you, if he had those memories too, tucked away someplace special, or if you were just another passerby in his long, long life. Sometimes you almost forgot he was hiding a thousand years behind that youthful face.

Sitting there, you weren’t sure if it was him who started leaning in or you, but it stopped as soon as Scott called for you from the other room, like a scratched record in the middle of a sweet, slow Christmas ballad, pulling you both back down to reality.

“Pizza.” You chuckled, standing up from the couch. Maybe it was the lighting, but you swore Bernard’s cheeks were rosier than they had been before.

“Right. Pizza.”

The two of you walked out to the kitchen together and sat on the barstools pulled up to the counter, grabbing slices of the thin-crust pepperoni.

“So, I booked the North Pole tickets. I also booked us tickets from there to London…Just in case.”

“Gee, thanks for the vote of confidence.” Bernard chuckled.

“Hey, you look better.” Scott noted.

“I’m feeling a lot better, too.” Bernard motioned to you. “(Y/N) here still has a few tricks up her sleeve.”

“Good. We’re gonna need all the magic we can get.”

***

You didn’t get very much sleep before your alarm went off. It had been about what you were expecting. You never slept well when you were stressed.

You did, however, have a dream.

You were sitting in a meeting with Mother Nature and the Guardians, the two of them that were left after the Spring Enchantress’ retirement. Of course, you were training up to fill the position, so it wouldn’t remain empty for long.

Mother Nature led the meeting, held in the giant tree at the center of her Grotto, glancing at her watch every few minutes until finally, he showed up. Jack Frost. Even then, chills ran up your spine, though, at the time, you were convinced it was a side effect of his existence in general.

“Sorry I’m late, ladies. Had quite the hold up in Toronto.” He shrugged, sliding into the fifth seat at the round table, a snowflake embedded in the crystalline mosaic on the table’s surface. “What are we talking about?”

“You, actually.” Mother Nature stated, sitting up straighter. “We were wondering how the search for the Aurora was going, since you’ve elected to take on the task yourself.”

“Ah, yes, well, it’s certainly not easy. Winter Guardians don’t just fall from the sky, you know. But I’ve searched all of the places she used to pop up. Hence my overlay in Canada.” Jack shrugged. “And besides, it’s been five centuries since we’ve had one, I think we’re doing just fine without her.”

“I wouldn’t say that.” The Autumn Witch, a gorgeous young woman named Amber Sanderson, interjected, meeting him with her sharp gaze. Her long, curly orange hair was as beautiful as the autumn leaves, brown skin smooth and ageless, even after her thirty or so years on the council. She didn’t look a day over twenty-five.

“Then what would you say, Ms. Sanderson?” Jack countered, crossing his arms and leaning back in his chair. “If you have a problem with the way I’m running things, I’d prefer if you were forward about it.”

“We have been.” Evangeline Cho agreed, the Summer Sorceress. As her season had just started, she was glowing even more brilliantly than she usually did. “Every year, winter creeps further and further into autumn and spring. And it seems you haven’t done anything to stop it.”

“What, I can’t control that! I’m getting more powerful! It’s merely a side effect.”

“Which is precisely why we need someone on this council who can control their abilities. Such as an Aurora, which you were tasked with finding nearly a century ago, Frost.” Mother Nature stated, her voice cool and even. “If you’d like one of us to find her instead—”

“Oh no, no, that won’t be necessary. I promise you, by next winter, we will have an Aurora again and I’ll go back to managing snow days and frosting window panes.” He drew an X over his heart. “Cross my heart.”

“Excellent.” Mother Nature nodded. “Meeting adjourned.”

You blinked awake in time with Mother Nature’s gavel, staring at the ceiling of Scott’s guest room. That wasn’t a dream. You were certain. It was a memory. You’d have to tell the others.

***

Once your alarm went off, you got dressed and met Scott and Bernard in the entryway of the apartment. Bernard, who hadn’t changed his clothes, had one pointed ear sticking out the brim of his hat, a dead giveaway if there ever was one. You rummaged through your carry on and produced a knitted hat you’d made a few years back, motioning to his ear.

“Oh. Right. Thanks.” He nodded, swapping his usual headwear for the hat you gave him, slipping it on with ease. “Where’d you get this?”

“I made it. I knit.”

He chuckled, checking his reflection to make sure he was covered well. “Well aren’t you just full of surprises?”

“As we’re both learning.”

Scott drove the three of you to the airport and you arrived early, hoping your plane would be a little ahead of schedule, but when you found it was actually delayed an hour, it gave you time to grab drinks at the coffee shop.

“Hot cocoa, shot of espresso, extra whipped cream, please.” You ordered, Bernard just behind you.

“I’ll have the same, but make it a double shot.”

“Coming right up,” the barista nodded, setting to work.

Outside, the sun was just beginning to rise, filling the sky with orange and pink, sunlight glistening on the icicles hanging from the windows. You smiled, appreciating the quiet moment despite the dread looming overhead.

Once your drinks were ready, you joined Scott on a chair near the windows.

“So um, I had a dream last night. I think it was a memory from before.” You said, not sure how else to bring it up.

“What was it about?” Scott asked, curious.

“I was at a meeting with Mother Nature and the Guardians. Jack was there, sitting in for…the Aurora, I guess.”

“The Winter Aurora.” Bernard replied, nodding.

“What is that?” Scott asked, unfamiliar with the term.

“Well, there’s a Guardian for each season, often a woman, gifted with the powers of that specific time of year. They work with their Legendary Figures to oversee the flow of time and ensure everything is on schedule. The Spring Enchantress, the Summer Sorceress, the Autumn Witch, and the Winter Aurora.” Bernard explained. “We haven’t had an Aurora at the Pole in 500 years…”

“Well that would explain why I’ve never heard of her.” Scott nodded, thinking. “So Jack took her job?”

“Yeah, they were talking about his…powers increasing, I’m assuming because he was getting buffed by her powers in addition to his. And how winter is creeping into autumn and spring because of it.”

“That’s not good.” Bernard shook his head. “The seasons have to be balanced. Jack’s hunger for power is messing up the eco system.”

“Mother Nature said he was supposed to be looking for her, and I don’t know…maybe he just…wasn’t looking.”

“Wouldn’t surprise me.” Bernard took a long sip of his cocoa. “I’ll add that to the top of my list as soon as we get everything else back to normal.”

As soon as you finished your drinks, the plane started boarding, so you followed after Scott and onto the plane. Through the windows in the walkway, you could see the plane, giant, winter blue, and emblazoned with a giant picture of Jack Frost’s Santa impression, giving a thumbs-up.

“I’m gonna puke.” You rolled your eyes.

“Ditto.”

The three of you boarded and settled into your seats, all in a row. Scott had brought his laptop along to do some research on the flight. He figured it was better to go in with something of a plan than be blindsided by whatever you found on the other side. You had a feeling the Pole would look a lot different than last you’d seen it.

You settled into the window seat and got as comfortable as you could. For a supposedly luxury flight, the seats were surprisingly stiff. Knowing Jack, you should have expected him to cut corners, even in his power fantasy brought to life.

“How are you feeling about all of this?” Bernard asked, voice soft.

“As well as I can, I guess.” You shrugged. “I’m glad I’m not doing this alone.”

He nodded, eyes meeting yours, soft and serious. “I am, too.”

A lady in a flowery dress walked past, her perfume so strong, you caught a whiff of it from the window seat, its floral scent immediately tickling your nose. You tried your best to suppress the sneeze, but to no avail. You sneezed two times, waiting for a third, but it never came.

“Jeez.” You shook your head, reaching for the Benedryl in your bag.

“What’s that for?”

“My allergies. That lady’s perfume was pretty strong.” You chuckled.

“You have allergies?” Bernard asked, eyes narrowing. “Spring allergies.”

“…Yeah?”

“You have spring allergies and Mother Nature thought you were the new Spring Enchantress?” Bernard asked, looking skeptical. He knew Mother Nature. She was an intelligent, almost all-knowing being. He knew she wouldn’t make a mistake that obvious.

“That part never made sense to me either.” You shrugged.

“She thought you were a Spring, but…you’re obviously more of a Winter. I might be a bit biased, though.” He smirked.

Your heart raced when he said it, the realization hitting you that he was flirting. You were getting hit on by Santa’s Head Elf. That was something not everyone could say.

“I mean, I was born in December. The 21st.”

Suddenly, his flirting demeanor was gone, replaced instead by a look of realization, like you had just given him the last piece of the puzzle he’d been trying to solve since the day you left the Pole. “The Winter Solstice…”

“What was that?”

“Nothing. Let me see that, Santa.” Bernard took the laptop from Scott’s lap desk, clumsily navigating with the mousepad and punching something into the search bar. “Where was it your parents are from, (Y/N)?”

“I grew up in South Carolina. We were supposed to live in Michigan, but Dad got a job opportunity at the last minute, so we moved right after I was born.”

“Whereabouts?”

“Traverse City.”

“Hmm…” Bernard clicked through articles a bit before finding a story that made your heart race. “Is…Is this the house?”

“Yeah. Yeah, that’s…Oh my god.” You covered your mouth, reading through the article. Three months after your family had moved out, there had been a freak snow storm that took out half the houses in the neighborhood. And your house had been hit the worst, the roof over what would have been your nursery was caved in completely.

“Jack hasn’t been not looking for the Aurora. He’s been killing her every time she’s popped up.” Bernard concluded, a horrified look on his face.

“Wait. So you’re saying…” You swallowed the lump in your throat. “I’m…”

“Mother Nature appointed you Spring Enchantress to throw him off of your scent.” He said. “That has to be it. It’s the only explanation.”

“Are you sure?” You asked, fingers shaking as you wiped your sweaty palms on your pants. “I…I mean, wouldn’t I know? I’m not…special. Not like that…”

“Are you kidding me?” Bernard asked, incredulous. “You’ve gotta be kidding me. (Y/N), I’ve seen your magic. It’s the only think keeping me alive right now. It…” He reached for your hand, positioning your palm so it was facing upwards and as soon as he did, a wave of stunning Northern Lights glowed between your fingers. “Do you see that? I’ve seen Aurora magic. This is that. I can’t believe I didn’t figure it out sooner…”

“Woah.” Scott muttered, eyes falling on the scene unfolding between the two of you.

You curled your fingers, pulling the magic back into yourself and extinguishing the light. You sat with it for a moment and met Bernard’s gaze. “He tried to kill me.” You murmured, tears brimming in your eyes. “He tried to kill me for…for power? For a title?”

“We’re not going to let him get away with it.” Scott stated, fire in his gaze. “We’re not going to let him get away with any of it.”

You felt a tingling on your head and watched as white trickled from your scalp down to the ends of the piece of hair at the front of your face. Your heart raced and you touched the hair with shaking fingers.

It was real now. You were the Winter Aurora. And you had a feeling the closer you got to the Pole, the more evident that would become…

***

By the time the plane landed, the three of you were settled on a plan. Scott, Jack’s biggest priority, would cause a distraction, buying time for you two. Bernard would find the elves and try to snap them out of it. You, as the only one Jack wouldn’t fully recognize, would go find the snow globe and get it to Scott so he could undo his wish and fix everything.

Was it a perfect plan? No. But it was all you had, so it would have to be enough.

You walked off of the plane together, hoping the streak of white in your hair wouldn’t draw too much attention. Once you were inside the gates, the three of you huddled, finalizing your plan.

“You’re going to be fine on your own? Do you know how to get to the snow globe room?” Scott checked.

“I’m…being here…yeah, I’m definitely gonna be able to find it.” You nodded, still completely blown away by the powerful waves of magic, hitting you all at once for the first time. “It’s all coming back to me.”

Bernard grinned, hopeful. “Good. Good luck.”

“You too. Stay safe. I…I really don’t trust him. What he’s capable of…” You said warily.

The Head Elf shook his head, confident. “Is nothing compared to what you are.”

“Let’s save Christmas.” Scott announced.

The three of you split off. You watched as Bernard and Scott walked away together, Scott playfully nudging Bernard. About what, you couldn’t be certain, but you had a pretty good feeling it had something to do with you.

Cheeks flushed for more reason than one, you took off, following the swirling feeling around your heart, dodging past security elves with a stealth and speed you didn’t know you possessed. It was like muscle memory, suppressed very deep in the core of your being. A power you had never tapped into, but one that was quick to embrace you. You felt it in your soul, the Pole wanted you there, and it was very glad you’d returned.

Following the instructions Scott and Bernard had given you, you walked briskly down the corridors, slinking past bakery elves on their way to one of the many tourist eating spots. The workshop itself sat big and empty, barely an elf in sight. The few that were there looked tired, sad, working on tacky Santa Claus bobble heads and cheap gift shop pens. It broke your heart.

Distant voices echoed against the cavernous halls. In your mind, you heard echoes, too. Laughter and love and light, elves building toys, creating things together, working to make the kids of the world happy, no matter what it took. The workshop had been wrapped in pine trim and string lights, warm and bright.

Now, it sat dark and empty.

You wiped a tear from your cheek and continued down the hall, to where the entrance to the Hall of Snowglobes was. And at its entrance, was Betty, who stared at you for a long moment as though trying to place where she recognized you from, but quickly shook it off.

“You can’t be back here. No visitors allowed. I can escort you back to the main area, though.” She offered, smiling.

“Your name is Betty, right?”

She hesitated. “How did you…? Nevermind that, you’re still not allowed back here.”

“I have to be back here.” You told her. “It’s important. The fate of Christmas depends on it.”

“Well, the fate of Christmas depends on me doing my job, so if you’ll follow me this way.”

“I can’t do that, Betty.” You shook your head. “And I know you don’t want to either. Don’t you see that all of this is wrong? That what Jack’s done to the Pole, the capitalism, the resort, the gift shops, the reindeer in the petting zoo, this is not what Christmas is supposed to be. You know that. I know you know that.”

Betty’s features saddened and for a moment, you thought you’d won her over until she reached for a walkie talkie. “Security, we’ve got a tourist that needs to be removed from the Workshop.”

“Great.” You huffed, summoning your power to your hand, just as Bernard had shown you. But instead of sending a blast of energy at her, you let it slowly waft over, rainbow colors and dancing lights slowly enveloping her. As the magic hit her face, she blinked through it, eyes awash in the pinks and teals and purples. Yet another streak of white flowed through your hair.

She dropped to her knees and stared up at you, tears in her eyes as it all came flooding back. Her voice fell to a whisper. “You’re our Aurora.”

“I am.” You nodded, feeling confident in your title for the first time. “And I need your help. We don’t have much time.”

“Bernard, he’s gone! He—”

“He came here with me. We have to hurry. We need that snow globe.” You told her and she nodded.

You helped Betty to her feet and she ushered you into the Hall of Snowglobes, carefully plucking the little glass orb that had started all of this off of its pedestal and handing it to you. You held it with careful hands, admiring it. It was beautiful, if not absolutely dangerous.

“We’ve gotta get this to Santa.” You told her.

She nodded, following you out of the Workshop and into the bustling center of town, an absolute sensory overload if there ever was one. Tourists packed the streets, vendors were shouting over the noise, and above it all, speakers were blaring Jack’s Christmas Album, each new song worst than the one before it.

There was a massive stage, covered in fake ice and bright lights, and on said stage, was him, Jack Frost in all of his faux Santa glory, his red suit iced at the ends, hair spiked and ridiculous, like icicles. Behind him, was a row of toy soldiers and in their grasp was none other than Bernard, eyes wide in fear as Jack manifested a blast of snow in his hand.

“(Y/N)!” Scott shouted over the crowd, waving wildly to get your attention.

“Get this to Scott.” You handed the snow globe to Betty, urgency in your voice and your eyes. “I’ve gotta get Bernard.”

“On it.” She took the globe from you and weaved through the crowd expertly. You ran towards the stage as though everything was moving in slow motion.

“This guy isn’t Santa! He’s trying to ruin Christmas!” Bernard shouted, voice cracking as he did.

Jack laughed loudly, and the crowd assembled did the same. “Do you hear him? I am Santa! Without me, there would be no Christmas! What gives you the right to say any of this?”

“I’m the Head Elf!” Bernard insisted, struggling against the toy soldiers. “I’ve seen a thousand Christmases and dozens of Santas! You are nothing compared to any of them!”

“Alright, tough guy, you think I’m not Santa? How about I show you what a real Santa is capable of?” Jack threatened, ice in his voice. He raised his hand to freeze Bernard and you dove onto the stage, tackling Jack to the ground, earning a loud gasp and several concerned voices from the crowd.

“Don’t you dare touch him, you fucking narcissistic popsicle!” You shouted, getting a good punch in before retreating to Bernard’s side, kicking the toy soldier behind him and pulling apart the large ribbon bow binding his wrists. Parents covered their children’s ears, shielding them from the harsh language. Some of the crowd cleared out, retreating to a safer distance, while others pulled out their phones, desperate to go viral on YouTube.

“Come on.” You grabbed Bernard’s hand and he squeezed yours, following you off of the stage and through the crowd to where Scott stood with the snow globe. He shook it and made a wish, but nothing happened.

“What?” Scott asked, trying again. “It won’t work.”

“It’s the Escape Clause.” Bernard closed his eyes, remembering the rules. “Jack made this wish. He’s…he’s Santa now; he’s the only one who can undo this.”

“Oh my god.” A wave of dread flowed over you.

“And those, my dears, are the words I will never utter.” Jack said, dusting himself off and sauntering over to the four of you, his security not far behind, ready to apprehend all of you. “It was a nice try, though. Really valiant effort, all four of you. Scott, Bernard, Betty…and you. I can’t say I recognize you.”

“Maybe if you had half a braincell, you would.”

He scoffed, offended. “Well, I guess it doesn’t matter. They’ll figure that much out when they get you to jail, I suppose.” He shrugged and the security officers seized the four of you, taking the snow globe and giving it back to Jack. He tossed it in the air cockily a few times before chuckling. “You know, I don’t need this thing. I’m never going to wish all of this away.”

Frost tendrils crept up the glass dome and in a great burst of light, it shattered. You gasped, feeling the magic settle. This was it. This was reality now. There was no way to undo it.

“O-oh.” Bernard took a stuttered breath, faltering. He collapsed to the ground and you pushed away from security, rushing to his side and collecting him in your arms.

“Bernard?”

He shook his head. You raised a hand to give him more of your magic, but he lowered it with his own. “You have to finish this, Aurora.” He said, eyes serious, glimmering despite the pain you could tell he was in. “You’re the only one who can.”

He leaned forward, a hand brushing the hair away from your face, capturing your lips with his own, his kiss soft and tender, tasting faintly of peppermint, and then he disappeared in a burst of sparkles, his silver and gold magic drifting forward into your chest.

You gasped, tears rolling down your cheeks, arms empty and heart emptier. “No! NO! What did you do to him?” You turned, facing Jack.

“The only thing I could. Protecting Christmas from the likes of you.” He shrugged. “What was it he called you? Autumn? Is that your name? Autumn?”

“No.” You told him, rising to your feet, pure magic lifting you from the ground and setting you on your feet.

His eyes widened and he took a step back.

“I’m the Aurora.” You rose into the air, teals and purples and pinks swirling around you in a rush of power. You raised your hand, manifesting the snow globe within it, its broken shards reforming in your grasp, effortless and precise. Once it was whole again, you shook it, magic swirling within its waters, overriding the rules of the Escape Clause with rules of your own.

A voice came out of you then that you weren’t sure was your own. It came deep from your chest, echoing across the pole, accompanied by a wave of power, the same magic you’d used on Betty, but tenfold, fierce and fiery, prickling like static all down your arms as it left you.

“May Everything Return to the Way it Was Before, to the Way it was Always Meant to Be.”

And with one final rush of magic, everything went white.

***

It took a while for the picture to form in front of you, your hearing distorted, the colors slowly coming back one by one.

You were kneeling there in the center of the Workshop, which was full of elves, their work paused as they watched the scene unfolding. Scott was Santa once more, wearing his red undershirt and suspenders, looking jollier than you’d ever seen him. Carol stood beside him, looking confused.

Mother Nature was there, as was Tooth, and, of course, Jack Frost, wearing his signature blue suit as opposed to the red one he’d been wearing moments earlier.

You got to your feet, looking for Bernard in the crowd, but not finding him. Your heart lurched, your search brought to a halt by Jack’s nasally voice.

“Aw, come on now, kid, no hard feelings, right?”

Rather than replying, you wound up and punched him square in the jaw with more force than you were used to possessing.

“OOOOOOOH…” The elves murmured, wincing as Jack fell to the ground, gripping his face.

“I’m going to ask you one last time and you are going to answer me. What. Did you do to him.” You demanded, a fierce power zinging through you.

“I didn’t do anything to him! This is all a big misunderstanding! Right, Santa? Tooth? Back me up on this!” Jack groveled, shielding his face with both hands, cowering in fear.

“Can’t do that, Jack.” Scott shook his head. “You have to answer to her.”

“Where is Bernard?”

“I feel like there are more pressing issues at hand—” Jack deflected, shrinking further away from you.

“What’s that?” One of the elves asked, pointing to a column of sparkles manifesting beside you.

You turned to look, staring at it until it clicked. Reaching into yourself, you let the last pieces of Bernard’s magic flow out of your chest, where it had retreated for safekeeping. Silver and gold glitter rushed out of you, swirling from the ground up until he was standing there again, solid and real.

He all but collapsed into your arms, holding onto you tightly while he found his balance again.

“Bernard,” you sobbed, holding him close, your arms desperate to prove he was real again, that he was solid and wasn’t going anywhere.

“Hey, no need for tears, Aurora. I’m alright.” He grinned, meeting your gaze. His hand rose to your cheek and he wiped your tears away as he took you in for all that you were. “Thanks to you, I am.”

“(Y/N)?” Mother Nature asked, voice soft and warm.

“I…I can explain.” You insisted, turning to face her.

“No need, dear one. I know why you’re here. I’ve always known.” She smiled, bowing her head. “And now that you’re here, we can finish this.”

You looked to Bernard and he nodded, letting go of you to give you a gentle push forward, his eyes proud and supportive.

“Kneel.” She instructed, and you did, dropping to one knee in front of her.

The elves fell silent, desperate to witness what was unfolding for the first time in centuries.

“(Y/N) (L/N), through your bravery and selflessness, you have proven what I’ve known all along. You are the Aurora Borealis, the Winter Guardian, and Protector of the North Pole and all her Magic. For the first time in five centuries, the North Pole has an Aurora, which means…” She looked to Jack, who shook his head desperately.

“No. No way. I am not giving an ounce of my power to that…that…she punched me! Twice! Did none of you see that? She’s violent!”

“After everything you did to the Auroras before her, you’re lucky all she did was punch you!” Bernard snapped, arms crossed. “Not to mention the fact you destroyed her house in an attempt to kill her.”

Jack gasped in faux shock. “What, me? I…I would never—!”

“Jack.” Mother Nature reprimanded sharply. “You don’t have to give her the power. It was never yours to begin with.”

She outstretched a hand and, as easily as turning on a faucet, the power he’d been given, the magical, dancing light, was siphoned out of him and floated straight into you. Your feet lifted from the ground, head tilting back as your body slowly rose from the floor, power greater than you’d ever seen or felt ebbing and flowing around you, changing you into the thing you were always meant to become: the Aurora Borealis.

Your hair fully turned white, glimmering like fallen snow, a few stray streaks of pink and purple and teal scattered throughout. Your skin took on a subtle sparkle, every part of you becoming stronger, right down to your fingernails. Your clothes were replaced with a simple, glittering dress, the color of the night sky.

Gently, you touched down again, fully reborn.

The elves murmured and whispered in awe and you looked around to find a row of proud faces.

Mother Nature stepped forward and took both of your hands in hers, meeting you face to face for the first time in three years. “Dear one, I am so sorry for everything you’ve been through. I should have warned you, I should have done more to ready you, but I didn’t and…I let you feel alone.”

“I am alive because of you. Because you misled him. Everything you did was to protect me. I understand that now.” You told her, voice smooth and confident.

She touched her forehead to yours for a moment before pulling away to meet your gaze again. “Then, dear one, I have one last question for you.”

“I’m ready.”

“Hereby and Forevermore, your duty as the Winter Aurora is to the North Pole. You are tasked with its safety and secrets, to protect all of its residents and the magic they hold. Do you accept the Title of Winter Guardian and all of the responsibilities it holds?”

“I do.” You nodded, meeting Bernard’s eyes for a brief moment, only to find the warmest, proudest smile on his face.

“Then this belongs to you.” In her hand, Mother Nature manifested a small, elegant silver tiara, embellished with glittering snowflakes. She set it gently in your hair, completing your transformation once and for all.

Jack started sneaking towards the door, but you lifted your hand, a wave of power rushing around him, turning him back towards the rest of you and giving him a push back towards the rest of you. He stumbled forward, looking around the group nervously.

“You’re—you’re not gonna kill me, right?” He asked. “You still need me! I’m the one who oversees the snow days and-and the snowmen! Think of the snowmen!”

“We do need a Jack Frost.” Mother Nature said. “Which is why while you were here terrorizing Santa, I was locating your successor. Jack, come on in.”

The doors of the Workshop opened and in walked a much younger man with shaggy white hair. Your best guess put him in his early twenties, and his wardrobe was much more modern than the other Jack’s as well, a blue hoodie adorned with silver swirls. He carried a large stick with a curve at the end of it, somewhat resembling a scythe.

“Nice to meet you.” He waved casually, leaning against his stick.

“My successor?” Jack’s eyebrows shot up. “You’re firing me?!”

“Oh, we’re doing more than firing you.” Tooth chuckled. He looked to you. “Aurora, what do you think we should do with him?”

“He needs to be put…somewhere he can’t hurt anyone else.” You decided. You turned to the Head Elf and he perked up, interested to hear your suggestion. “Do you have a snow globe I could borrow?”

He grinned and reached into his satchel, pulling out a fresh one. “I like the way you think.”

“What? No! You can’t just—” Jack shook his head, looking to Santa, to Mother Nature, to even Mrs. Claus for some other solution.

“This is for all of the Auroras before me, for the elves you brainwashed and the reindeer you stuck in a petting zoo. You’ll have lots of time to think about what you’ve done. And maybe someday, in five hundred years or so, I’ll let you go live a boring human life.” You told him, taking the snow globe from Bernard and focusing.

There was a bright flash of sparkles and then it was done, Jack was trapped in the confines of the little snow globe in your hands and he looked very angry about it, but his complaints were too muffled to make them out clearly. Santa reached for the snow globe, so you handed it to him and he gave it an amused swirl.

“Well done, (Y/N).” He complimented, passing the snow globe to Curtis. “See to it that this gets locked away properly.”

“Will do, Santa.” Curtis nodded and headed off.

“Now, (Y/N), if you are going to be staying here, I suppose someone will have to show you around the place.” Santa smiled knowingly.

Bernard cleared his throat. “I believe that would be my responsibility as Head Elf, Santa.”

“Yes, I believe it would.”

The Head Elf offered you his arm and you gladly took it, letting him escort you up the stairs of the workshop and down the hall so the two of you could have a private moment. As soon as you were out of sight, he turned to face you, his hands cupping your cheeks, nose brushing against yours.

“See, I knew you were more of a Winter.”

“Do I look okay?”

“You’ve never looked better.” He murmured, closing the distance between you and pressing his lips to yours passionately. In your Mortal life, you’d had your fair share of kisses, but kissing Bernard was something else entirely. He was experienced, that was for sure.

After what felt like an eternity, he pulled away, resting his forehead against yours. “Now, where would you like to explore first?”

***

Bernard took you around the Workshop, showing you all of the departments, which were full of elves, all of them working hard to ensure Santa was on schedule to leave that night. Bernard checked in with each of them as he did, making sure everything was going according to plan. Tooth and Mother Nature had stuck around to help out, and some of the other Legendary Figures had arrived as well, introducing themselves to you when you came around.

Finally, as the end of your tour, Bernard led you to an ornate set of stained glass double doors. As if by magic, they swung open when you approached, giving way to a beautiful bedroom, tall, arched ceilings, dancing Northern Lights projected across them. Stained glass windows, a large, wooden desk, hardwood floors and shelves and shelves of books. There was a carved armoire in the corner of the room, and against the leftmost wall, on a platform, was a giant canopy bed.

“This is the Aurora’s suite. You can decorate however you’d like. I had some elves from the interior design department get it fixed up for you.” Bernard explained, your arm looped through his, hand resting on his bicep. “If you’ll turn your attention right over here…”

He led you to the desk, dropping your arm and plucking something off of the desk. Your snow globe! The one he had given you three years before, still inscribed with those famous words that had started your entire adventure to begin with, the last remnant you had from this life before it was ripped away from you.

“My snow globe! How did you get it here?”

He shrugged, handing it to you. “My magic came back. Which means I can give this back to you.”

Bernard lifted his hand and you pressed yours against it, palm to palm. Gently, your power flowed from him back into you, a light breeze blowing through the room. He brushed your hair away from your face and pressed a long kiss to your cheek.

“There’s still a lot to do, but…I think we’re going to be able to pull everything together by tonight.”

“Well then you better get out there, Mr. Head Elf.” You smirked, pressing a kiss to the corner of his lips.

He met your eyes, “You’ll be okay?”

“I’m going to be just fine.” You assured him, setting the snow globe back on the desk so you could rest your arms on his shoulders, his hands resting on your waist. “And after, you and I will have all the time in the world to figure this out.”

“Oh! I didn’t mean to interrupt…” Curtis muttered, standing in the doorway.

“Curtis!” Bernard exclaimed, his voice cracking.

You giggled when he abruptly pulled away to face his number two.

“The tree topper department needs an extra set of hands.” Curtis said, motioning back towards the workshop.

“Can I help?” You asked.

“Oh, Aurora, you don’t have to—” Curtis shook his head.

“Yeah, but…can I?” You asked, eyes curious.

Curtis grinned. “Yeah, of course.” He made eye contact with Bernard. “I like her already.”

Bernard gave you a nudge. “I do too.”

***

At Santa’s request, you met him and Bernard at the stable gates to see him off for your very first Christmas as the North Pole’s Guardian. Your heart was racing. You didn’t know what was expected of you or what you’d have to do, but Bernard was there, his smile ever so reassuring.

Some of the elves that worked with the reindeer helped get them all properly harnessed and ready for the flight, carefully attaching their reins to the sleigh. Bernard walked you through what you’d have to do. As one of the oldest elves in the Pole, he remembered the process well.

“It’s easy. All you’ll have to do is raise your hand.” He was standing right behind you and raised your hand with his own, positioning it just so. “And lower the barrier so Santa can leave. And if you can’t, we have controls for that now. It’s…mostly ceremonial at this point.”

“Well that does make me feel a little better.” You smiled, turning towards him.

“And, um, after, I think you should…check the armoire in your room. I left something for you.”

“Oh you did, did you?”

“Something for the party. You don’t have to wear it, though.” He shrugged awkwardly, cheeks extra rosy.

“And the party starts…?”

“The minute Santa gets back.” Bernard explained. “And then we get three months off and pick back up in March.”

“Alright.” You nodded, smiling. “Plenty of time for you to show me the ropes.”

“I was thinking exactly the same thing.” He smiled, looking both ways, but not risking a kiss, not with all of the elves assembled to send Santa off.

“Everything ready?” Scott checked, donning his famed coat and hat for the flight just as a few elves loaded the famous gift bag, filled to the brim and then some, onto the back of the sleigh.

“All set, Santa.” Bernard nodded.

Scott put a hand on your shoulder, the other on Bernard’s. “We owe this Christmas to you two. Wouldn’t be standing here without either of you.”

“All in a day’s work, Santa.” You smiled.

“I’ll see you when I get back. And then the real fun begins.”

“I’ll see to it that we have enough eggnog at the ready.” Bernard replied with a wink, which Santa laughed at.

“Excellent.” He climbed into the sleigh and gave you the signal.

Just as you’d practiced, you lifted a hand and focused on the barrier protecting the Pole, made of the same magic that flowed through your veins. Effortlessly, the veil parted, making way for Santa’s sleigh and the elves erupted into cheers as Scott flew off into the sky. Bernard cheered loudly, turning to you and scooping you up in his arms, spinning you around in his excitement. You squealed with laughter.

Once your feet were on the ground again, you met his eyes briefly before pressing the quickest of kisses to his cheek and walking over to Carol, who was smiling a proud, maternal smile.

“Let’s get you ready for that party, huh?” She asked, looping her arm around yours. “You’ll have to fill me in on everything you’ve been up to! It’s nice to have a human-ish woman around here again.”

“I missed you, Carol.”

“I missed you too, hon.”

***

The deliveries went on without a hitch and Scott was back at the Pole faster than you could sing the Twelve Days of Christmas. Carol, you, and Betty had gone into your room to prepare. Carol did your hair, perching your snowflake tiara perfectly atop your head. You felt like a princess.

Betty helped zip up the dress Bernard had left for you, an elegant silver gown with a layered skirt, a tasteful slit up the leg, and off the shoulder sleeves, a layer of tule on top that was embellished with silver stars.

“You look stunning.” Carol complimented, resting her chin on your shoulder as the two of you admired your reflection.

“Thanks to you.” You tilted your head. “I’m still getting used to the hair, but…I think it looks nice like this.”

“Makes you look like a superhero.”

“I kinda feel like one, too.”

“Well you should. Scott told me everything that happened. I’m glad you were there to help.”

“I’m glad I was, too.” You said, pausing before asking, “So…theoretically speaking of course, is there a rule prohibiting the Aurora from…dating?”

Betty gasped, smiling. “I knew it! You and Bernard—”

“You and Bernard?” Carol asked, interested. “I never would have guessed.”

“Never?”

“Well, maybe a little.” She admitted, pinching her fingers together. “Saving the world together is a very romantic first date.”

“So…I am allowed to…date him?” You asked, earning a giggle from Betty.

“There is nothing, to my knowledge, prohibiting either the Aurora or the Head Elf from falling in love,” she reported. “But I can check the handbook if you want me too.”

“That is good to know.” You tapped your temple, laughing a bit.

Downstairs, you could hear the music pick up and the three of you took that as your cue to join the festivities.

Soon, you were standing at the rail overlooking the Workshop floor, where Bernard was standing, chatting with Curtis, Santa, and some of the other elves. As soon as he caught sight of you, he froze, his glass of eggnog halfway to his mouth and eyes locked on you.

You smiled coyly and lifted the skirt of the gown, carefully navigating down the stairs. He ditched his glass on a cluttered table and met you at the foot of the stairs, taking your arm.

He swallowed thickly, admiring you for a long moment before murmuring, “You look beautiful, Aurora.”

“Thank you, Bernard.” You smiled, tucking your hair behind your ear. “You picked a great dress.”

“Would you like to dance?”

“I’d love to.” You nodded, letting him lead you over to where the rest of the elves were paired up, swaying to a slow song. Your arms settled around his neck as he tugged you closer, a hand on your waist, the other finding your free hand.

It was clear in seconds that he knew how to dance, as he expertly spun you out and then back into him with ease, his chest flush against yours, mouth right against your ear. It was one of those moments you were forced to remember he’d lived a hundred lifetimes. He carried them well; he always had.

When the music picked back up, he said, “Let’s go get some air.”

You nodded, letting him lead you back up the stairs to the railing, where a few stray elves were also hanging out, getting some space from the heat of the party. The two of you leaned against the metal, looking down over your new home.

You were quiet for a long while before finally asking the question that had been on your mind since early that morning, in an airplane in another timeline. “Did you know her? The other Aurora?”

He nodded, face serious. “I knew her, yeah. I wasn’t Head Elf at the time, only second in command. She and I were acquaintances, but she was nice.”

“Mmm.” You hummed.

Bernard reached over and touched your hand. “I much prefer what you and I have this time around.”

“And what is it you and I have?” You asked.

“I’m…not sure yet.” Bernard shook his head, tugging you ever so closer, a gentle hand on your waist. “But I do know that in all of my 1600 years, I’ve never felt like this before. Even before, when you left, when I thought I’d never see you again, I was waiting for the day our paths would cross. I wish it had been under better circumstances, but…”

“But, I’m glad you found me.” You interjected, taking another step forward and resting your head on his shoulder.

Bernard leaned in to kiss you, but stopped, noticing all the elves watching. However, when you pointed straight up at a bundle of glowing mistletoe, he knew there was only one thing he could do…

THREE MONTHS LATER

“Ladies, thank you so much for agreeing to meet here at the Pole.” Mother Nature smiled at each of you, seated at the large round table in your office, which was, coincidentally, right down the hall from Bernard’s office.

Around the table were yourself, Mother Nature, and the three other Guardian Spirits, Briar Flores, Amber Sanderson, and Evangeline Cho, each of you dressed for your respective season, but Briar was absolutely glowing, as though a halo of light was positioned just behind her head at all times.

“Thank you for having us, (Y/N).” Briar thanked, bowing her head. “My place is absolutely a mess at the moment. Bunny has paint on just about every surface in the building.”

“Any time, Briar. This place has been quiet since the elves started their break. Things should be getting started up again soon, though.”

“If you need any help saving Christmas this year, you let us know.” Amber chuckled.

“Knock on wood Christmas doesn’t need saving this year.” You laughed, knocking on the table.

“I am serious, though, as soon as Easter is over, we all need to get mimosas and brunch. There is this lovely little island that is just so flowery and perfect this time of year, you’d all love it.” Briar beamed.

The rest of you murmured and nodded in agreement, stopping only when Evangeline looked up at the doorway, biting back a grin.

You looked up to see Bernard standing there, a bouquet of snowdrops in his hand.

“Hello, Bernard. How can I help you?”

“Oh, Aurora, I didn’t mean to interrupt. The guys in foliage need a second opinion when you have a minute.”

“Right, of course.” You nodded, looking to Mother Nature.

“Meeting adjourned. I’ll see you all next month for a progress report.” She smiled, straightening up her papers. The rest of you all stood up from the table and began to exit the office.

Mother Nature rested a hand on your shoulder, glancing back at Bernard. “You look really happy here, (Y/N).”

“I am really happy here.”

“Good, I’m glad.” She gave your shoulder a squeeze. “I’ll see you next month.”

Once the others had scattered to the winds, Bernard walked into the office, closing the door behind him.

You quirked an eyebrow. “The guys in foliage, huh?”

“Partially. Partially just the Head Elf wanting to make sure his Aurora had something pretty to look at.” He whispered, an arm drawing you closer for a kiss that you gladly reciprocated.

“Your Aurora already has something pretty to look at.” You replied, a finger booping the end of his nose.

He shook his head, grinning. “Does the flirting never cease?” “Check in with me in a few hundred years.” You replied, setting the snowdrops in your vase before lacing your fingers through his, your other hand rising to rest on his arm as you walked out of the office and towards the large room you’d been using to train your powers. “Now, where were we with those lessons…?”

Tagged: @madameggroll, @capamericant, @midnightmisses, @five-hargreeves-apologist

#bernard the elf x reader #bernard imagine #bernard x reader #bernard headcanons #bernard #christmas #the santa clause

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