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lilacwisps · 1 year

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Eyes to wonder (tongues to praise)

Ship: Sebastian Sallow x Ravenclaw Female Player Character Rating: T

Summary: In which Sebastian eavesdrops on a conversation, jumps to conclusions, and almost makes a fool of himself, yet, somehow, still gets the girl.

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Settled in a small alcove in the Slytherin Common Room, Sebastian thumbs impatiently through the fragile pages of The Secrets of the Darkest Arts. He'd stolen - borrowed- it from the Restricted Section of the library the night before, hoping to find something - anything - that could cure Anne. The book had promised to reveal the intricacies of the most complex curses but was yet to deliver anything useful - Sebastian is halfway through the tome and still hasn't found anything that could help his sister. Suppressing a frustrated sigh, Sebastian flips another page and focuses on the text.

Sebastian doesn't usually read the books he's borrowed from the Restricted Section in the common room, preferring the secrecy of the Undercroft or the silence of his dorm to the inevitable prying eyes and chatter in the commons. But this late October Friday afternoon is surprisingly warm, and the castle grounds are bathed in sunlight, and all the students have poured out into the courtyards, hoping to enjoy one last beautiful day before the weather inevitably takes a turn for the worse. As he is all alone in the common room, Sebastian figures there is no reason he couldn't read the book in his favorite alcove.

As Sebastian flips another page, he's startled by the sound of a door opening and closing in the distance. His hand reaches for his bookbag as he momentarily considers whether he should hide the tome before he realizes that the sound's coming from the direction of the dorms. With a sigh, Sebastian lets go of his bag - the route from the dorms to the exit doesn't pass directly by the alcove, so the chances of anyone seeing him are slim.

He's about to return to his reading when suddenly, he hears, "By the way, Imelda told me about your run-in with the new fifth-year earlier this week during the Beasts Class, and I am dying to know - is she as good at dueling as everyone claims she is?"

Sebastian rarely eavesdrops, but the words "new fifth-year" instantly get his attention, so he listens closer.

"Fortunately for her, it didn't come to that," Sebastian instantly recognizes Nicholas Nott's voice, "Howin was standing right there, watching everyone. Otherwise, she'd get a proper Hogwarts welcome."

Nott's companion, Henry Avery, laughs, and Sebastian rolls his eyes. Nott's always bragged about his dueling talent, but on the few occasions that Sebastian got to duel him, he'd found Nott to be utterly mediocre with the wand. Given how well Ava handled Sebastian himself during their Defense Against the Dark Arts class duel - and everyone at the Crossed Wands - Nott stood absolutely no chance. Nott was the lucky one that Professor Howin was keeping a close eye on the class - and it is almost amusing to Sebastian how much he doesn't realize it.

"I must say," Nott continues after a brief pause, "A spirited little thing that Rosier girl. And quite easy on the eyes too."

Sebastian's amusement melts away in an instant as an unfamiliar feeling uncoils in his chest. Sebastian would be lying if he said he'd never noticed that Ava was pretty - and, perhaps it should come as no surprise that Nott saw it too - yet, there's something about the casual brazenness of Nott's tone that makes Sebastian almost angry.

"Oh wow," Avery whistles, "Who would have thought she'd catch your eye! Davies will be all broken up over this when she finds out."

"Good then," Nott replies, "I am so tired of her. It was fun at first, but she'd grown so clingy in recent weeks. Won't leave me alone even in class - it is quite unbearable, honestly. The only peace and quiet I get these days is here, where she cannot follow. It's well past time to send her on her merry way - and if this does it, then all the better."

"Slowly working your way through all the Ravenclaw girls in our year, huh?" Avery laughs, "Oh, I have an idea - once you're through with all of them, you should consider ranking their…performance."

Sebastian slams the book in front of him shut. Anger, bright and bristling, rises in his chest, spilling liquid fire through his veins, making his heart pound in his ears. Avery would do well to watch his mouth - it takes almost all of Sebastian's willpower to stop himself from finding Avery and knocking his teeth out. But he had promised Ominis to try and stay out of trouble - at least for a little while - and so he clenches his fists till his knuckles are white and remain in his seat.

Sebastian does not expect Avery's words to get under his skin, but they do - after all, Ava is a close, dear friend, and he wants what's best for her. What other reason could there be for the white-hot rage blooming in his chest at the insinuation? Certainly not the way Sebastian's breath seems to catch in his throat whenever Ava meets his gaze or the way his heart flutters when his hand brushes against hers on accident as they walk side by side.

"A tempting thought, but I think I might stick with this one for a while," Nott chuckles, "Only if she learns to behave, of course. The way she'd comported herself in the Beasts class was quite unacceptable."

"I wouldn't count on it," Avery laughs, "From what I heard, your Rosier girl's rather difficult."

"There is a lot I'm willing to overlook for those dark doe eyes and that pretty pink mouth," Nott replies nonchalantly, "But certainly not everything. Luckily, I know just the way of teaching people their place."

"Now that's going to be interesting," Avery chuckles.

Blood rushes in Sebastian's ears, and his heart pounds rapidly against his ribs. Who does Nott think he is? Ava will never give him the time of day - not if Sebastian has anything to say about it. Somehow, the way Nott speaks of her so brazenly, the way he must have looked at her during the class - and Merlin knows when else - feels like a transgression - an almost personal offense. She isn't his speak of - or even think of - that way.

She isn't yours either, a voice in his head taunts.

"Are you sure you want to get involved?" Avery says suddenly, "I feel like things might get…messy."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Nott asks coolly.

"Well, I've heard Reyes say that your Rosier girl is actually Sallow's little squeeze - apparently, they've been caught in flagrante the other night in some broom closet or another," Avery explains.

The memory brings hot blush to Sebastian's cheeks. A few nights ago, he and Ava tried sneaking into the Restricted Section to search for The Secrets of the Darkest Arts. Sebastian did not expect any trouble on their regular route but was in for a nasty surprise when he realized that prefects were stationed at both ends of the corridor. The only option to avoid getting caught right then was to hide and wait for the prefects to leave their posts to patrol - and the only available hideout was an old broom closet.

The closet in question turned out to be tiny - even leaning against opposite walls left hardly an inch of space between them. Sebastian's heart fluttered in his chest as he realized just how close they were, and suddenly, his whole body felt as though on fire. A part of him wanted to leave that very second to make sure he didn't do anything he shouldn't have - and yet another part of him never wanted that moment to end.

Sebastian's heart races as he remembers Ava's warm breath ghosting his neck as she whispered in his ear.

They were not doing anything untoward - or so Sebastian tells himself - but it seems the Hufflepuff prefect who caught them thought differently. And, apparently, she'd shared her conjectures with Imelda, at the very least.

"Reyes has no idea what she's talking about," Nott scoffs, "And you should know better than to trust such silly rumors. The girl is a Rosier - there's no way she'd be involved with a half-blood."

Sebastian rolls his eyes - before attending Hogwarts, he had no concept of the "blood purity" status. Both his parents were wizards - and Sebastian had always felt that was all anyone needed to know about him. As it turned out, however, he was wrong - his mother's parents were muggles, which made him a half-blood in the eyes of those who could trace their unbroken lineage of wizards to Merlin himself.

Sebastian always considered the concern with blood purity silly - it's not like having wizard parents and grandparents, and great-grandparents made his classmates stronger or more intelligent. Although some bloodlines carried impressive abilities - like Ominis's Parselmouth ability - those were few and far between.

"Imelda's pretty reliable when it comes to this sort of thing," Avery argues, but Nott just scoffs again.

"Even if it were true - and I'm sure it isn't - it won't take very long to show the Rosier girl that there are finer things in life than some orphaned half-blood."

"And if she doesn't listen?" Avery prods, "You did say she was quite spirited."

"In that case, I have this as insurance," Nott replies.

"Oh, so you are very serious about it," Avery whistles, "Well, then, this is going to be interesting."

"What can I say - I always play to win."

From the alcove, Sebastian cannot see Nott or Avery - so there is no way for him to find out what insurance Nott is talking about. A sudden memory comes to mind of a great scandal from last year when Gryffindor's Seeker unexpectedly dropped out of the team just two days before the Quidditch final and was later spotted with Nott all around the castle. Unable to find a replacement Seeker in time, Gryffindor suffered a crashing, catastrophic defeat, and Slytherin won the Quidditch cup for the third year in a row.

Instantly, the rumors swirled that a love potion may have been involved - persistent gossip plagued the school for the better part of two weeks until Headmaster Black personally interfered to put an end to them. Despite the headmaster's interference - and, perhaps, because of it - Sebastian was almost certain that the rumors were true. Knowing Nott, Sebastian wouldn't put it past him to bewitch the Gryffindor Seeker to ensure Slytherin's Quidditch victory - just as he wouldn't put it past Headmaster Black to cover up the ordeal. After all, Black had an extensive track record of showing favoritism to his friends' children, and from what Sebastian could tell, Nott's father was among those friends.

Could it be…?

Sebastian recalls the conversation between Nott and Avery, and the more he thinks of Nott's words, the more certain he becomes. That must be it! The "insurance" Nott's been talking about - he is going to give Ava a love potion. That bastard!

"Speaking of which," Nott continues, distracting Sebastian from his thoughts, "I have an appointment to keep. A little bird had told me that Rosier is in Hogsmeade now - and I'm going there to meet her."

"Good luck," Aver responds, "I'll be curious to hear how everything went once you return."

"Actually, I thought you might want to come along," Nott cuts him off, "She is with Pecul… with Poppy Sweeting, so I thought you could keep Poppy company while I talk to Rosier."

"Poppy Sweeting, huh?" the sudden shift in Avery's tone is almost unsettling, "Well then, I'm in."

The distant sounds of steps are followed by the rumbling of the stone snakes opening the door to the Slytherin Common Room, and Sebastian knows he needs to hurry. He absolutely cannot let Nott do whatever he is planning to do. Shoving The Secrets of the Darkest Arts into his book bag, Sebastian rushes to exit the Common Room, but before he can make it out, the door opens again, and in comes Ominis. There are a few small feathers on his shoulders and a couple in his hair, and Sebastian instantly knows that Ominis is coming back from Owlery.

"Sebastian," Ominis says, recognizing his steps instantly, "I was about to look for you."

"I don't have time right now, I need to get to Hogsmeade," Sebastian replies, "It's urgent."

"What happened?" Ominis asks, instantly frowning.

"It's Nott - he wants to sneak a love potion to Ava," Sebastian explains, shifting impatiently from foot to foot, "I cannot let that happen - I have to stop him before he does!"

"A love potion? Nott?" Ominis muses, confusion apparent on his face, "Wait, how would you know that - did he tell you?"

"He told Avery, and I overheard," Sebastian replies before adding, "Well, not in so many words, but what he said was essentially an admission of guilt."

"What do you mean?" Ominis asks, and Sebastian lets out an exasperated sigh.

"I can't explain now, I need to hurry," Sebastian says, frustrated, "What would be the fastest way to Hogsmeade?"

"Through the passage behind the statute of One Eyed Witch," Ominis says, "Unless, of course, something drastically changed since we've last taken that path."

"Thank you," Sebastian says, and he's about to rush past Ominis when his friend turns around.

"Wait," he says firmly, "I'll walk with you, and you can explain the situation to me."

Sebastian knows that arguing would be futile. They are out of the dungeons and almost at the statue of the One-Eyed witch by the time Sebastian finishes recounting Nott and Avery's conversation to Ominis.

"I still don't understand why you think Nott's trying to give Ava a love potion," Ominis says once Sebastian finishes his story, "Did I miss something?"

"Think, Ominis, think," Sebastian sighs, exasperated, "What could this insurance be if not a love potion?"

"Could be many different things," Ominis shrugs, "I don't know why a love potion was the first thing that came to your mind. Did you see anything?"

"No…But you don't understand - he's definitely planning to do it! And we need to protect Ava from whatever plan Nott's concocted," Sebastian argues, but Ominis cuts him off.

"Our new friend is perfectly capable of handling trolls and unforgivable curses," Ominis says, "Do you really think she needs help dealing with a dimwit like Nott?"

Sebastian frowns - Ominis isn't wrong, she's quite capable, and yet something inside is urging Sebastian forward. They stop in front of the Statue of the One-Eyed Witch.

"You know," Ominis tilts his head to the side as an amused smile spreads across his face, "From where I stand, it sounds like you just don't want a chap you hate asking a girl you like out on a date - which is understandable."

A hot, bright blush spreads across Sebastian's cheeks as warmth rises in his chest. The memory of Ava's breath ghosting his neck when they hid in the broom closet sends Sebastian's heart racing.

"It's not like that," he says hastily, "I only do this because she's my friend, and I care about her well-being."

"Could have fooled me," Ominis chuckles.

Sebastian rolls his eyes, then turns to the One-Eyed Witch Statue and murmurs, "Dissendium." A quick, creaking sound notifies him that the passage has opened.

"Wish me luck," he tells Ominis as he reaches for a ledge of the statue to climb up.

"What do you mean, "wish me luck"?" Ominis chuckles, "I have a feeling things are about to get very entertaining - and I have no intention of missing any of it."

"Suit yourself," Sebastian scoffs as he hops inside the statue. The slide is short, and soon enough, Sebastian finds himself in the dark tunnel leading to Honeydukes. A moment later, Ominis is standing by his side.

As they make their way through the passage, the conversation between Nott and Avery keeps running through Sebastian's mind - with one thing particularly gnawing at his heart.

"Ominis," Sebastian calls out in the dark, "I was curious about something… The Rosiers - what are they like? I'm sure you must have met some of Ava's relations at some point."

"An old, pure-blood family with a penchant for dark magic and a strong distaste for anyone who isn't pure-blooded. They view everyone who isn't a member of the "Sacred Twenty-Eight" as beneath them and utterly unworthy. That may be why my grandmother's favorite friend was a Rosier - they took great joy in tormenting muggle-borns and half-bloods alike."

A myriad of thoughts rush through Sebastian's mind, and it is as though something heavy squeezes his chest, making it hard to breathe. And, instead of a thousand things that cannot be put into words, he simply says, "But Ava isn't like that?"

"No," Ominis replies, "No, she isn't."

Poppy brings the mug to her lips and takes a long sip of butterbeer. She's utterly exhausted - she and Ava had spent the better part of the day scouting the hills north of the school in search of the poacher's camp. It seemed they were looking in the wrong place - or, perhaps, the poachers were much better at hiding their tracks than Poppy and Ava expected - since they hadn't found a single trace of the camp.

Exhausted by the futile search, Poppy and Ava made their way to Hogsmeade to rest and think through their next steps. Poppy has never been particularly fond of the Three Broomsticks - it always felt too loud and crowded - but she has slowly realized that, perhaps, it wasn't all bad when you had a friend by your side.

Looking over at Ava, Poppy smiles softly. When Poppy first met her in the Beasts class, Ava came off aloof and cold - but then Poppy saw how her gaze softened when she looked at the kneazles and instantly knew that she had met a kindred spirit.

Ava's sitting next to Poppy, absent-mindedly tracing the foggy sides of her mug with her right index finger. She seems relaxed, leaning fully against the back of her chair, yet her face remains pensive.

"What's on your mind?" Poppy asks, her eyes following the patterns Ava leaves on the mug.

"I'm still thinking about our earlier…excursion," Ava replies, turning to Poppy, "We were in the right place, I'm almost sure of it. It's not too difficult to relocate a camp - if only we could trace where they went."

"Wish we could ask the centaurs for help," Poppy sighs. While the centaurs were renowned for being quite well-versed at tracking, most of them avoided the wizardkind like the plague - and Poppy could not blame them.

"Oh?" Ava says, "Got any centaur friends that could help us?"

"Me?" Poppy chuckles, then sighs wistfully, "I wish. Unfortunately for us, they rarely make contact with humans."

"I think I remember reading something about that," Ava frowns, "But I figured if anyone had a centaur friend, it'd be you."

"When I make one, you'll be the first to know," Poppy laughs, taking another sip of her butterbeer, "There are so many magical creatures in the world - I wish I could meet and befriend all of them."

"I have full faith in you," Ava chuckles, shifting in her seat.

"What about you?" Poppy asks, resting her hand on her chin and looking at Ava, "Is there a magical creature you'd like to meet?"

Ava tilts her head to the side, pressing her finger to her lips, thinking. "Maybe a dragon," she says after a momentary pause, "Although I wouldn't say I want to "meet" one. Rather, I'd like to see one from a safe distance - preferably, far enough away that the dragon can't see me."

Poppy chuckles at Ava's words - she, too, would like to see a dragon.

"If you ever happen upon a dragon," she says, "You just need to be careful. They are highly intelligent creatures and won't attack until they feel threatened."

"Given how the wizards have been treating the dragons for the last few centuries, I wouldn't blame one if it attacked me on sight," Ava shrugs, "Although I still would rather avoid becoming a dragon's dinner…Other than dragons, I'm curious to see unicorns - I've heard they are breathtakingly beautiful, and I'm also curious to see if there's truth to certain old wives' tales."

"Ah, I wish you were here two years ago!" Poppy exclaims, "Professor Howin brought the unicorns to class one day during our third year."

"Did she? How exciting! I really wish I was there," Ava sighs before adding, "But, who knows, perhaps I could see some in the Forbidden Forest - Natty told me she'd caught a glimpse of one when she was out collecting the ingredients for her potions."

Silence falls upon them for a moment. Poppy leans against the back of her chair and sips her butterbeer. The Three Broomsticks is packed on this late October evening, and though Poppy usually hates crowds, she doesn't feel uncomfortable. The chatter of the crowd, coupled with her exhaustion, makes her eyelids heavy, and Poppy almost struggles to keep her eyes open.

The comforting trance is broken just a moment later when she suddenly sees Nicholas Nott and Henry Avery in front of their table. Instantly, Poppy's tense, straightening in her seat - out of the corner of her eye, she can notice just how quickly the smile vanishes off Ava's face at the sight of the two Slytherins.

"What a pleasant surprise," Nott smiles, but his smile doesn't reach his eyes, "Good evening, ladies. Care if we join you?"

Both Nott and Avery are carrying two mugs of butterbeer, and Poppy knows that this meeting is anything but a chance encounter. Poppy sighs, annoyed - after the day they've had trying to find the poachers' camp, the last thing she wants is to be around either Nott or Avery.

"We'd rather you didn't," Ava responds coolly, but Nott does not listen.

"Come now, there's no need to be like that," Nott says, placing butterbeer mugs on the table and sitting across from Ava while Avery settles next to him, "I'd have us be friends. I understand there had been a little…misunderstanding between us earlier, and I just wanted to straighten things out - and apologize."

Poppy rolls her eyes - only a fool would believe that Nott was even slightly remorseful over hurting Persephone. She clenches her fists, feeling her nails dig into her palms - if Nott and Avery don't leave soon, they will regret it.

"You should be apologizing to Persephone," Poppy says firmly, looking Nott in the face.

"I'm sure you will be able to pass on the apologies to her," Nott replies.

Poppy scoffs and crosses her arms before her, "As if she's accept."

"We've heard you out," Ava says calmly, "Now, if you don't mind…"

"That wasn't everything I had to say," Nott interrupts, "As a gesture of goodwill, we come bearing gifts. I know you are looking for the poacher's camp - and I also know its location."

"How would you know any of that?" Poppy asks, as anger, bright and bristling, rises in her chest, "Were you eavesdropping?"

Belatedly, she realizes that, perhaps, she should have feigned ignorance, but it's much too late now. Poppy looks at Ava apologetically, and her friend offers her a reassuring smile.

"It was by chance, really, with no ill intent. I've overheard you two speaking at the library," Nott replies, "And it just so happens that I know where to find what you're looking for - so does it matter how?"

Poppy tenses - she knows Nott is lying. They have discussed the poacher's camp on school grounds before, but never in the library. Was he secretly watching them?

Ava must have realized it too, but nothing in her face betrays that fact.

"Well then," she says, looking Nott straight in the eye, "Where is it?"

"What's the hurry?" Nott says, leaning against the back of his seat and placing his elbow atop its backrest, "I will tell you - but first, we should have a drink to celebrate our new friendship." With that, he slides two mugs of butterbeer toward Poppy and Ava.

Poppy rolls her eyes and scoffs. "New friendship" - the audacity!

"Don't get ahead of yourself," Ava replies coolly.

"I wouldn't dare," Nott says, a smirk tugging at the corner of his lips.

Poppy glances over to Ava - she doesn't trust Nott or Avery, but they are running out of time to track the poachers. If Nott is telling the truth, suffering through this one conversation would hardly be too high a price to pay. Ava meets Poppy's gaze and nods - it seems she's thinking the same. Reaching forward, Ava takes the mug that Nott gave her.

"Wonderful," Nott smiles, "I'm glad we understand each other. So tell me - how is aunt Ariadne these days?"

"You know my mother?" Ava narrows her eyes.

"Of course I do," Nott tilts his head to the side, studying her face, "My parents hold an annual gathering at our summer estate for the most prominent members of the wizarding society - the Blacks, the Gaunts, the Lestranges, the Malfoys… And the Rosiers are always most welcome guests, of course."

Poppy shakes her head - it's hard for her to comprehend how some people can be so invested in their "blood purity" status. Despite being a pure-blooded witch herself, Poppy never gave it much thought. Perhaps, because her blood status was just a chance occurrence rather than a result of multiple generations of inbreeding, all in an effort to keep the bloodline "pure."

"Mother will be expecting you to join your parents this summer since you will turn sixteen by then," Nott continues, "It's a unique chance to meet everyone who matters in the wizarding world all at once - you don't want to miss it."

"A grand gathering, to be sure," Ava says flatly, "But I must decline - unfortunately, the entirety of my summer is already spoken for."

Poppy shifts in her seat, annoyed - she had hoped they'd learn the location of the poachers' camp by now, but it seems Nott is in no hurry to reveal anything. Just as Poppy thinks things cannot get worse, Avery addresses her.

"I was watching you the other day by the enclosures," he says, "How's…Proserpina - that rodent you take care of?"

"I already said - her name is Persephone. And she is no rodent; she's a kneazle," Poppy bristles instantly.

Avery's smile is unsettling - and it doesn't escape Poppy that he said he'd been watching her. Shiver runs up Poppy's spine - she doesn't remember seeing him there at all, and it unnerves her.

"Right, right," Avery nods, "Same thing. Are you going there later? I could keep you company - the school grounds can be quite treacherous in the dark."

Poppy isn't afraid of the dark - or most things, really - but the way Avery's looking at her makes her feel uneasy. She could spend the whole night by the enclosures taking care of the animals and not feel unsafe for a moment if she could be sure he wasn't lurking in the dark.

"I'll pass," she says firmly.

Poppy grasps her butterbeer mug and ponders her options. They were no closer to finding out the location of the poachers' camp than when the conversation had started, and it was high time to cut their losses. But before she can say anything to Ava, Nott looks out the window behind them.

"Would you look at that," he says, half in awe. Poppy turns around in her seat and sees the sky lit up with a myriad of purple and green sparks - it's the biggest fireworks she'd ever seen. Instantly, she thinks of all the small magical creatures that left their hideouts to enjoy the quiet of the night and hopes, in vain, that the bright light and the sounds of the explosion hadn't spooked them too much.

"Zonko really outdid themselves this year," Avery adds.

When they turn back to the table, it is as though something has shifted imperceptibly. Poppy takes a deep breath, and suddenly, she's overwhelmed with the smell of lake and sweets and something else she cannot quite describe - it's old, yet airy, almost magical, and makes her think of a long-forgotten secret passageway she'd discovered once that connected the greenhouses to the Hufflepuff Common Rooms.

Poppy frowns, confused, but before she can say anything, the door to the Three Broomsticks flings open with a loud thud.

"Wait, don't drink it!"

Despite Ominis's needling, Sebastian is almost glad his friend decided to tag along - without him, it would have probably taken at least twice as long to locate Ava and Poppy. Ominis's wand shines its usual red when it leads them to the Three Broomsticks.

"They must be here," Ominis says.

Sebastian nods and looks into the window - the bar is full of people, so it's unlikely he'd be able to see them from the outside, but he still tries.

To Sebastian's surprise, he sees Ava and Poppy almost immediately - they are at the table by the neighboring window. Instantly, his heart drops - Nott and Avery are at the table with them. Was he too late? Has Nott already done what he'd been planning?

He sees the way Nott looks at Ava with a keen, hungry gaze and clenches his fists. If Nott thinks he has won, he's sorely mistaken.

"So," Ominis asks expectantly, "Is she there?"

"Yes," Sebastian replies darkly. He hesitates momentarily before adding, "And Nott and Avery are there too… I need to warn her about the potion, I hope it's not too late."

"Sebastian," Ominis steps in front of him, stopping him from moving, "As entertaining as it would be to watch all this unfold, I feel it is my duty as a friend to make you stop and think. At this point, Nott's presumed love potion plan is pure speculation - if you are wrong, think about how that will look."

"What would you have me do then?" Sebastian crosses his arms before him, "Nothing? And simply leave Ava to her fate?"

"No," Ominis shakes his head, "I would have you talk to her - but not about the potion."

A loud explosion rattles the air behind them, and when Sebastian looks around, he sees thousands of green and purple sparks in the sky.

"Must be one of Zonko's fireworks," he explains, turning back to Ominis.

From the corner of his eye, Sebastian sees through the foggy window of the Three Broomsticks Nott shift forward. For a split second, something that looks like a tiny vial is in his hand - and he's holding it over Ava's mug. Sebastian's heart drops - Ava cannot see it; she's still looking out the window at the fireworks.

"I told you he was going to do it!" Sebastian exclaims, rushing to the door, "I just saw Nott pour something into her cup."

Ominis must have said something, but Sebastian cannot hear him - not when the blood rushes so loudly in his ears, and his heart pounds against his ribs like mad. Logically, he knows that Ava isn't in danger - even if she were to drink the potion, no harm would come to her - they will take her to the Hospital Wing immediately. But the mere thought of her acting under the influence of a love potion, even for a moment, shatters his heart into a million pieces.

The heavy oak door flings open, slamming into the wall behind it, sending a tremor through the building. Suddenly, all eyes of the bar patrons are upon him, but he's only looking at Ava.

"Don't drink it!"

But he's too late - the mug's already at her lips, and he can only watch helplessly as she takes a sip and then another.

No.

The entire establishment erupts in cacophony, and out of the corner of his eye, Sebastian can see Sirona come out from behind the bar and head toward him, and he knows he needs to hurry. Before Sirona can stop him, he's already at the table where Ava and Poppy sit with Nott and Avery.

"Ava, don't drink it," he says, "I saw Nott spike your butterbeer."

Placing her cup on the table, Ava looks up at Sebastian, wide-eyed and surprised. She seems lucid enough, which is a relief - perhaps, he's not too late.

"You saw him spike my butterbeer?" she repeats, frowning.

"Yes - when you were looking at the fireworks. I saw it from outside the window," Sebastian explains hastily as Sirona approaches them.

Ava looks to Nott, who just shrugs. "I have no idea what he's talking about," Nott says, picking up his own butterbeer and taking a sip, "Did you hit your head so hard during your last duel, Sallow, that you are now seeing things that aren't there? Maybe it's time you took a trip to the Hospital Wing."

Before Sebastian can respond, Sirona is between him and the table.

"What's going on here? Why are you storming into my bar yelling?" she demands.

"I saw Nott spike Ava's drink with a love potion when I was outside," Sebastian explains earnestly, "So I had to warn her. I'm sorry for the disruption, but there was no time to do it any other way."

"You really should stop imagining things, Sallow," Avery budges in, "It's quite embarrassing, you know."

Sirona looks from Sebastian to Nott, clearly weighing the accusation.

"Well, if it was a love potion, it must be pretty bad because I don't feel any different," Ava chuckles, "Guess I'm just heartless."

There's confusion in Nott's gaze, which is all the admission of guilt Sebastian needs. The unquelled rage uncoils in his chest, bright and bristling, making him lurch forward and grab Nott by the lapels of his robes.

"By Merlin's beard," he snarls, "I'm going to make you rue the day you were born."

"Get your dirty half-blood hands off me," Nott yelps, trying to grab over Sebastian's writs to shake his hands off his lapels. Avery gets up to interfere, but Sirona's between Sebastian and Nott, forcefully separating them before he can.

"Stop it, both of you," she says firmly, "Whatever happened, I will not tolerate any fights at my bar."

"Ava, are you sure you are feeling alright?" Poppy asks, "I can walk you to the Hospital Wing if you need."

"Don't worry about me, I'm alright," Ava responds.

A part of Sebastian wonders how that is possible - Potions may not have been his strongest subject, but even he knows that love potions worked almost instantaneously. Could she really be immune?

Dread rises in Sebastian's chest - a cold wave clenches his heart, making it hard to breathe. What if he was wrong - what if it's not a love potion that Nott poured into her drink but rather some kind of poison?

"As for the accusation," Sirona continues, frowning, "The situation is quite serious, and we will need to investigate to uncover the truth."

"I could go fetch Professor Sharp," Ominis offers instantly, "He will be able to tell right away if there is something in this cup that doesn't belong there."

"No need," Sirona replies, taking out her wand, "Try working as a barkeep as long as I have, and you'll learn all the spells necessary for such a check out of pure necessity."

She points the wand at Ava's mug and traces a symbol Sebastian hasn't seen before. The liquid in the cup shifts slightly but stills almost instantaneously. Seconds pass, one after another, but nothing changes.

"Hmm, it doesn't look like this drink's been tampered with," Sirona frowns, then turns to Sebastian, "Are you sure you saw something happen to it?"

Sebastian's heart drops. "I know what I saw," he says vehemently, blood rushing in his ears as a cold, sinking feeling unfurls in his chest, "He did something to it."

"You are a liar, Sallow!" Avery exclaims, "I don't know what you are playing at, but you will pay for this."

"Everyone needs to calm down," Sirona says firmly, "This could have been an honest mistake."

Sebastian looks at Sirona and suddenly realizes that Nott is not behind her. Glancing around, he sees Nott by the window. He appears surprisingly still, almost stiff, as he stares outside.

"Nicholas, hey, Nicholas," Avery calls out, but Nott doesn't respond, only continues staring through the window, mesmerized by something it seems only he can see.

"You are…so beautiful," Nott finally whispers.

It takes Sebastian a second to realize Nott is talking to his reflection.

"Nicholas, are you alright?" Avery asks, approaching Nott, who, once again, doesn't respond.

"Perhaps, we should test all other mugs on the table," Ava suggests, amused, resting her chin on the palm of her hand, "Who knows what we may find."

Sirona nods and casts a spell on the remaining three mugs. Sebastian watches closely - for a brief moment, the liquid in all cups is still until, suddenly, Nott's butterbeer starts to glow a pale pink. Sebastian frowns at the sight - how is this possible?

"Nicholas, this isn't funny," Avery continues, trying to pull Nott away from the window, but Nott simply shakes off his hands. Sebastian can hardly suppress a chuckle as he watches the scene unfold.

"Huh," Ava muses, "Perhaps, it was a good potion after all."

Sebastian looks to Ava and frowns - he was certain that he'd seen Nott pour the potion into her mug. But then how…

"She did this!" Avery exclaimed suddenly, turning around and pointing to Ava, "She's the one who did this - she wanted to bewitch Nicholas, and Sallow's only covering for her."

"Mr. Avery," Sirona sighs, exasperated, "If I were you, I'd save your breath - everyone here knows how love potions work. If Miss Rosier prepared this potion, Mr. Nott wouldn't fall in love with himself."

Avery clenches his fists as he looks to Ava, "What did you do to him?"

"Nothing he didn't try doing to me," Ava smiles sweetly, amusement apparent in her dark eyes, "Let's just say I returned the gift. By the way, next time you try to sneak a love potion into someone's drink, maybe choose something other than butterbeer. You see, when a mixture of cream, caramel, and butter suddenly starts smelling of old books, smoke, and sandalwood, anyone would become suspicious. "

Sebastian looks at her wide-eyed and awe-struck. When did she have time to switch their drinks?

"Mr. Avery, please get Mr. Nott off the premises," Siron says, crossing her arms, "Both of you are banned from my establishment indefinitely."

Avery grumbles but knows he cannot argue. Grabbing Nott's forearm, Avery tries to pull him away from his reflection, but to no avail. Sebastian could watch Avery struggle to get Nott to move the entire day, but Ava and Poppy have other plans.

"It's time for us to head out," Poppy says, and Ava nods as they get up from their seats. Without a word, Sebastian and Ominis follow them outside.

"Nott's certainly going to remember this one for a while," Ominis chuckles as they walk into the town circle.

"He better - else next time I'll make sure he really regrets it," Ava laughs, looking at Ominis over her shoulder.

A sudden fluttering of wings attracts Sebastian's attention - he looks up and notices a small owl circling above them. He's never seen one with such a peculiar coloring - the owl's feathers are soft yellow with brown, red, and gold speckles. After a moment, the owl quickly descends, landing on Poppy's outstretched arm.

"This is from gran," Poppy smiles, accepting the letter from the owl's claws and petting it gently on its head, "Finally."

As Poppy reads the letter, the owl makes its way up her arm and onto her shoulder - then, suddenly, hops over onto Ominis's shoulder.

"Sorry," Poppy offers apologetically, "She doesn't usually do this."

"It's alright," Ominis replies calmly, "I don't mind - what is your owl's name?"

"Eos," Poppy smiles.

"Hello, Eos," Ominis chuckles, "Would you like to be friends?"

"I think she's begging for treats," Poppy laughs, "She always does when she brings letters, but, unfortunately, I do not have any on hand. Sorry, Eos, I'll have to see you later at the Owlery."

"Actually, I happen to have some - I was at the Owlery sending a letter right before we left for Hogsmeade," Ominis reaches into his robes and pulls out a small pouch of dried owl treats. Shaking out some treats onto his palm, he moves his hand closer to the owl, "Here you go."

"You just might be her most favorite person in the world right now," Poppy chuckles, watching Eos pick at the treats.

"Sebastian," Ava says suddenly, "I wanted to thank you for coming to warn me."

A small half-smile blooms on her lips, making Sebastian's heart flutter.

"Any time," he says, trying to calm his racing pulse, "By the way, when did you manage to switch the mugs?"

"When you ran into the bar - the commotion you caused gave me just the split second I needed," Ava smiles, then tilts her head to the side, "But I'm curious - how did you find us? Were you and Ominis just passing by the Three Broomsticks when you saw that entire ordeal?"

Blood rushes in Sebastian's ears, and his mouth suddenly feels dry. "Actually, I was looking for you."

"Looking for me?" Ava frowns, meeting his gaze, "Why?"

Sebastian's heart is in his throat - he knows that if he ever wanted to tell Ava about everything that's been weighing on his heart the last few weeks, that made him lay awake at night yearning for something he couldn't quite describe, now would be the time. Yet, somehow, the words never come to him.

"I…I overheard Nott and Avery plot this in the common room, so I knew I needed to warn you," he says instead.

Something shifts in Ava's gaze, and she smiles an unfamiliar, soft smile, "Thank you - I am so fortunate to have a friend like you."

"Ava," Poppy calls out excitedly, looking up from her letter, "I think gran just gave me an idea of how we can find what we've been looking for! We'll just need to drop by Pippin's Potions first!"

"The store's closing soon, so we should go now," Ava replies, then looks back to Sebastian, "Well, we'll be on our way - see you later."

Ava and Poppy are halfway across the town circle when Ominis lets out a deep, exasperated sigh and says, "Sometimes I just cannot believe how daft you are."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Sebastian frowns, crossing his arms before him as he turns to Ominis.

"Merlin's beard, it's almost painful to witness you be so oblivious," Ominis continues, "Especially when she's just all but outright admitted it."

"Admitted what?" Sebastian asks, confused.

Ominis sighs again. "You know, the way you've been getting on my nerves the last few weeks, perhaps, I should let you suffer," he says, "But I can't stand your whistful sighs or longing gazes every time she's around any longer, so I will tell you."

"You can't see the way I look at her!" Sebastian protests.

"I can feel it," Ominis replies, "And if you think that I'm the only one who noticed, then you are a bigger fool than I thought."

Sebastian feels a bright blush rise in his cheeks. "So what are you going to tell me?" he asks.

"Do you remember what Professor Sharp told us about Amortentia?" Ominis says. Sebastian frowns, trying to remember, but Potions have never been his strong suit.

"Not really," he shakes his head.

"You really are hopeless," Ominis chuckles, "Well, fine - in short, Amortentia smells different to every person, based on what they like. And Ava just said that the spiked butterbeer smelled of old books, smoke, and sandalwood…Is none of that ringing a bell?"

Sebastian stares at Ominis, confused.

"Really?" Ominis raises an eyebrow, "I wonder where you can find many old books? Perhaps, in the school's library…And the smoke, that couldn't possibly be from a certain fire spell you seem to really favor - the very same one you taught her just a few weeks back, could it? As for sandalwood… I wouldn't know, but I also cannot do all your thinking for you, Sebastian."

Unbidden, Sebastian's mind goes to the night he and Ava got caught hiding in the broom closet from the prefects. It was almost dizzying to have her so close, and when her warm breath ghosted his neck as she spoke, he could barely hide his shudder.

"That's a nice cologne," she whispered, "It's cardamom and…sandalwood, right?"

Suddenly, it feels as though all pieces of the puzzle fall into place.

"Ominis," Sebastian says, heart racing in his throat, "What do I do?"

"Do you like her? Then go tell her."

And so Sebastian does.

He runs through the streets of Hogsmeade, hoping and praying that Ava and Poppy haven't left the village yet. To his relief, he sees Ava just outside Pippin's Potions store.

"Ava!" Sebastian calls out.

"Sebastian?" Ava looks at him confused, when he approaches, "Is everything alright?"

Silhouetted by the soft light of a streetlamp, she looks absolutely lovely, and Sebastian's heart flutters in his chest.

"Ava, I…"

A myriad of thoughts rushes through his mind. He wants to tell her of the way his heart skips a beat every time she smiles at him and about how happy she makes him and how much that scares him because, truly, he'd never thought that one person could bear that much happiness and of how he'd lain awake every night until dawn for the last few weeks yearning - aching-for her.

Yet, somehow, when she looks at him with those mesmerizing dark eyes, Sebastian finds himself lost for words, so he does the only thing he can.

Sebastian doesn't remember leaning in - only the moment his lips found hers. Ava feels delightfully soft and warm - and, yet, completely still under his touch. Sebastian's heart drops as a cold wave of dread rises in his chest. Was he so utterly mistaken?

But then she's kissing him back - and the very axis of his world shifts ever so slightly. It's everything Sebastian has ever wished for - slow and sweet and utterly dizzying, spreading liquid fire through his veins and making his head spin.

When they pull apart, Sebastian's flushed and breathless, and he notices a light blush rise in Ava's cheeks as well.

"Was there Amortentia in your butterbeer too?" Ava chuckles.

Before Sebastian has a chance to respond, the door to the potions shop swings open, and Poppy comes out carrying a small satchel.

"Got everything we need," she says happily, "And I think I know where we need to search next."

"Well then, lead the way," Ava replies before turning to Sebastian and smiling, "We've got some matters to attend to now, but when I'm back at Hogwarts, perhaps, you could find me - and we could finish this discussion then."

"Of course," Sebastian replies, his voice a little hoarse, "I will see you later."

#sebastian sallow x mc #OC: Ava Rosier

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lovely-maryj · 8 months

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hunger games but wizarding world

i had a sudden urge to do this. don't ask why because idk either. includes characters from harry potter's golden/lightning (what is the actual consensus for the name really?) era, marauders era and from hogwarts legacy. plus mattheo riddle and enzo berkshire (oc's that i don't own but i love them so they're here) and dianthe potter (my oc and harry's little sister from nowhere really but I'm also planning for her to be my gryffindor (or maybe hufflepuff?) mc in hl. but ig with a diff surname since I'm pretty sure you can't use potter).

let's pretend they're all alive at the same time and people with the same surnames who are originally from different times are just cousins or something

there's only 24 tributes so if you're looking for a certain character ... sorry. anyways, i used good ol' brantsteele.net for this.

the bloodbath

As the tributes stand on their podiums, the horn sounds.

Dianthe grabs a shovel.

Evan clutches a first aid kit and runs away.

Remus runs away with a lighter and some rope.

Harry runs away from the Cornucopia.

Ominis runs away from the Cornucopia.

Peter, Ron, Theo, and James share everything they gathered before running.

Draco runs away from the Cornucopia.

Sirius finds a canteen full of water.

Blaise runs away from the Cornucopia.

Luna runs away from the Cornucopia.

Rabastan runs away from the Cornucopia.

Tom stabs Poppy while her back is turned. (tom, how dare you!)

Garreth runs away from the Cornucopia.

Enzo runs away from the Cornucopia.

Lily snatches a bottle of alcohol and a rag.

Sebastian runs away from the Cornucopia.

Mattheo runs away from the Cornucopia.

Regulus and Barty work together to drown Hermione. (uhh...the turns have tabled?)

day 1

Evan steals from Lily while she isn't looking.

Enzo, Garreth, Mattheo, Tom, and Barty hunt for other tributes.

Rabastan stalks James.

Theo discovers a river.

Dianthe poisons Blaise's drink. He drinks it and dies. (damn. poor blaise.)

Remus travels to higher ground.

Ron receives clean water from an unknown sponsor.

Regulus and Draco threaten a double suicide. It fails and they die. (nooo why (┬┬﹏┬┬). i thought they'd be smarter smh)

Ominis defeats Sirius in a fight, but spares his life. (omi has morals but we all knew that)

Harry fishes.

Sebastian overhears Peter and Luna talking in the distance.

arena event

A cloud of poisonous smoke starts to fill the arena.

Sirius is engulfed in the cloud of poisonous smoke.

Barty and Evan decide to run into the cloud together. (rosekiller is dead)

Remus sacrifices himself so Luna can get away.

Dianthe survives.

Enzo survives.

Ron survives.

Peter survives.

Tom survives.

Mattheo is engulfed in the cloud of poisonous smoke.

Garreth sacrifices himself so Rabastan can get away.

Ominis survives.

Lily survives.

Harry and Sebastian decide to run into the cloud together. (dianthe's brother and the love of her life just died together. that should've been her and she's mad and jealous lol. of who? take your pick.).

Theo slowly pushes James closer into the cloud until he can't resist any more.

14 are dead and it hasn't been a full day yet.

night 1

Ominis is unable to start a fire and sleeps without warmth.

Ron dies of dysentery.

Tom destroys Lily's supplies while she is asleep.

Rabastan lets Dianthe into his shelter.

Luna is unable to start a fire and sleeps without warmth.

Peter throws a knife into Theo's head. (＃°Д°)

Enzo receives fresh food from an unknown sponsor.

the feast

The cornucopia is replenished with food, supplies, weapons, and memoirs from the tributes' families.

Lily, Rabastan, and Ominis confront each other, but grab what they want slowly to avoid conflict.

Dianthe decides not to go to The Feast.

Peter stuffs a bundle of dry clothing into a backpack before sprinting away.

Enzo decides not to go to The Feast.

Luna takes a staff leaning against the cornucopia.

Tom falls into a pit and dies. (pathetic)

day 2

Rabastan fishes.

Peter makes a wooden spear.

Luna discovers a cave.

Dianthe explores the arena.

Enzo constructs a shack.

Ominis steals from Lily while she isn't looking.

+3 so a total of 17 dead tributes

night 2

Rabastan is unable to start a fire and sleeps without warmth.

Peter lets Lily into his shelter.

Dianthe begs for Enzo to kill her. He refuses, keeping Dianthe alive. (di is miserable without her brother and lover and enzo's a sweetheart)

Ominis quietly hums.

Luna passes out from exhaustion.

day 3

Dianthe defeats Rabastan in a fight, but spares his life.

Ominis diverts Lily's attention and runs away.

Enzo fishes.

Peter practices his archery.

Luna makes a slingshot.

night 3

Lily attempts to start a fire, but is unsuccessful.

Rabastan, Dianthe, and Ominis sleep in shifts.

Enzo receives medical supplies from an unknown sponsor.

Luna is awoken by nightmares.

Peter receives clean water from an unknown sponsor.

day 4

Ominis constructs a shack.

Dianthe begs for Peter to kill her. He refuses, keeping Dianthe alive. (does everyone like her or smth cuz not even wormy over here took the chance)

Lily chases Enzo.

Luna practices her archery.

Rabastan picks flowers.

night 4

Rabastan pushes Enzo off a cliff during a knife fight. (rip)

Dianthe lets Peter into her shelter. (gurl what are you doing. yeah he spared you or whatever but why)

Ominis sets up camp for the night.

Luna screams for help.

Lily tends to her wounds.

day 5

Peter searches for a water source.

Luna questions her sanity.

Lily questions her sanity.

Rabastan camouflauges himself in the bushes.

Ominis and Dianthe split up to search for resources.

a total of 18 deaths

night 5

Peter and Ominis talk about the tributes still alive.

Lily, Luna, Rabastan, and Dianthe sleep in shifts.

day 6

Rabastan discovers a cave.

Dianthe tries to spear fish with a trident.

Peter is pricked by thorns while picking berries.

Ominis hunts for other tributes.

Lily and Luna work together for the day.

night 6

Ominis, Luna, Peter, and Dianthe tell each other ghost stories to lighten the mood.

Rabastan climbs a tree to rest.

Lily cries herself to sleep.

day 7

Luna discovers a cave.

Ominis, Lily, Peter, and Rabastan raid Dianthe's camp while she is hunting.

night 7

Rabastan sees a fire, but stays hidden.

Lily and Ominis hold hands. (um. what)

Dianthe climbs a tree to rest.

Peter is unable to start a fire and sleeps without warmth.

Luna dies from hunger.

day 8

Dianthe, Rabastan, Lily, and Peter hunt for other tributes.

Ominis fishes.

night 8

Rabastan accidently steps on a landmine.

Lily forces Dianthe to kill Ominis or Peter. She decides to kill Ominis. (omg. lily why and diane ... WHY)

day 9

Dianthe overhears Peter and Lily talking in the distance. (i'm scared for her)

night 9

Lily falls into a frozen lake and drowns.

Dianthe falls into a pit and dies.

wtf.

diane got 2nd place at least ...

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endlessly-cursed · 2 years

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𝑫𝒖𝒃𝒐𝒊𝒔 𝑸&𝑨

Canon or Fiction? If your family is completely original: Where did the Family name come from? What was your inspiration and who was the first OC you created for it?

Oh, the Dubois are 100% canon too! Tho I did steal some inspo from this test from Pinterest that I took a silly night at 5 am in my bedroom when I couldn't sleep. The name Dubois came with my 5 am eyesight from this post too. I read "Dubois" instead of Dupuis and when I found out my mistake it was too late lmao.

The first member ofc was my og gal, Isabelle Dubois!!

Family Ties: What other families are related/connected to this one? Are they Canon families or creator made families? (Tag them!)

The MacMillan family is the first known tie, for Charlotte was a MacMillan by birth

The Malfoys through Elise were also an attempt of Tristan to have more relevance and influence. It all played well... Until his daughter married someone outside the S28.

Her brother married into the French family of Minville, the headmistress' daughter at the time. Adrienne would soon pass on her flaming red hair onto her grandchildren

As for Blanche, she married the wealthy Astor family for love and had three children with him. Her eldest, Robert, married Enya Thorne, one of the wealthiest heiresses in the Wizarding World and had two sons, Dante and Lionel @cursebreakerfarrier

Adrienne's son Ètienne married the beautiful and rich Catalina Rosier, another French family and from the Sacred 28, though she was half-blood, being the illegitimate daughter of King Edward VII. They had three children, and Elodie, the oldest, became a single mother of Sebastian, who expanded his other Dubois branch until the birth of his granddaughter Lucille.

Jude Dubois was a single mother and daughter of Adrienne and Ètienne who had a son with Nigel Ashbourne, duke of Sandringham named Joseph. He had his grandmother's red flaming hair. She later married Caspar Brokenshire and had two daughters with him, Evangeline and Annalisa. Not much is known of the sisters.

Joseph continued the Dubois male line and married Annabeth Abbott and had a son with her, Rhys, who'd marry another Frenchwoman, Léah Dubois, red-headed as well and had four children: Guinivere, Jacob, Isabelle and Òphelie. Gwen carried on the Dubois tradition of being single mothers and got pregnant during a mission with her partner Malcolm Anderson and ran away to quietly give birth to their son Simon, who too has the flaming red hair.

Not much is known of Jacob, he is indeed a mystery, but many say he adopted children.

Isabelle married Penny Haywood and had two children, Yvonne and Silas.

Ophélie never married nor had children

Foundations: What year and which OC was the founder of the family line? If the family goes back hundreds of years and you don’t know the first member, tell us about the oldest OC in the family you have created.

Though the Dubois trace back to the reign of Louis XIV and one of his mistresses, the records of the family were destroyed by the French rebels in 1793 in retaliation and only during Napoleonic times in 1805 there was a Dubois who survived the mess, Leopold's father, Charles. Not much is known, only that Leopold was his son.

Fun Facts: Do you have any misc lore you have that you haven’t had a chance to post about? Talk about anything you like!

The Dubois were initially black haired and with brown eyes, but Charlotte's blonde hair and blue eyes passed down on her genes

The first red-headed Dubois is named Ravenna. It is not known much of her other than she was the mother of Tristan, but many speculate she could've been either a Prewett or a Weasley, more likely a Prewett.

The Dubois have a chateau that has been rebuilt three times, twice by fire and one in a fire by the rebels in 1793 when found out that some were related to Louis XIV and could claim the throne from the executed Louis XVI

Lucille is the youngest Dubois recorded, only 5 months younger than Yvonne.

The chateau was a cause of dispute between the Dubois siblings in 1994 and thus the cousin rivarly begun. It has not been solved yet

Adrienne Minville, wife of Ètienne, is considered the most important Dubois, for from her both branches descend from thanks to her children and their prominent marriages.

Tagging @kathrynalicemc since the Lineage Challenge was created by her

#lineage challenge #hogwarts legacy #fbawtft #riddle era #mc: isabelle dubois #oc: blanche dubois #oc: jude dubois #oc: elodie dubois #catalina rosier #ètienne dubois #charlotte dubois #joseph dubois #oc: sebastian dubois #oc: yvonne dubois #oc: lucille dubois

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saintchaser · 2 years

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i'm sorry but i just can't see evan peters as evan

#in my head evan is tanned with black hair and sharp features #and on that subject i can't really see maxence as barty either (he looks more like sebastian croft in my head)#but everyone is entitled to their own and this is not meant to bash on any fancasts!! i love seeing different interpretations and ways of #viewing said characters #evan rosier #rambles

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corignem · 1 year

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magical world tag drop part two.

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arthenaa · 1 year

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Say Yes To Me - Ominis Gaunt x Reader

Plot Summary: After your eventful years at Hogwarts, you are now a famous magizoologist known by all. Life's great and all's well until you see Ominis Gaunt's engagement on the daily prophet.

Content Tags: that dilemma newt and tina had in fantastic beasts, yeah this is it but its you and ominis, ominis works at the ministry, mentions of ominis's older brother, gender neutral reader, sebastian being sebastian, slight angst if you squint, reader trying to keep their shit together, kiss kiss fall in love, idiots in love basically.

"Poppy! Can you please hand me the eye drops for the mooncalfs? I think I left it upstairs!"

You had yelled from your place within the Erumpent's mouth as you examined it's molars with your illuminated wand. This certainly wasn't a good position to look at, after all who would be putting their head inside a giant's mouth knowing it could very well decapitate you in seconds. However, this was the usual for you.

After graduating Hogwarts, your specialties and skills have led you to the magizoology field due to your affinity with beasts. It wasn't a big surprise to all considering you had always excelled in Beasts class and the questionable returns to the castle with a new beast curling in your arms. Professor Fig had often joked about which magical creature you'd be holding in your pocket for the day. He thinks it's absolutely comical whenever you did have one.

With your accomplishments and great efforts in defeating Ranrok, you had immediately garnered influence and reputation in magizoology, earning you the title of being the wizard world's most famous magizoologist. It certainly helped a lot with gaining access to various areas all over the world for you to rescue and release the beasts within your care.

Currently in your apartment in London, you busy yourself with a checkup on the beasts. Poppy Sweeting, a very old friend and your co-worker as well had been your partner since last year. The two of you lived together in the apartment and tended to the needs of the wondrous beings living in the magical depths of your basement.

You lift yourself from the creature's mouth, smiling as you gently caress it's horn. The Erumpent nudges your hand, unaware of its strength causing you to stumble back. "Easy Lola. Feels better doesn't it?"

It lets out a grunt before turning to do whatever it was originally doing. You let out a sigh as you turn to look up the stairs, waiting for the former Hufflepuff to come back with the eyedrops. "Poppy? Did you get lost or something?"

"Sorry! I just received today's newspaper." Poppy apologetically replies as she rushes down with the drops on her arms. She stops in front of you, a sympathetic look on her face.

"What's wrong?" You look at her, confused. She gives you the eyedrops with a sheepish smile. "You look worried."

"I— Well. It's fine," She nervously chuckles as she places the newspaper on the cluttered table behind you. "It's just the usual anyway."

You furrowed your eyebrows at her skittish behavior before shoving the eyedrops back to her arms and grabbing the newspaper from the table. Poppy tries to steal it back from you but you simply raise your hand and using your height advantage.

"I swear, Y/N. It's just the usual! You needn't concern yourself with it!" Poppy reasons as she tries to jump up and take the paper from your hands.

"You always read it out to me, I don't get what all the fuss is about if it's just the—" And there it was. Written in bold letters at the front page was a name you didn't even expect to reach the Daily Prophet. "... usual."

"I told you." Poppy sighs as she takes a step back. Your eyes were stuck on the front page, rereading the same set of letters printed on the paper.

Ominis Gaunt engaged to Eleanor Rosier. The Gaunts continue to rise.

Ominis Gaunt engaged to Eleanor Rosier.

Ominis Gaunt engaged.

You let out a shaky gasp as you hide your face with the newspaper. Poppy stares with a sad look on her face. Everyone knew of your trio. Wherever Sebastian was, everyone expected Ominis and you to be there. The three of you were stuck to the hip and it was like that for the rest of your years in Hogwarts. It was because of that fact that you'd fallen in love with one of them. Many suspected it to be Sebastian but it was in fact the blue eyed blonde that had your heart in his grasp. You had tried to hide it in your 6th year but failed because of Sebastian's meddling and so you had this weird situationship with him during your last year in Hogwarts. It was never established that you two were together but the fleeting touches and lingering glances were the reason you held on for so long.

Being a magizoologist meant that you needed to travel a lot. Mostly it was out of the country and that meant you rarely got the chance to see him after your graduation and so over time, you two had fallen out of communication. You hoped, hoped, that someday you'd be able to face him and that he would return the same feelings that he proclaimed back then in the safety of the Undercroft, your hands in his and a warm smile on his face but apparently, Merlin had other plans for you.

Poppy makes a move to comfort you but you suddenly pull away, looking at her with a crazed look. "No. No! Don't comfort me. I'd feel all the more pathetic."

"Eh, well. I've seen you in worse situations." Poppy smiles. You roll your eyes, mood gone sour as you toss the newspaper in the fireplace before pointing your wand at it and casting Incendio. Poppy looks between the fireplace and at your face. "I still needed that—"

You send her a glare to which she raises her hands up in defense. You grab the eyedrops from her and walk over to the mooncalfs who chirp at your presence. Blobs of liquid fall down the dropper as you give your undivided attention to the cute beasts in front of you.

Yeah. I'll just stay here and wallow in my misery. At least, I have my beasts with me.

"I can literally hear what you're thinking, Y/N." Poppy chuckles as she watches you tend to your creatures. "I won't let you lock yourself in here for 4 weeks."

"How'd you know it's going to last 4 weeks?" You reply as you turn to glance at her for a moment before going back to tending to the mooncalfs. "I've got a call for a Thunderbird in North America. I'd probably just bury myself in work... Forever."

"Do you really believe the news? You know Daily Prophet has a tendency to overexaggerate details. It's basically the whole point of journalism." Poppy shrugs as she plays with a loose thread on her coat. You let out a breath as you turn towards her with a deadpan look on your face.

"How can you exaggerate an engagement exactly? Tell me Poppy, I would like to be enlightened." You sarcastically reply as you finish the mooncalfs before moving on to the puffskeins. Poppy follows you, finding the situation amusing.

"I find it to be considerably suspicious. Didn't Ominis mention that he would be renouncing his own family? It's just so odd that out of nowhere he's engaged." Poppy reasons as you lift a puffskein in your arms, examining it's physique. Poppy moves to stand next to you, lightly petting the creature in your arms.

"Stop pulling ideas out of your arse, Poppy." You mumble. Poppy rolls her eyes before slapping your arm. You yelp in pain before gently putting the puffskein back with it's family.

"I'm just saying you really can't believe baseless stories unless you hear it from the source." Poppy leans on the fence surrounding the puffskein enclosure as she looks at you with a smile. You look back at her with a frustrated huff. "On the bright side, if it's true, then you'd get to finally move on!"

"Merlin help me or I will use an unforgivable on myself." You mutter as you bury your face in your hands. Poppy full on punches your arm causing you to groan. "Ow! Do it again and I'll fire you! For real, this time!"

"Yeah? Eat shit." Poppy snorts to which you flip her off. "You have no choice, you'll get to see him tomorrow anyway."

"Yeah..." You absentmindedly reply before your eyes widen in fear. "Huh? Tomorrow? What do you mean tomorrow?!"

"Don't tell me you forgot that you'd have to renew your wand permit and travel visa." Poppy chuckles. "I heard Ominis works in that department. Such a perfect timing, isn't it?"

You let out a horrified gasp as you crouch down on the floor. You'd rather let yourself be swallowed by a basilisk if it meant that you'd get to postpone seeing Ominis Gaunt (a bit of a overreaction but it doesn't matter).

"Can't you just do that for me?" You whine as you grab the bottoms of her coat. Poppy slaps it away.

"I can't renew your own wand, dumbass. I already did mine a week ago. You were too busy drinking away with Sebastian." Poppy pats your head as an apology before making her way back upstairs. "Wear your best perfume tomorrow, love! I'm sure he'll ditch Rosier for you."

Poppy winks before laughing. You glare at the Hufflepuff as she ascended up the stairs.

I can't do this. Fuck.

"You can do this, dumbass."

Sebastian grabs your shoulders, preventing you from leaving the building. It seems that the Sallow boy had taken on Poppy's role as your tormentor for the day and it doesn't help that he's an auror. Wand permits are a must and being deemed as an illegal wand owner is not really the best look for your reputation. You look back at Sebastian, giving him the best crup eyes you could muster.

"I will hurl you myself into that department if you do that again." Sebastian threatens with raised eyebrows to which you pout and frown. "I know why you're feeling so skittish today. Everyone's gossiping about it and it's not really the best thing to hear about your best friend. Talk to him. You, of all people, should know that."

You feel your body surrender to Sebastian's tough grip as he walks with you (more like drags) to the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. He places you in front of an office before turning you towards him as he fixes your tie and hair. You look up at him with sad eyes. "Is it too late to apparate out of here?"

"Wizards and witches can't apparate within ministry grounds. You'd have to go outside for that." He smiles brightly as he tucks a stray hair back to your hairstyle. He leans close to sniff you before furrowing his eyebrows in contemplation. "New perfume?"

"Ugh. It was Poppy's idea." You flush at Sebastian's discovery. The former Slytherin chuckles.

"He'd love that for sure." Sebastian winks.

"Shut up."

"You know he's just as whipped for you as you are for him, right?" He pats your arm before slipping his hands in the pockets of his coat. "You have nothing to worry about."

"Easy for you to say." You mumble. Sebastian's eyes crinkle as he smiles at your sulking behavior before it moves slightly to the side of your face, directed behind you.

"Sebastian." A voice you haven't heard in months was finally within your presence. You're almost too afraid to turn around but you're glad you did. Ominis had grown so well in your absence. The face once filled with soft curves had now developed more into a sharper and sculpted face. He seems more taller and leaner than before and absolutely looks dashing in his three piece suit. Your mouth falls open as you unashamedly check him out. ".... is that you, Y/N?"

You had almost forgotten to reply if it weren't for Sebastian hard nudge to your ribs. You yelp in pain, clutching your side as you glare at the man beside you. "O-Ominis, hey...."

The gorgeous man in front of you smiles nervously as he shifts in his position. "What brings you here? I've heard a lot about your travels. It seems you were quite busy these past few months."

"Y-yeah. Lot of creatures need saving, y'know?" You laugh awkwardly as you glance at Sebastian who looks like he's about to combust with how red he is from preventing his laughter.

Awkward silence engulfs the three of you and Sebastian had to calm himself down to prevent him from cracking up. "They're here for a renewal, both wand and visa. I don't want to chase a magizoologist all across the world just because they forgot basic wizard law."

"Haha, funny." You sarcastically reply. Sebastian winks at you before walking towards Ominis who leans close to whisper something to him. The blonde flushes and you can't help but wonder what the actual fuck did Sebastian say to him that got him coughing and blushing.

"I'll see you two later for lunch! Admin needs me." Sebastian waves before rushing off. This now leaves the two of you standing in the hallways of the ministry. You let out an awkward cough that alerts Ominis.

"Ah Right. Come in." He nervously opens the door to his office. You cautiously enter the room, marveling at the sight of his cozy office. Paraphernalia decorates the shelves on his walls with banners of his former house, Slytherin hung on one side of the wall. A plant is situated on one corner and an array of food is presented on one side. Comfortable chairs are positioned in front of his desk and a flashy name plate with the words 'Ominis Gaunt, Department of Magical Law Enforcement' engraved on it. What catches your eye though is a frame of you three on his desk. It was captured on your last day in Hogwarts. The picture moves as you three huddle for the picture, smiles on your faces before laughing at one another. It continues on a loop that puts a smile on your face.

"I have this on my desk too." You mumble softly as you lift the frame to admire it more. Ominis smiles before sitting behind his desk, putting his wand down and leaning back on the chair.

"Yeah. It's made quite differently for me." He extends his hand, palm facing up as he signals for you to give it to him. You place it on his hand and with a grab of his wand and a flick of his wrist, you suddenly hear sounds from the frame.

"Sebastian come closer!"

"I'm already close! Do you want me to fuse into you or something?"

"Can you guys shut up, he's taking the memento!"

Then laughter was heard. Ominis smiles at the audio before placing the frame back on his desk. "I play that whenever I miss you two."

You look at him as he fiddles with his wand, still reminiscing the memory. Whenever he misses me, huh? And Sebastian... Of course. Don't get too ahead of yourself.

"Listen Omini-"

"Y/N-"

The two of you began to speak at once and stopped altogether. A moment of silence is heard before you both laugh at the situation. "You go first." Ominis smiles with a nudge of his hand.

You look at him, remembering the details of his face as you decide that this is it. The moment you'll let go of him. It shouldn't be a surprise to you that Ominis would get married soon. He came from a family known for keeping their blood pure and while you hoped that he'd escape the grasps of his wretched bloodline, it seems like even he would not be able to and so as a good friend of his, you'll just try to be happy for his sake.

"Listen, I came here not just because I needed to renew my visa and permit. I just really wanted to tell you that I'm happy for you." You bite your lip, distracting yourself with the physical pain rather than the emotional one. Too invested in thinking of what to say, you fail to notice Ominis's face drop at your words. "I-I know it's hard but I want you to know that I'll always be here. Me and Sebastian. I'll support you and--"

"Wait! No!" Ominis abruptly stops your speech which you were grateful for because if you continued any further, you fear that you'd end up bawling in front of him. "I-I don't want you to be happy."

"Huh?"

"I mean-- I don't want you to be happy that I'm happy because it's not happy at all. But for you, I'm happy--" Ominis fumbles with his words as he grips the fabric of his pants on his knees. "It doesn't make sense but you know what I'm talking about."

Your tongue pokes the inside of your cheek before letting out a confused laugh. "... I actually don't know what you're talking about."

"I should be the one saying that to you." He whispers as he leans forward to rest his face in his hands before taking a deep breathe and exhaling. "I-I heard that you were seeing people and I just- I just wanted to congratulate you."

Seeing people? What in Merlin's name?

"Ominis." You blink in confusion. "Who told you this?"

"Uh... Sebastian?" He mumbles quietly as if he had been caught doing something wrong.

"I'm not seeing anyone, Ominis. Did you really let yourself be fooled by Sebastian, again?" You giggle as you watch his expression change from nervous to annoyed.

"That bloody fool always read me news about you. I can't believe he faked me out on this one. Of all things!" He groans in frustration. "I'll skin that boy."

"Please don't. Merlin knows we'll need him as a scapegoat for something in the future." You joke. He laughs at your jest and you almost let yourself fall all over again. "Aside that, I'm really happy for your engagement."

A confused look is back on his face again before a dreaded look appears on his face. This is the most expressive you've seen Ominis ever since he caught you sneaking out of the Undercroft. "Gods Y/N. I'm not engaged. I-It's my older brother who's going to be engaged to Eleanor. We both have similar names and the Daily Prophet assumed that it's me. I've already sent a report regarding that."

You have never felt more relieved in your life. You bury your face in your palms. "God, I thought I was about to die. I had almost tried to bury myself in work for 4 weeks because of that."

"Why?" Ominis stands up from his seat as he feels his way around and eventually kneels down in front of your seat. "Why would you want to do that?"

You remove your face from your palms before cupping his cheeks. "I admit I have made myself scarce these past few months but I have-- I still am hoping that you... you..."

You couldn't bring yourself to finish as you stare at his face that looked so full of hope and so you did the only thing you knew that would communicate the words you couldn't tell him.

"Y/N?" He softly speaks your name before you pull his face to yours and pressing your lips to his. Ominis had frozen in shock but eventually recovered as he pressed himself closer to yours. His arm encases your waist while the other cups your cheek. Lips move against one another as thousands of unspoken words flow through the air. The two of you release one another with a final peck before a smile graces your faces.

"I'm still hoping that you're in love with me." You finish as your index finger gently caresses the beauty marks that grace his skin. He closes his eyes at the feel of your touch before grabbing hand to kiss the inside of your wrist.

"Yes. Yes I am." He answers with no hesitation. You smile at his confession before pulling him in a tight hug. He releases you after a short while, hands cupping your face as he continues to leave chaste kisses all over it. You giggle at his affections. "I wasn't able to ask you back then but will you be mine? Merlin knows how long I've wanted to ask you this."

He has a hopeful look on his face that makes you want to coo and baby him but all you do is smile and peck his lips. "Of course. I'd always say yes to you."

The two of you smile and bask in each others presence before you're reminded of his face flushing earlier. "By the way, what did Sebastian say to you awhile ago?"

Ominis's face flushes before intertwining your fingers. "He told me to make the most out of your stay."

You let out an amused chuckle. Sebastian that sneaky motherfucker.

Before you could tease him about it, Ominis grabs your hips and pulls you in close. "Think Sebastian will mind waiting for a while? I'd like to heed his advice for once."

You chuckle before biting your lip as he pulls you up, grabbing your thighs and carrying you to his desk. You wrap your arms around his neck as he brushes his lips against yours.

"Go ahead, I don't think he will."

A/N: i also want to makeout w him in his office good lord. anys tysm for supporting my workss. i love writing for my two idiots <3

#ominis x reader #ominis gaunt x reader #ominis gaunt #ominis x mc #hogwarts legacy x reader #hogwarts legacy #sebastian sallow

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blueraineshadows · 2 months

Text

Blood Bound Part Five

Sebastian Sallow 🔺️ F!MC 🔺️Leander Prewett

Sebastian heads into the unknown to break MC out of Azkaban. MC struggles to adjust to the outside world. Leander descends deep underneath London to scope out the illegal duelling ring.

15k words. Tags: NSFW / threat / blood / violence / angst / unresolved sexual tension / torture / organised crime / PTSD / anxiety

Chapter Master List and AO3

Mutuals taglist at the end 💖✨️

Five: The Prince, the Villain, and the Maiden Fair

Sebastian

Looking at the map Black Dahlia had made one last time, Sebastian was fairly confident that he could find his way through the corridors of Azkaban towards MC's cell. The hum of anticipation throbbed through him as he folded the parchment, tucked it into his jacket pocket, and touched his fingers to the blood amulet. Clenching his jaw, he glanced across to where Rosier stood waiting, dressed all in black like him, a serious expression on his pretty face.

He was going to get MC. This time, when he arrived at the cell door, she would be real and not a phantom in a memory.

“I'm ready when you are, mate,” Rosier said, holding out his hand.

Sebastian nodded, reaching out to grasp Rosier along his lower arm, and Rosier grasped him the same way. Their eyes met, an acknowledgement passing between them that they were about to travel into a highly dangerous and horrific place, breaking Wizarding law to bring out a convicted prisoner.

“Let's go,” Sebastian said firmly, his stomach twisting viciously as he visualised the reception chamber from the memory and Disapparated them both with a crack.

The first thing that struck Sebastian was the chilling oppressiveness, his stomach catching up from the long distance Apparition as he stumbled into existence inside the Auror reception chamber, Rosier catching his breath beside him. As his eyes swung about the room, recognising it from the pensieve memory, he shivered at the utter desolation and icy chill that crept up his neck.

“Well, this is nice,” Rosier huffed, ruffling his hair as he gazed around. “I love what they have done with the place.”

Throwing Rosier a dark look, Sebastian stepped up to the signing in book on the counter, his finger brushing over the column of entries written by Prewett. He had been here nearly every day for the last few weeks, the last entry only yesterday. Adrenaline was pulsing through Sebastian, his hands curling into fists as he turned his gaze towards the door that led into the prison proper.

“Have your wand at the ready,” he said quietly, slipping his own out. “Those Dementors will likely be on us straight away.”

“Have you ever come up against one before?”

Sebastian swallowed as he looked at his partner in crime and shook his head. “No, but I’ve practised the Patronus charm plenty enough,” he said, gripping the handle of his wand tightly. “I hope you have, too.”

Rosier’s blue eyes darkened with a memory, and his gaze flicked down. “Don’t worry, I know what I’m up against. Dementors came for my father. I was just a kid, but I’ll never forget it.”

The leaden ball of grief that Sebastian carried in his own chest tugged sharply as he took in the shadows on Rosier’s face. He knew what it was like to lose a parent so young. He nodded and turned his gaze back towards the door, lifting to pat his hand against Rosier’s back in a gesture of understanding.

“We get to the cell, get MC out, and then we get the fuck out of this place. Alright?”

“This girl better be worth it, mate. That’s all I can say,” Rosier said, readying himself.

Sebastian felt his throat constrict, his eyes hardening. “Trust me. She is worth it.”

The frigid weight of despair grew heavier as they walked swiftly down the corridor, the fire sconces casting flickering shadows in their wake as they approached MC’s wing, the distant mournful screams of those trapped here making Sebastian’s heart thud rapidly beneath his ribs. Trying to shut out the sounds became almost impossible as they entered the colossal prison wing, barred cell doors offering unsettling glimpses into life here that he tried to avert his eyes from.

Above their heads swooped the tattered robes of the guards, the chilling rattle of their death breaths spurring Sebastian on quicker, his own breathing harsh and tight as two Dementors broke free from their pack and rushed downwards towards him and Rosier.

“Expecto Patronum!” Rosier cast, his arm thrust upwards, a burst of white erupting from his wand in a swelling arc. The Dementors hesitated, retreating back towards the high ceiling, their shifting shapes being swallowed in the darkness beyond.

“It’s not much further,” Sebastian muttered, already looking forward to getting out of here. He held the back of his hand against his nose, breathing through his mouth to avoid the stench of abandoned humans. The true horror of Azkaban was laid bare as his boots scraped against the dark stone, eyes checking the numbers above the doors until he came to the one he needed, and he slowed his step.

“Is this it?” Rosier asked quietly.

A rasping chuckle sounded from the darkness, and Sebastian glanced to the opposite side of the corridor, the gnarled hands of an old crone grasping the iron bars of her door. His nose wrinkled in disgust at the sight of her, repulsed by the gaping maw of her mouth and the filth of the ragged prison garb she wore. This one had been here a long time and was still clinging to mortality by a thread of madness.

“Merlin’s bollocks,” Rosier hissed, flinching back. He visibly shivered, and the woman cackled even louder. “That ain’t her, is it?”

“Don’t be a twat,” Sebastian scowled, grabbing Rosier by the front of his coat and shuffling him away from the crone and towards MC’s door.

He was impatient to see her, desperate to get her out of here, his guilt making the oppression feel thicker than it had any right to be. With his heart in his mouth, he stepped up to the cold iron bars of her door and peered into the gloom, his eyes sweeping the cell. A slight crease formed on his brow as there appeared to be no sign of her.

“MC,” he whispered, taking hold of a bar of the door and gasping as it swung on its hinges. It was unlocked.

Stomach plummeting, icy fear prickling the back of his neck, he yanked the door open and stepped into the cell, calling her name louder, but the room was empty. It was impossible. Panic gripped his throat, and he darted back out to check the cell number again, certain it was the right place. Tugging out the piece of parchment, he double-checked the details, his chest so tight his breathing sounded too loud to his own ears. He was in the right place.

“What’s going on?” Rosier asked, his eyes glancing up and down the corridor nervously, his throat bobbing.

“She should be here!” Sebastian said, returning to the cell as though MC would have appeared in the seconds he had been gone, but the room remained stubbornly empty. A bucket and a mug stood on the floor, and on a stone ledge, next to a dirty blanket, was a small glass potion bottle, the stopper discarded beside it. “Where is she?”

Rosier shrugged, glancing around the cell himself, the cold squalor of it making his cheeks paler than usual. “Are you sure this is the right place?”

“Yes,” Sebastian snapped, his fingers wrinkling the parchment as he felt his fear shift into fury. His cheeks flushed with it, eyes so dark they glittered as he strode out of the cell. “If that bitch, Black Dahlia, has tricked us, then she is going to die a very slow and painful death.”

Rosier was close on his heels, worry creasing his brow as he glanced up at the gathering interest above their heads. “Seb, we need to hurry up,” he muttered. “We need to get out of here.”

Grabbing at his hair in frustration, Sebastian realised that he couldn’t even search the prison in case she had been moved to a different cell. It made him almost choke. MC could be anywhere in this vast tomb of horror, and he had neither the time or the resources to hunt for her.

Fear and fury twisted together and he felt like screaming, the burn of it choking up his throat as he swung his arm out, wand lighting up and blasting a huge ball of fire down the corridor in his rage. The prisoners screamed and yelled, the clanging sound of tin cups on bars filling the air and the rasping, maddening cackle of the crone in her cell.

Ignoring Rosier’s attempts to calm him down, Sebastian rounded on the scrawny hag, his eyes narrowing. She stared at him through the bars, her eyes lit with gleeful madness.

“Rapunzel, Rapunzel, let down your hair,” she crooned, wheezing with delight, her withered frame shaking with mirth. “All these pretty boys after the maiden fair.”

Sebastian stalked towards her, his wand up. The old bitch didn’t even flinch, her eyes pale and glowing with mischief as she eyed him. “Where is the girl from the cell opposite?” He demanded.

Her toothless grin was hideous, and his fingers flexed on his wand, his rage searing through his blood. MC had been within his grasp, and now she had been plucked out of thin air. Gone.

“Tell me!” He yelled. “Where did she go?”

“Bloody hell, mate, easy,” Rosier said, stepping up beside him. “How is she going to know? She’s fucking insane. Look at her.”

The hag tittered, her gnarled fingers clutching excitedly at her bars. “Every maiden fair must have a prince to rescue her,” she rambled. She began to sway, her smile almost idiotic. “But, princes and men can be fickle. He left her, made her scream like he’d torn her heart asunder.”

“What does that mean?” Sebastian demanded, his breaths now shuddering into his lungs. “Who left her?”

She went quiet, her eyes sly as she peered through the bars, her mouth curving into a wicked grin. “This one is jealous. Perhaps he is the villain here. He wants her for himself, but the prince came and took her away.”

Prewett’s name written in the book flashed up behind Sebastian’s eyes. Along with the memory from the pensieve and the sound of Prewett’s name on MC’s lips with that desperate look in her sunken gaze. Teeth clenching so tight it hurt, Sebastian’s fury seemed to flicker in front of his eyes. The very thought of Leander Prewett whisking MC away from under his nose like a knight on a white horse made his blood boil. That wasn’t how things were meant to be.

Why would he take MC out of here? It didn't make sense.

This pathetic witch and her fairy tale taunts were too much, his jealous temper flaring in a white, hot spark that fizzed down his arm as he thrust his wand towards her. Her eyes screamed of madness, and it curdled his blood, the need to expel the horror made the curse burst from his lips.

“Crucio!”

Her howls of pain filled his ears, her skeletal face grotesque as she reeled back from the door, clattering to the floor like a bag of bones as red sparks flickered in the darkness. He waited for the satisfaction to come, but it didn't. The sight of the wretch bucking and screaming did nothing to ease his horror or his fury. Inflicting agony on this pathetic creature wouldn't bring MC back here, and yet he held the curse on her, trying to syphon out his pain.

Those he loved kept being stolen from him, and he wasn't sure how many more times he could take it.

“Bloody hell!” Rosier grabbed him, trying to pull Sebastian’s wand arm back. “What are you doing?”

Sebastian had lost sense of what was going on around him, his fury so thick and hot that he shoved Rosier back, slamming his hand against cold iron with a scream of rage. “Who took her? Where is MC?”

Gasping and drooling, the old crone trembled and clawed at the stone floor, her eyes rolling as she made guttural moans of pain despite the curse no longer holding her. Sebastian’s lip was curled in disgust, his eyes blazing whilst his heart seemed to squeeze behind his ribs. It felt like it had been drained bloodless. How could MC not be in her cell? How could she have left this place without him knowing about it?

A cold thought entered his head, wiping out his fury in an instant, and he stilled, eyes horror struck as he glanced back at MC’s cell.

Was she dead?

Immediate denial slammed through him, but he bent forward, unable to draw breath as the possibility refused to be quieted. He winced as his knees hit the hard stone, all colour draining from his face as he shook his head. Desperate now, he grabbed the bars of the hag’s door, his breathing shallow.

“Did she walk out of here?” He asked, his voice switching to pleading now. “Please, tell me she walked out. She can’t be…no. She isn’t dead. I would know.”

His hand fumbled into his pocket, fingers caressing over the bloodstone amulet, seeking reassurance. Surely, if MC were to be dead, the stone would cease to hold true to the pact. It would shatter into pieces, no longer useful or functional. Much like his heart if he ever lost her.

The hag turned her head, her bloodshot eyes fixing on him with a stare that made him feel even colder, goosebumps shivering along his arms and up his neck. Her mouth worked as she tried to speak, her chin slick with drool and blood where she had smashed her face when she fell. To Sebastian’s horror, she began to laugh. A rasping, gurgling chuckle that escalated into screeching howls of mad cackling, her head thrown back as she clutched at her wasted midriff.

Strong hands gripped him under his arms, hefting him upwards. “For fuck sake, Sallow. Get up!” Rosier berated, pulling Sebastian up to his feet. “We’ve got to run. Now!”

Recoiling from the mad wretch in her cell, Sebastian forced himself to look up, his eyes widening at the gathered mass of Dementors circling above them. “Shit,” he muttered.

“Come on,” Rosier said, pulling on his arm, his wand raised upwards. “Run, for Merlin’s sake!”

They ran, boots thudding on the stone as the other cells passed by in a blur, their breaths beginning to mist from the spreading ice of the Dementors presence. Wraiths began to swoop downwards, and the terrifying rattle of their breathing sounded loud in their ears. Sebastian saw the door to the Auror’s chambers and grabbed Rosier by the arm, hauling him towards it. He felt the brush of tattered robes ghost near his ear, and he ducked, turning swiftly on the spot and jabbing his wand upwards.

With a fierce glare on his face, he allowed his mind to fill with memories of better days, soft dreamy images of his friends at school, Anne running through the fields in Feldcroft with her hair wild about her rosy cheeks. He thought of nights secreted away in the Undercroft with a good book and even better company, summers with his parents sailing on the lochs, and the addictive taste of kisses with the girl who had stolen his soul at the sweet age of sixteen.

Better times, happier times, before the darkness had come to claim him.

“Expecto Patronum!”

The spell burst from his wand with such force he had to clamp two hands around it to hold it steady, the brilliant swell of white light filling the corridor and pressing the Dementors back. As the black wraiths spiralled upwards and away, chased by the white phantom of a leaping fox, Sebastian began to step backwards into the doorway. Rosier watched his Patronus charm with a look of awe on his face, the light of the magic reflecting in his blue eyes.

Slamming the door of the reception chamber open, Sebastian came to a stop before the long counter, bracing his hands against it whilst he caught his breath. Rosier gasped beside him, shaking his head as he planted his hands on his thighs.

“Get us out of here,” he panted. “I am done.”

Sebastian nodded, his gaze catching on the wooden boards hung on the wall opposite him, all the prisoner numbers and their images on display. Eyes moving swiftly, he came to where MC’s prisoner board should have been in the order of cell numbers, and his stomach turned to lead. The board was missing. A blank space with just an iron peg jutting from the stone. She really was gone.

Dragging the heavy signing-in book towards him, he looked at the last two entries for her prisoner number. Harrington and Prewett, and then Prewett again yesterday. If anyone knew where she was, it was going to be Leander. His eyes narrowed in thought. It was time to have a little chat with Andrew Larson. He needed to get to Leander and fast.

Taking hold of Rosier’s arm, he nodded and then Disapparated them out, his feet landing on the wooden floorboards of the small room in the Black Rose that he shared with Rosier. With a flick of his wand, he lit the lamp, pushing back the darkness, craving some warmth and normality after the dark oppression of the prison. Slumping in relief and defeat, Sebastian sat down hard on the edge of the bed, his head in his hands. How had it gone so horribly wrong?

Rookwood was going to be furious. They had risked their necks going into that prison, and they had come out empty-handed. Solomon had always said he would amount to nothing, and no doubt would side with Ominis and Anne over his choice of companions lately, but to fuck up at something like this. Solomon would be laughing from his grave, no doubt.

“I always knew you would end up a failure, boy.”

Shuddering at the darker memories of his childhood struggles, Sebastian shoved them away, his insecurities starting to eat into him. His fury now dissipated, Sebastian felt the ball of grief in his chest swell, and he swallowed through it, rubbing his face at the loss of MC all over again.

“What the fuck was that all about back there, Seb?” Rosier asked, still getting his breath back. “You cast Crucio on that crone, and for what? She was crazy, talking about a load of rubbish. Why get so mad?”

Sebastian glanced up at Rosier, once again lamenting his need to keep the man at arms length. When people knew too much, they became a liability, and he rather liked Leo. Losing his temper back at the prison had revealed his hand, and he mulled over his words as he looked up at his camp mate.

“It was fucked up,” he admitted, shaking his head. “I will be lucky if Rookwood doesn't torture my own arse the same way for failing.”

Rosier studied him, slowly taking a seat on the twin bed opposite Sebastian, drumming his fingers on the faded bedspread.

“This girl, this MC. Just what, exactly, does she mean to you, Seb?” He asked, drawing his lower lip into his mouth thoughtfully. “You lost your shit when you realised she was gone, and when you mentioned her being dead, you were as white as a sheet. How would you know if she was dead? What's going on? There's more to this, isn't there?”

Sebastian pressed his fingers to his lips, eyeing Rosier with a sinking realisation that he had definitely revealed too much. He had managed to deflect his questions in the Leaky Cauldron, but Rosier was as smart as a whip, and Sebastian wouldn't be able to fool him for long. With a sigh, he let his hands drop between his thighs, his expression one of defeated exhaustion as he looked at Rosier. He was tired, so very tired of feeling alone.

“She means something to me,” he confessed. “I thought I was going to get her back tonight, and yet her cell was empty. After four long years of waiting, I feel like I just lost her all over again.”

Rosier closed his eyes and nodded, glancing down at his booted feet for a moment before speaking. “Does Rookwood know?”

“He probably suspects,” Sebastian admitted. “I've never openly talked about it, only that I know her.”

“And Lulu?” Rosier lifted his gaze to Sebastian, his eyebrows lifted in enquiry about the beautiful witch.

Sebastian groaned and shook his head. “She hasn't heard a thing from me about MC, so if she knows anything, it's whatever her father has told her.”

“Merlin’s beard, Seb. You walk a tight line, don't you?” Rosier smirked. “I've always had the feeling you've got deep secrets. But, I never realised just how close to the edge you walked with Rookwood. Withholding information, fucking his daughter on the sly…are you trying to get yourself killed?”

Sebastian matched Rosier’s smirk and shrugged. “What's life without a little adventure?”

“You're a slippery bastard, Sallow,” Rosier huffed, shaking his head. He pushed his fingers through his blonde hair and smiled. “I won't say anything about your prisoner girl. I have to say, though, I'm rather looking forward to meeting her. All this excitement surrounding her, she sounds like fun.”

Sebastian narrowed his eyes. “You'll be keeping your hands to yourself, Rosier,” he warned. “Not only do I know where they've been, it would be a shame to hex them. They are rather useful in a scrap.”

Rosier laughed, falling back onto his bed and holding his hands up. “I swear to all gods known to man, I won't make a play for her.”

“Then I guess we can remain friends,” Sebastian smirked, laying back on his own bed, staring up at the cracked ceiling.

A quiet settled over the room as both men processed the last hour or so, shadows of darker memories trying to creep into Sebastian’s thoughts, the echo of the old crones screams pressing on his conscience.

“MC means that much to you, and yet wasn't she serving time for doing your uncle in?” Rosier asked, turning to look at him.

Sebastian worried at his lower lip, keeping his gaze fixed upwards as he thought about Solomon and his cruel mouth, his swinging fists, and unforgiving eyes.

“My uncle was a mean bastard,” Sebastian said flatly. “MC was the only one who really understood.”

She had understood, and she remained at his side. She had bled for him, lied for him, and she had spent four years in that chilling nightmare of a place for him. Seeing the reality of Azkaban and remembering the image of her in that pensieve memory, the leaden ball in his chest that held his guilt and grief seemed to spread into every fibre of his being. Had he really done enough to help her? Her sacrifices were huge in comparison to his efforts to save her, and it weighed heavily on him, his fingers caressing the scar on his palm.

That old hag had called him a villain of MC's story, and Sebastian had retaliated by hitting her with the Cruciatus curse. A curse he had cast on MC in the Scriptorium in order to save himself. Maybe he was the villain of her life, and the thought was not a comfortable one. Next to him, Prewett would be a knight in shining armour, a prince coming to save the maiden fair.

“So, she killed him for you?” Rosier asked. The question hung heavy in the air, rather close to the bone in truth. She didn't take Solomon down, but she took the fall. She did it for him.

“I owe her everything, Leo,” Sebastian said with a sigh. “I've got to find her. Whatever it takes.”

“Then we find her,” Rosier said with finality. “What's the plan? Are we still going to track this Auror down that you knew?”

“That's top of the list,” Sebastian said, determination darkening his gaze. “Prewett knows where she is. His name was in that prison ledger, inked by his own fucking hand, and that nasty crone pretty much told us that MC left with a man. It was him. I know it was.”

“Then that's what we'll do. As long as Rookwood doesn't kill us first.”

Sebastian threw Rosier a smirk as he adjusted the lumpy pillow under his head. “I'd like to see him try. He talks a big game, but I reckon I could take him easily enough. He'd be too scared to get his gentleman's coat dirty in a real fight. That's why he has men like Carrow around to do the hard work.”

Rosier chuckled. “Do you reckon you could take Carrow?”

Sebastian’s grin split his face, his eyes gleaming at the thought. “You're looking at a duelling champion here, mate. I take great pleasure in bringing down bastards like Carrow. I took Prewett down a few times during the duelling matches we used to fight. He might have passed the Auror Program, but I could still take him on.”

The villain against the white knight. He had never wanted to be a villain. He wanted to be the one MC needed. He would rather be her white knight than bring any more darkness into her life. The shadows of their secrets probably made that impossible, so if he had to, he would take on the darker role. He knew that he would do whatever it took to get her back, especially now, no matter how dark.

For once, Sebastian wanted the villain to win the maiden fair, his chest aching at the absence of MC. They could rewrite the trope. Together. She should have been here with him tonight, beside him, where he could hold her close. Whether for her comfort or his own, he wasn't sure who needed it more.

Everything was so clean and bright that her eyes burned in their sockets, her trembling fingers shielding them from the glare of the real world. There were no screams here, no sobbing and wailing, no banging of cups against cold iron. There was just peaceful quietness, the soft sound of the breeze outside the window, and the distant chirp of a bird singing their joy. A fire crackled in the hearth, filling the room with warmth that felt like an inferno compared to the cold stone of Azkaban, and yet still MC shivered.

The room she stood in was charming. A picture-perfect image of a country cottage, with an inglenook fireplace and a bowl of fruit on the table. There was a high backed armchair near the fire, similar to those found in the common room, and a settee with deep cushions. Leander had called it a safe house, and she wondered how true that was. It did look soft and warm, inviting, and yet she stood there almost recoiling from it all.

She felt out of place, fractured, like she had wandered into someone else's dreams, and she did not belong. The soft rug beneath her filthy feet was a strange sensation, her toes curling experimentally into what felt like a guilty pleasure. Eyes brimming with tears from the overwhelming emotions swarming in her chest, MC looked up at the man standing next to her, his fingers slipping from her elbow where he had held her to Apparate.

How strange to look at Leander now and be wary of his proximity, and yet she also craved for him to be close, to stand right beside her so that he could hold her up should her wobbling knees buckle. It was dangerous to be so dependent on a person. She used to pride herself on being able to stand against whatever life threw at her, but her eyes were drawn to the tall Auror who had whisked her out of captivity, fearing that he might vanish at any moment and leave her lost and alone. Feeling this fragile had her slamming her walls up out of habit, but there were no Dementors here.

She was no longer in Azkaban. She was free.

The sight of Leander at her cell door after the way he had left her had set her pulse flying, hardly daring to believe he was really there after the way he had said goodbye to her, leaving her screaming for him at her cell door. When he had placed the release parchment into her hands, she had stared at the inked words, trying to make sense of this new turnaround to events. Her cold demand to Harrington in the questioning chamber had earned her freedom, her answers enough to revoke charges and reduce her sentence. The details of the probation seemed like child’s play compared to the horror one faced within the walls of that prison, and she had signed the papers immediately, ignoring the offer of twenty four hours to think about it. What was there to think about? Why stay another day in that hell when she could be free?

Now, though, now that she was out of the dark walls of oppressive cold, she felt the urge to seek out more darkness. It was as though the light would burn her, expose her, and leave her vulnerable. Would her mental walls of protection work out here? Who were her enemies now that she had escaped the malice of the Dementors?

How at ease Leander looked in these lovely surroundings, how neat his clothes, his pretty copper hair shining in the sunlight filtering through the window. Tall, with wide shoulders and slim hips, long graceful fingers, his pale skin sprinkled with dozens of freckles. He stood with confidence, sure of his place in the world, and she envied him. Where did she fit now?

“A Healer will be along shortly to take a look at you. Make sure you are alright,” he said with a soft smile. “There are clean clothes for you in the bedroom and a bath so that you can get cleaned up. The store cupboard is stocked so you won’t go hungry. Would you like me to make you something?”

MC stared at him, her arms wrapped around her midriff as she trembled on the pretty rug, feeling like the ground had been ripped out from under her feet. In the last 24 hours she had been strapped into a chair and questioned, and then he had left her, leaving her sobbing on her cell floor thinking she would be alone in the dark again, and then the appearance of the strange woman in the hooded cloak that had made her question her sanity.

Now, she was here, with him. He had pulled her out of that darkness, bringing her to an image of domestic bliss. His calmness grated on the frayed edges of her nerves. The choking maelstrom of emotions in her chest seemed to fizz through her veins, and she clenched her hands into fists, her face contorting into fury. The smile slipped from his lips as she glared at him.

“Give me my wand,” she hissed, her eyes glowing with fire. “I don’t care about the stocked cupboard and your bath, I just want my wand.”

Leander paled, licking his lips as he moved towards her, his hands out. “Your wand isn’t here. It’s still in secure lock up at the Ministry,” he said, shaking his head. “I’m sorry, MC.”

Finally, she moved, backing up away from him. Her eyes darted to the side as she sought an exit route, the over stimulation making her mind scream for quiet darkness. “Save your apologies,” she spat, her adrenaline making her shakes become more pronounced as she skirted the settee. His hands reached out again, and she flinched away. “Don’t touch me!”

If he touched her, she would crumble, and she was barely holding up the walls of her defences as it was. It was all so surreal, so outlandish and wrong. She needed her wand. She needed security.

“Okay, I’m sorry. I won’t touch you,” he said, holding his hands up. “But you need to calm down. You are safe here. I won’t let anything happen to you, and this house is warded so nobody can get in or out without permission.”

“So, I am just as much a prisoner here as in Azkaban?” She screeched, her eyes becoming wider, filled with desperate panic. The notion that this might be a trap entered her head, and now she couldn’t shake it, her heart hammering so fast she thought she might pass out. “I can’t do this. I need to get out.”

In her haste to escape, she bumped her leg against a side table, making the lamp there wobble precariously. She stumbled, catching herself on the arm of the settee. She pulsed with the need to flee, to run, to hide. Never would she have imagined that she would miss her cell, but right now, it was the only sanctuary she could think of, encased in the dark walls.

“Where are you going?” He asked, hurrying around the back of the settee to cut her off.

“Away from you,” she ground out, reaching to grab a cushion from the settee, the soft plushness of it a shock to her hands. The urge to squeeze it was almost like an ache, but she ignored it, heaving the cushion towards Leander’s head as she scrambled in the opposite direction to him.

Of course, he caught it, tossing it aside as he hurried after her. Her feet thudded across the wooden floor towards a door, her hands grabbing for the handle, but she was infuriatingly weak, and he caught up to her easily. To his credit, he didn’t touch her. He just slammed his hands against the door to prevent her from opening it, his body towering over hers and effectively pinning her against the wood.

“Please, don’t run from me,” he said, an edge to his voice. “I would never hurt you, MC. I meant it when I said that.”

Panting, her trembling frame pressed up against the door, she refused to look up at him. She kept her gaze fixed on her hands wrapped around the door handle. Her legs were shaking so badly she feared she would fall, her ears roared with her pulse and she felt the tell tale sting of tears behind her eyes.

“You lied,” she rasped. The walls around the cavern in her chest cracked, a whimper leaving her lips as she sagged against the door, her fingers bone white with her grip around the handle. “You left me.”

Leander’s hands slid slowly from the door, and he backed up, her eyes blinking up towards him and catching the look of devastation on his face, his soft lips parted. He shook his head in denial, his gaze one of sad regret. “You will never know how hard it was to walk away from you like that.”

MC squeezed her eyes shut, unable to bear that softness, that look on his face that sent tendrils of warmth around her ribs, seeking a way in. She couldn’t let him in, not again. He had walked away, and left her feeling so hollow. Her pride was a broken thing, her head was spinning with a thousand thoughts, and there was still too much light in the room.

Sucking in a shuddering breath, she twisted the door handle and pulled the door open to reveal the well stocked food larder. The irony was not lost on her as she stared at tins of food, a basket of bread sat on a shelf, and herbs were hanging from hooks along the far wall. She huffed a laugh of disbelief at the sight, a cracked chuckle that quickly shifted into tears that scalded her cheeks as they leaked from her eyes.

“MC…”

“I don’t know how to do this,” she sobbed, bringing her hands to her face.

Gentle hands on her shoulders had her turning on the spot, the firmness of his chest pressed against her cheek as his arms enveloped her, holding her in an embrace that dissolved the rest of her defences. Her fingers curled into his waistcoat, her tears leaking into the snowy whiteness of his shirt as she breathed in his scent, something that was becoming so familiar to her.

“You won’t be doing this alone,” he assured her, his hands sliding up the length of her spine until he was cupping the back of her head. “I’m your probation Auror, remember? And I think we both know that this has become more than just a job to me, MC. I’m not going to let anything happen to you.”

The ancient power that slumbered in her veins meant that she didn’t really need anyone to protect her. If anything, she was more dangerous than the worst of the Ashwinders once she had a wand in her hand. But, for now, she let Leander hold her and tell her that she would be safe. He took her hand and led her to another door, opening it to reveal a bedroom beyond. He paused in the doorway and nodded for her to go in.

“I’ll let you get yourself sorted out,” he said, his hand lingering on hers before he stepped back. “I’ll be right out here if you need anything. Alright?”

Backing into the room, she stared up at him. The risks he had taken, the kindness he had shown, it was more than any other Auror would have done for her. It was true. This was more than just another assigned job for him. Again, she was reminded of how dangerous it was to become close to him. How addictive his warmth was becoming, and whilst craving just that, she was also wary of it.

As the door clicked shut, her hands and forehead pressed against it, a stifled moan of grief tried to escape her lips. She didn’t even know what she was grieving for, but she felt so empty, so heavy and yet faded, like she would drift away into nothing.

Turning, she gazed around a bedroom, just as cosy and warm as the main room. There was a double bed made up with white sheets and thick blankets, and a vase of flowers sat on the bedside table beside a stack of books. Light bathed the space through a window that looked out across fields, the gentle roll of hills in the distance. She had no idea where she was. She could be anywhere.

Gasping in her breaths, she hurried to the window and gripped the floral curtains, yanking them closed to block out the light. The room darkened, but it wasn’t enough. Tight panic gripped her chest again, and she dived for a shadowed corner beside a wardrobe, drawing up her knees and wrapping her arms tightly around her legs. Shivering and gasping, she pressed her forehead to her knees and bit back her scream, tears flooding her eyes.

Maybe she wasn’t as free as she first thought. The darkness still held her in its grip, and Leander could only do so much to hold her shadows at bay.

….*....

Stomach hollow with hunger, and her eyes tight and raw from tears, MC sat on the seat before the dressing table and stared at her reflection. The girl who stared back was a stranger. In the dim light of the room, her pale skin looked ghostly, drawn tight over the jut of her bones. Her hair was long and lifeless, but it was her eyes that chilled her the most. She recognised them as her own, but the haunted darkness that dwelled in them spoke of loneliness and loss. The girl she once knew was long gone.

She looked down at her hands, her fingers so pink and clean, the skin puckered like dried fruit from soaking in warm bath water for so long. It had taken three baths to get her clean. The first left the water so black she'd climbed out almost straight away. By the third, she had just sunk under the warmth of the rose scented water, waiting for the comforting feeling to seep into her bones, but it didn't.

After the fire of her tantrum earlier, she now felt numb. She had cried until her chest had hurt, rocking back and forth, her fingers tracing constantly over the scar on her palm. At last, her memories could flood her mind, no longer at risk from being sucked away by the Dementors kiss. Her longing to look upon Sebastian one more time was joined by the fear that he wouldn't even know her, that he had moved on with his life and she was just some girl he used to know.

There was no one else in the world to wait for her. She had no family, and she was sure her friends from Hogwarts would want nothing to do with a murderer. Sebastian was the only one who knew her truth. Closing her eyes, she tried to picture him, the boy she knew.

Sighing softly, she shook her head and looked into the mirror again. No longer a child, she was a woman, and Sebastian would be a man. No doubt he looked different now, perhaps taller and stronger, like Leander. She imagined he was just as handsome, though. Four years was a long time, and she wondered if he had found love with someone new.

Could she blame him if he had? The years stolen from them stretched out like a lifetime. Surely, he would be a different person now, just as she didn’t recognise the girl staring back at her in the looking glass.

Pushing the thought aside before she began to cry again, she stood, smoothing her hands down the front of the pale blue blouse she had chosen from the wardrobe. She couldn't deny the simple pleasure of clean clothes, although she had left the corset where she had found it and chose trousers instead of a skirt. She'd never been one for airs and graces, and she wasn't about to start now.

Moving towards the door, she pressed her ear against it, her brow furrowing slightly at the soft sound of voices coming from the main room on the other side. Slowly, she turned the handle and opened the door, peering out.

At the table sat Leander, a teapot and cups laid out before him, and in a chair adjacent to him sat a beautiful, dark-haired woman. MC’s eyes narrowed as she studied this woman, recognising her as the Auror from Leander’s memory in the pensieve. She had suggested that Leander make her talk by implying that Sebastian was in a relationship with Rookwood’s daughter.

Her mouth tightened with instant dislike. She watched as they talked together, the woman reaching out to touch her hand to Leander’s arm. His cheeks flushed pink, his gaze rather bashful as this simpering bitch fluttered her dark lashes at him. MC’s stomach coiled tightly and she swung the door open wider, stepping out into the room to reveal herself. Leander glanced up, his eyes widening as they swept over her.

“MC…wow…you look…Do you feel better?” He stuttered, getting to his feet. He reached for another cup and placed it before the empty chair on his other side. “Let me pour you some tea. Come, join us. I would like you to meet my colleague, Odessa McKinnon. She will be taking some of the watches here with you, starting with later on this evening.”

MC moved closer as Leander poured tea from the pot, slipping into the chair that Leander hurried to hold out for her whilst keeping her suspicious gaze on McKinnon. Leander tucked her chair in, his fingers grazing her shoulder as he moved to return to his own chair. Cleaner than she had been in years, and feeling slightly more human now that she was dressed in proper clothes, MC felt her spine stiffen as McKinnon gave her the once over.

“It’s lovely to finally meet you, MC,” she purred, one beautifully shaped eyebrow arching slightly as she lifted her tea cup. “I have heard so much about you, all your notorious deeds and wonderful magic. I have to admit, I have been rather intrigued.”

“You’re here to watch me tonight?” MC asked, her voice flat calm. She turned the saucer holding her teacup on the table top, relieved that her fingers did not tremble as she did so, her eyes cold and blank as she stared at the smug woman. “Aren’t you concerned that I might try to kill you?”

Leander hissed air through his teeth in a gasp. McKinnon didn’t move a muscle, but there was a subtle flare in her eyes as she put down her cup. “Out of prison a mere few hours and you’re already risking being thrown back inside,” she tutted. “I didn’t take you for a fool, MC.”

“But you take me for a murderer, correct? I have previous experience in that department. The man whom I thought to be Rookwood disappeared into a cloud of ash by my hands. They would have a hard time proving I did anything to you without a body as evidence,” MC said coolly. Her eyes glittered with cold malice as she lifted her cup and took a sip, the hot liquid washing over her tongue and making it tingle, the flavour blooming inside her mouth after years of tepid water.

Leander rubbed his hand against the back of his neck, his eyes disapproving as he glanced her way, but she only smiled as she returned her cup to its saucer. McKinnon flicked an uneasy frown in Leander's direction and shifted in her chair. “You haven’t tried to hurt Prewett, so your heart can’t be that cold, love,” she said, tilting her head. “If you are trying to scare me, it won’t work. I’ve seen much nastier dark wizards than you.”

“I shall take that as a challenge, then,” MC said with a smirk. She slid her eyes towards a rather awkward looking Leander, and her gaze softened. “Besides, why would I want to hurt Leander? I rather like him. You, on the other hand...”

MC's eyes hardened again on those last words, the instant dislike she had for this Auror setting her teeth on edge. She would need to ensure that her defences were on full alert around this one, there was a gleam in her eyes that MC did not like, a smug assurance that took some of the edge off her beauty. If only she could have her wand.

McKinnon shifted in her seat again, perhaps not as smug as she was trying to portray as she leant her elbow on the table top, her hand supporting her chin. “Luckily, I enjoy a challenge, too,” she said, her eyes becoming devious slits. “Speaking of challenges. Your old flame, Sebastian Sallow, is rather handy with a wand, isn’t he? He put up quite the fight when I tracked him down in Glasgow. Quite the handsome devil, too. I can see why you liked him.”

MC stiffened, her fingers twitching to grip against the table top at the mention of Sebastian’s name. McKinnon’s smile was far too arrogant, too knowing.

“Rookwood’s daughter seems to think so as well. Quite the striking pair they make when they fight,” McKinnon continued.

Leander sighed and shook his head. “Perhaps we should keep the conversation to more relevant topics, ladies,” he suggested.

“How is Sebastian not relevant?” McKinnon asked, shifting her gaze to Leander. “He is in deep with Rookwood, and MC needs to be prepared.”

Trying to keep her temper was difficult considering the violent swing of her emotions today, but MC did her best to sit still and keep her mouth clamped tightly shut. She knew what this bitch was doing. She was trying to bait her, to wind her up and make her show her hand, and MC didn’t want to give her the satisfaction of succeeding. This is what McKinnon had suggested Leander do to her, her snide comments revealed in Leander's pensieve memory, but he hadn’t done it.

Her hands came together, her fingers touching against the scar on her palm, a reminder that Sebastian would never turn his back on her. He couldn’t. Just like she could never turn her back on him. As difficult as it was to think of him being with Rookwood’s daughter, if that is what he wanted, then what could she do? The very thought of him touching another woman made her stomach twist, sadness engulfing the dark space in her chest at the loss of what could have been, but she would never allow McKinnon the satisfaction of knowing that. No matter how harshly it scraped along her deepest fears.

“I am well aware of how Sebastian fights. We used to train together,” MC said, shrugging her shoulders as if she was not concerned. “When the time comes for me to track down the Ashwinders, I can’t see it being a problem. Like you said, I have such wonderful magic available at my fingertips, and I’m not afraid to use it.”

“Now, that is a showdown I would pay good galleons to see,” McKinnon said. Her sly smirk swung towards Leander. “Perhaps the idea of sending her into the pits is a good one, after all.”

“What pits?” MC asked, glancing between them.

McKinnon chuckled and got to her feet, taking her robe from the back of her chair to put on. Leander stood too, always the gentleman, stepping forward to help her with her robe. MC watched them both, noticing the flirty gleam in McKinnon's eyes as she smiled at Leander when she thanked him.

“I'm sure Prewett will fill you in on all the details regarding the pits,” she said, pulling on a pair of black leather gloves. Her smug smile lifted her lips. “I have some errands to run, so I shall say goodbye for now. I will return for my watch duty later.”

“I can't wait,” MC muttered, rolling her eyes.

Leander walked her towards the door that led outside, MC watching through narrowed eyes as McKinnon touched her hand to his arm again.

“I will see you later,” she said, leaning in a little, her voice low and intimate. “And I shall tell Harrington that you will meet him as suggested.”

Leander nodded, that delicate blush staining his cheeks again. “Thank you, Odessa.”

Watching the exchange, MC realised she hadn't given much thought to what Leander's personal life might be like. She had only seen him as the Auror in his visits, with glimpses of the boy she remembered from their short time together at school. For the first time, she wondered what he liked, the kind of books he read, or what his favourite food was.

Did he have a lover? Watching him with McKinnon, she didn't think they were that close, but perhaps the suggestion of something more being possible lingered in their glances and smiles. The idea was oddly repulsive, and MC's mouth tightened with disapproval as she sat back in the chair and folded her arms.

Leander returned to the table and began to gather up the teacups after McKinnon had left. MC watched him, her gaze following him as he took the cups to the sink under the window.

“What are the pits?” She asked.

He turned to face her, brushing his hands together. “There is an illegal duelling club that takes place in the new London underground train tunnels. Rookwood is involved, and his Ashwinders take part in fights for money.”

Her eyebrows shot up with interest. “So, it's like a bigger, more dangerous version of Crossed Wands?”

Leander huffed a laugh and came back to the table and picked up the teapot. “Definitely more dangerous. People die down there,” he said pointedly. He held up the teapot. “Would you like some more?”

MC nodded and slid her cup forward to be refilled. “That delightful colleague of yours suggested I would be sent to these illegal duelling fights. Why is that?”

Leander bit his lip. “That hasn't been agreed upon yet. We need to do some more investigating first before we even consider sending you down there. It could be a good way to infiltrate you into the gang.”

“Does Sebastian duel there?”

Leander slowly put down the teapot and placed his hands on the back of his chair. She could see the reluctance in his eyes, but she needed to know, almost holding her breath as she waited.

“I can't say for sure that he does, but it is likely he will be there,” he said. He met her eyes. “Would you be alright with that? I don't want to place you in situations that might be difficult.”

Whilst her pulse raced, MC once again maintained a cool approach, shrugging her shoulders as she picked up her tea. “I can handle myself. I wouldn't make a very good spy for you if I couldn't. I will be fine.”

Leander pulled back his chair and sat down facing her. He placed a hand on the table top near hers but didn't touch her.

“I meant it when I said I didn't want to hurt you, and that includes placing you in dangerous situations. I know you can handle yourself, but that doesn't mean I won't be concerned. Harrington and I are going to check these duelling pits out later and see what they are like,” he said. “McKinnon will be here while I am gone, and I will tell you what I can once I return. Nothing will be finalised until I speak with you first.”

It was so very hard to maintain that cold exterior when he looked at her like that, his eyes so open and earnest, but she kept her face still as she returned his gaze. She tried to imagine him in a highly dangerous situation, tried to picture the transition from soft hearted Lee to a fighting Auror, and it wasn't easy.

Her hand shifted on the table top, her little finger brushing up against the warmth of his hand.

“Be careful while you're gone,” she said quietly. Her lips twitched ever so slightly. “Don't leave me alone with that smug bitch for too long. I'd rather not risk being sent back to Azkaban, but I won't rule out the desire to slap her irritatingly perfect face.”

He looked down to where she was touching him, and she saw his throat work as he swallowed. “I will only be there a few hours, and then I will come back. I promise. Try and get some sleep. McKinnon isn't so bad once you get to know her. We trained together.”

MC stared into his eyes, the air feeling heavy between them. “She fancies you,” she murmured and watched as a deep flush coloured his freckled cheeks.

“We are just colleagues,” he assured her, touching his fingers to his tie to straighten it. “She is naturally flirtatious. She does it with everyone, not just me.”

“Would you like it to be just you she flirts with? The way she looked at you makes me think you are in with a chance there.”

“I’m not sure if that’s entirely appropriate,” he gulped.

Leander cleared his throat, his fingers now fiddling with his tie, rearranging it and ensuring it was tucked neatly into his waistcoat. His flush now darkened his neck, and his gaze skipped away from her as he stood.

MC felt a genuine smile twitch at her lips, seeing the awkward, flustered boy from their youth as he tried to calm his fluster. She reached out and took hold of his hand, her thumb sweeping over the softness of his palm.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to tease you, Lee,” she said gently before letting her gaze dip to their joined hands. It was surprising how just that brief and gentle contact could bring such comfort. Reluctantly, she let him go. “Besides, your personal life is none of my business. Forgive me.”

The look that they shared lingered, the moment feeling heavy and poised in the silence of the room. MC felt the hair rise on the back of her neck, a deep ache swelling within her to feel like she belonged somewhere, the black cavern in her chest warping with a loneliness that stole her breath.

“Let me fix you something to eat,” Leander said, breaking the strange tension in the room. “You must be hungry. I could make you a sandwich?”

MC blinked, nodding quickly as she compressed the confusing ache within her, masking it with her walls of cold stone. She was hungry. Although, when Leander placed down the plate onto the table before her, she stared at the cheese sandwich and wondered how she would ever be able to swallow it over the tightness in her throat.

The first bite filled her mouth with stinging surprise, all the texture and flavour so strange against her tongue as she chewed. It had been so long since she had eaten normal food, and as she took more mouthfuls, she began to chew faster. Her stomach gnawed with ravenous hunger, and she ate the entire sandwich, her belly rumbling and squeaking at the new contents she had thrown into it. Immediately, she felt very full, her hand rubbing over her stomach carefully as she groaned.

“It’s probably best to start with small meals until your stomach gets used to eating again,” Leander said, smiling at her like a proud parent across the table. “You will be eating roast dinners before you know it.”

“Thank you,” she said, meeting his gaze, and she didn’t just mean for the sandwich.

He nodded, a knock at the door breaking the moment before it could become loaded again like before. They both turned to look towards the door, and Leander stood. “Ah, that will be the Healer,” he said. “Perfect timing.”

As Leander went to open the door and greet the Healer, MC remained at the table, her belly full and her body feeling clean from head to toes. Although the future stretched out huge and uncertain before her, for the first time since her feet landed on the perfectly swept floors of this house, she thought maybe she could do this after all.

Sebastian

Keeping a lid on his own rage was increasingly difficult as those around him spoke with raised voices, the private room at the back of The Black Rose pub filled with Rookwood’s closest henchmen. Sebastian and Rosier stood near the wall, watching as all hell broke loose, each man having his own piece to say on what they thought the Ministry was up to.

“Since when is a prisoner released without some kind of announcement in the Daily Prophet,” Carrow said, his eyes narrow and suspicious. “Especially a high profile prisoner such as this girl. It was all over the front page when she was convicted and sent to Azkaban. I don’t like it.”

Rookwood sat at the head of the table rubbing his chin slowly, his face in deep thought, his eyes shifting towards Sebastian with a dark look. “This had better not be a trick, Sallow,” he said darkly. “You didn’t get her out and hide her somewhere, did you?”

Sebastian clenched his fists, his face darkening at the suggestion. Rosier tapped his fingers against his elbow, his blue eyes flashing with a warning to be careful.

“You can take the very memory from my head if you doubt me so much,” Sebastian offered, straightening his spine. “Believe me, I’m just as pissed off as you are. We risked our necks going into that place. If anyone is up to trickery, it’s that bitch, Black Dahlia.”

Rookwood hummed thoughtfully, his gaze sliding back to Carrow. “Any word from our little whisperer?”

“Not a thing,” Carrow said, his mouth tight.

Sebastian’s top lip curled with his disgust and fury. There was no love lost when it came to Black Dahlia where he was concerned, but his patience was wearing dangerously thin, his hand lingering near his wand in its holster. He folded his arms and leant against the wall, chewing at his lower lip in frustration, his head drifting into a darker place as he considered painful ways of making her talk.

At the table beside Rookwood sat his daughter, Luella, her blonde curls held up in a twist, loose strands breaking free to hang around her face. She was sitting quietly, taking in the words spoken by those around her, but her gaze kept drifting over towards Sebastian. Her blue eyes were lit with a familiar gleam as they passed over him, lingering on his mouth and wandering downwards over his body with a hunger that had once stirred him.

She had arrived yesterday, curious and eager to meet the escaped prisoner, but had walked into the angry fallout of MC being missing. Last night, Sebastian had dodged her questions, soaking his innards in shots of whiskey to try and drown out the deep ache in his chest. When her hands had wandered, her lips soft against his ear, he had been tempted, but eventually spurned her advances outside his bedroom door. His bleary gaze had wandered over her hair, her eyes, the shape of her mouth, and it was all wrong. She wasn’t MC.

Here, in the meeting room, he was careful to avoid holding her gaze for too long. He needed to keep his distance from her, his main focus now being the seeking out of Leander Prewett and tracking down MC.

He had managed to corner Larson this morning, coercing him into a side alley near Gringotts Bank, and he’d asked him about Prewett. Larson hadn’t changed much since school, but he had surprised Sebastian with a steely determination not to be pushed around. Sebastian had changed tactics swiftly, using his silver tongue to suggest that he just wanted to talk to Prewett, that he had information that could prove useful. He had sent the blonde Ravenclaw off with assurances that his message would be passed on.

Rookwood stood up, adjusting his long gentleman’s coat, his eyes softening briefly as he glanced Luella’s way. He cast his eyes around the room, his eyes lit with a devilish gleam. “Let’s not fret, ladies and gentlemen. We’ll get to the truth of it in due course,” he said, his gaze landing on Sebastian. “Sallow is already chasing a lead within the Ministry, and once Black Dahlia shows her face, her lips had better start moving. For now, let us enjoy some entertainment. There are fights to bet on in the pits, and whores to slake our lusts. I say we adjourn to the tunnels and start the night early.”

A rousing murmur of agreement went up around the room, and Rosier grinned beside Sebastian. “I’m up for that,” he said, pulling a packet of cigarettes out of his pocket and tucking one between his lips. He held the packet out to Sebastian, but he waved him off. “Are you coming, Sallow?”

Sebastian turned his gaze from Luella and considered Rosier’s question, his fingers caressing along the handle of his wand. “Actually, I could do with a damned good scrap,” he said thoughtfully, the burn of his frustration like an itch in his veins. “A few fast duels ought to satiate the hunger.”

“Or you could put Lulu out of her misery,” Rosier smirked, shaking his head. “Honestly, the eye fucking is becoming too obvious. I’m surprised Daddy Rookwood hasn’t picked up on it yet.”

Sebastian huffed and began to walk towards the door, following the others as they filed out of the room. Rosier joined him, and Sebastian leaned in to speak quietly. “I’m done with all that,” he muttered. “I’ve got bigger things to worry about. If you want to hit her up, go for it. Maybe she will leave me alone once you’ve got your hands on her.”

Rosier looked doubtful. “Lulu has always been picky with her men. She’s only got eyes for you, mate. But, you know me, I’ll give any ride a go.”

Sebastian’s mouth spread into a grin as he looked towards his friend, slinging an arm about his shoulders as they entered the bar of The Black Rose. “I do know you,” he said, ruffling Rosier’s dark, blonde hair. “And I appreciate your enthusiasm for life. Come on, let’s get down into those pits and inflict some damage. My wand is thirsty for some action.”

Leander

Despite it being the evening, the Auror office was just as busy, some at their desks whilst others were having meetings or gathering files for cases. Leander made his way through the desk cubicles, heading for his own to check if the file containing the gathered evidence for the duelling pits was there. He always liked to refresh his thoughts on the most recent information before heading out for field work. Knowledge was power, and going down into those tunnels was risky enough without knowing plenty of details.

His desk was as neat as he had left it, his files stored in a perfect pile in his tray. He flicked through them quickly, frowning slightly as he couldn’t find the one he was looking for. He glanced over at the untidy chaos of McKinnon’s desk and sighed, moving over to begin checking her scattered folders, but it wasn’t there either. Harrington’s desk turned up nothing, and so he headed towards the researcher's room in the hope it was there rather than being back in the archives.

The team of researchers that worked for the British Auror Office were methodical fact checkers, gathering and storing any evidence attained by Aurors and ensuring it was all filed correctly. They were also rather good at picking out patterns in evidence, and they were often an invaluable asset in solving cases. If Leander hadn’t managed to pass the tough Auror program, he had thought to become a researcher as a backup career. It was the pursuit of justice without the field work and fighting, all from the comfort of a desk inside the sanctuary of the Ministry.

As Leander walked down the hall towards the research offices, his head was filled with thoughts of MC. The knowledge that she was safely tucked away in the safe house, warm and comfortable, made some of the tension ease from his shoulders. Seeing her out of that dark and cold prison had brought a lump to his throat, especially when she had stepped out of the bedroom dressed in clean clothes, her hair soft about her face, her skin still slightly pink from her bath. He had been glad that McKinnon had been there to stop him from immediately going to her, his fingers aching to brush against the lines of her cheek, the pull of her stronger than ever despite his effort to hold back.

This case was so big, and she was a key part of it, he could not afford to mess this up. He had to be so careful, but one look at her big, haunted eyes was enough to make that soft part of himself that he hid so carefully behind his ribs, swell to a chest tightening bloom. It was a lesson in restraint to keep his hands to himself, to keep his thoughts on the job and not constantly on her. When she had brushed her finger up against his hand earlier, her lips uttering a soft plea for him to be careful whilst he was gone, it had taken all of his strength to behave like a gentleman.

Entering the research office, he cleared his throat and adjusted his tie, striding past the girl on the reception desk with a polite nod as he made his way towards Larson’s desk. If anyone ought to know where the file was, it would be him. Andrew was indeed at his desk despite the later hour, his head bent over a thick stack of parchment, his fingers pushed into the soft wave of his blonde hair as he supported himself on the desk.

“Good evening, Andrew,” he said, coming to a stop beside him. “That’s quite the stack of bedtime reading you have there.”

Andrew looked up, blinking slowly as he separated his thoughts from his reading material, his lips curving into a smile. “Good evening, Lee. How are you?”

Andrew turned in his chair, pushing the parchment away from him to give Leander his full attention. His facial features had clung to the softness he’d had as a boy, the gentleness still there in his brown eyes, combined with a bright intelligence that Leander had always appreciated. He had known Andrew for a long time and took pleasure in working with him here at the Ministry. He felt privileged to call him a friend.

“I’m well, thank you,” Leander said with a nod. “I was hoping you would still be here. I’m looking for the file on the underground duelling pit in London. I wanted to read up a bit before going down there to have a scout around.”

Andrew’s brow furrowed slightly. “You’re going down there? Has there been a new development on the Rookwood case?”

Leander gave a rueful twist of his lips. “You could say that, yes, although I am not at liberty to say much yet. You wouldn’t happen to know where it is, would you?”

Andrew bit his lip and glanced towards his pile of files on his desk, reaching across to pull one out and hold it up. “Actually, I have it right here,” he said, giving Leander a hesitant look. “I er…I swiped it from your desk earlier today while you were out. I wanted to read up on it myself.”

“Oh? Any particular reason?”

“Yes. Our old school buddy, Sebastian Sallow,” Andrew said with a sigh. He looked up at Leander, a worried gleam in his eyes. “Would you say that was a good reason?”

Leander frowned and reached for a nearby chair, dragging it closer so he could sit. “That depends. What makes you interested in Sallow all of a sudden?”

“He cornered me this morning in Diagon Alley,” Andrew said, rubbing his hand across his mouth, a slight blush staining his cheeks. Leander’s eyes bulged, his lips parting in surprise. “I won’t lie to you, Lee. I wondered what the bloody hell he was going to do. He had his wand out, and I was never all that great at the hand to hand spell casting. That was always your thing, and Sallow is like a coiled serpent with a wand in his hand.”

“What did he want?”

Andrew winced, his eyes becoming grave. “He wants you, mate. He was demanding to know where he could find you. He said he had information that might prove useful to you. I didn’t tell him anything, only that I would pass on the message.”

Leander swore under his breath and put his hands to his face, closing his eyes as old insecurities began to bubble up inside of him. He was twelve years old again, and Sallow was casting Glacius under his feet to make him slip on the stairs, his twin giggling behind him as she clung on to Gaunt’s arm.

It had always been silly pranks, and Leander had gotten his own back a few times with some help from Garreth, but Sebastian always liked to have the upper hand. He always had to be smarter, faster, his cocky smirk plastered over his handsome face. And now he was looking for him. It could only be about one thing. It had to be something to do with MC. Leander blew air through his lips and gripped his thighs, shaking his head. He wasn’t a scrawny twelve year old anymore. He was a graduated Auror, and he could hold his own.

“What else did he say?” Leander asked, licking his lips.

“He said you might catch him in the Black Rose,” Andrew said, frowning slightly. “That is a nefarious pub, make no mistake. I wouldn’t go in there unprepared, Lee.”

Leander nodded and pinched his lips thoughtfully. “He was spotted there recently by another Auror, so it’s no surprise to hear that’s where to find him. Leave it with me, Andrew. I’ll see if I can’t track him down and find out what he wants.”

“Just be careful, alright?” Andrew said, his expression grim. “It can’t be anything good.”

Leander nodded, a tight-lipped smile on his lips as he moved to stand. He touched a hand to Andrew’s shoulder as he said goodbye, leaving the office with the file in hand, fairly certain that he knew exactly what Sebastian wanted, but he wasn’t about to give it to him.

For all Sebastian knew, she was tucked away inside Azkaban, far out of his reach. That’s the way it needed to stay until she was strong enough to step out into the world again and take on the likes of the Ashwinders. If Sebastian was hoping to get information out of him in order to aid a prison break, then he was very much mistaken.

….*....

Leander met Harrington in Monument Street, London, the area reasonably quiet after the setting of the sun. The gas lamps had been lit, casting an eerie glow through the beginnings of a lingering mist that left a damp feeling on one’s clothing. The distant sound of carriages on the main road heading towards London Bridge could be heard as he walked alongside Harrington, past the colossal tower of a monument dedicated to all that was lost in the Great Fire of London in the 1600s, giving the road its name.

“The file said the entrance to the duelling pit was down in the underground tunnel just along from the platform,” Leander said, pulling his collar up a little higher against the chill on the back of his neck. Autumn was beginning to sink its teeth into the weather. “Hopefully the station will be quiet at this time of the evening.”

“Magical folk have been vanishing into the underbelly of London long before the Muggles started sending their fancy new trains down there,” Harrington said. “London has many secrets, and some of the chambers underneath her are ancient. We won’t have any trouble accessing the tunnels. It will be further along that we will have to be more careful. My snitch said there are enchantments in place to avoid the duelling pits being discovered.”

“Nothing a cheeky Revelio won’t show us, I’m sure,” Leander said with a small smile.

They turned into King William Street and headed for the entrance to the Metropolitan Underground railway station of the same name, slipping through the doors in a swirl of mist and began to descend the spiralling iron stairwell into the depths.

“How is our new house guest faring?” Harrington asked as they reached the bottom, the air musty and damp, the only light coming from flickering lamps spaced out along the tiny platform.

“She is looking a lot better after a bath and something to eat, and the Healer said she was physically well despite everything. She has a box full of potions and elixirs to take to build her back to strength,” Leander said, scanning the station’s platform to find it empty. A crease appeared between his brows as he thought of MC. “I’m not so sure about her mental state. That might take a bit more work.”

“All we need her to do is give us enough to bring Rookwood to his knees,” Harrington said, his face grim. “We need to lure the spider out of his cave, and then we can shred his little web of criminals. That’s the main goal here.”

Leander bit his lip against the thoughts sliding across his mind. Harrington wasn’t wrong. That was the goal, but MC deserved more than that. At least, he thought so.

They jumped down off the platform onto the tracks below, the circular maw of the tunnel's mouth gaping before them. A stale breeze was coming from it, the tracks disappearing off into the blackness as though leading them down into the hells. Harrington slipped out his wand and stepped into the tunnel, his Lumos spell guiding their way until they came to the hidden door in the brick wall, marked by runes.

“Be on your guard, Prewett,” Harrington muttered. “We could end up running into anyone down here.”

An iron ladder led them down into a tunnel that had a swift running stream bubbling along the bottom of it, a stone pathway following the gushing water into further darkness. They walked for some time, listening for the sound of boot steps, Harrington casting Revelio at intervals until they came across a charmed barrier invisible to the naked eye. Leander tugged at his collar, feeling the oppressive weight of an entire city above his head as Harrington cleared the barrier, and they continued on.

Eventually, they began to hear the distorted echo of raised voices coming along the tunnel, the anticipation building in Leander’s chest as they drew nearer. Keeping to the shadows, they moved towards the light, the flicker and flash of spells reflecting off the walls in shades of red and white.

Leander wasn't sure what he had been expecting of the pit, the name itself bringing forth images of dark, filthy holes with those duelling battling it out amongst a rabble of a crowd. The crowd part was mostly true. However, they were spaced around an arena that made Leander think of Roman gladiator fighting rings. The staggered levels of the spectators gave them an excellent view into an oval shaped arena with a stone floor covered in wood shavings.

The chamber itself was not dark, nor filthy, the curved arches in the ceiling giving it a classical building feel, the stone work almost attractive, and around the walls were fire sconces that lit up the space with a golden glow. As for the gathered crowd, there was a mixed bunch of witches and wizards, from the poor to the rich. A careful glance around the space revealed that these duels attracted a variety of people, and a lot of them, too.

The place was heaving, the air thick with excitement and the smokey scent of spell casting, the chill of the tunnels exchanged for the warmth of many bodies in close proximity.

“Merlin’s beard, look at this lot,” Harrington said, his eyes casting an experienced eye over the crowd. His gaze narrowed as he looked in the direction of what could only be described as a spectators box. “Well, well, who do we have here?”

There in the box sat Marvolo Gaunt, Amos Carrow, Luella Rookwood, and what looked suspiciously like one of the Minister of Magic’s official aides. No wonder these pits were allowed to continue if they had high up Ministry workers in their audience.

“No sign of Rookwood,” Leander muttered near Harrington’s ear. “What about Sallow? I can't see him either.”

“Try looking lower down in the gutter where he belongs,” Harrington sneered.

Leander looked downwards into the fighting arena itself, and his eyes widened. There he was. Sebastian Sallow. The sleeves were rolled up on his black shirt, the collar open, his freckled skin glistening with sweat, and his wild mop of hair damp at his temples. Flushed and breathing hard, he was duelling against a bare chested man with a skinhead, his face set with intense concentration.

Andrew had compared him to a coiled serpent when he held a wand, and Leander could see that Sebastian still held a masterful prowess when it came to fighting. He moved with lithe skill, the barest flick of his wrist wielding quick spell work that his opponent could barely keep up with. He was no longer a scrawny teenager, his body more thickset, the muscle in his forearm defined. He looked strong, his neck solid and his chest broad, and yet he moved with the sharpness and cunning of a fox.

The bald man was flagging, and Sebastian showed no mercy as he backed him up against the wooden railing at the edge of the fight floor, the crowd leaning forward to jeer and shout. Sebastian wielded with a flourish, the Diffindo cutting through the other man's flesh with horrifying precision, the scarlet of his blood seeping from his wounds at a frightening pace. The crowd gasped and then cheered as he collapsed to the floor, a duelling referee stepping into the oval to lift Sebastian’s arm into the air as the victor.

“Savages, the lot of them,” Harrington hissed, his gaze narrowed in disgust. “It's a shame we don't have any backup. We could raid this circus and nab ourselves a pretty collection of scumbags here.”

Looking at the way the crowd was baying for blood, the punters getting their bet winnings as Carrow and Gaunt looked on with smug looks on their cold faces, Leander felt his stomach twist. The thought of bringing MC here made him feel nauseated, the danger and savageness making him think that this was not the best way forward. He wished he could keep her inside the safe house forever, no matter how unrealistic that sounded.

“Come on, I've seen enough,” Harrington said, nudging Leander’s arm. “Let's get out of here before we are spotted.”

Leander hesitated, watching as Luella Rookwood smiled down at Sebastian, clapping her hands. The way she looked at Sallow certainly gave some credence to McKinnon’s suggestion that there was something between the two. Clenching his hands into fists, Leander dragged his eyes away and began to make his way back through the crowd, heading for the tunnel they entered through.

A shout went up to his left, and then a bloom of purple sparks erupted into the air above their heads. There was a millisecond of utter silence before utter chaos erupted in the chamber. The crowd surged as people made a run for the tunnels, some falling and becoming trampled underfoot, the snap and whirl of Apparition coming from all sides as those who were able to make a quick exit.

Leander had his wand in hand, stumbling and shoving with the tide of people as he tried to work out what was happening. Harrington was lost in the chaos, and Leander swallowed down the flutter of panic that erupted in his chest, and he pulled on his Auror training. Maintaining a manner of calm, he fought his way through to the edge of the chamber, keeping a wary eye on everyone.

A glance to the spectator box revealed it to be empty, Carrow and Gaunt making a swift exit. He spotted Luella hurrying down the steps towards the pit floor, her mouth shouting something that looked suspiciously like Sebastian’s name, but he couldn't be sure over the noise and chaos. He needed to find Harrington and get out of here.

Pushing back through the crowd, he looked for signs of his partner, having to block spells that were being cast across the heads of people as scrapping began to break out. Leander fired off a few spells of his own, diving behind a stack of storage crates at the entrance of a rather large tunnel to avoid a blasting curse.

As the crowd thinned, Leander moved back towards the chamber, scanning the space for Harrington. The scrape of boots on stone behind him made him spin about, his wand held out ready, his heart leaping madly as his gaze met with a pair of blazing, brown eyes.

Sebastian stood a fair few paces before him, his wand held up towards Leander, a gleam in his gaze that could almost be described as feral satisfaction. Sebastian took a slow step to the right, and Leander counter stepped, keeping his wand arm aimed, steady, and true.

Despite the heightened danger of the situation, Leander felt as though they could be sixteen again, preparing to face off in a round of Crossed Wands. Time slipped into insignificance as he stared Sebastian down. Sixteen or twenty-one, it would appear they were fated to always be rivals.

“I should have known to find you here, Sallow,” he said, his voice surprisingly steady despite the mad rush of his pulse. “It's all a little predictable, though, isn't it? Another unsanctioned duelling club. I thought you might have outgrown all that by now.”

Sebastian smirked, his feet creeping closer. Leander maintained a decent distance, his eyes quick and wary as they manoeuvred in the entrance of the tunnel.

“You're not so unpredictable yourself, Prewett. Here you are, coming to wreck all the fun with rules and self-righteousness,” Sebastian said, shaking his head slowly. “I guess some things just don't change.”

A flick of his wrist and a quick cast hit the stone in front of Leander’s boot. The slightest flinch flickered across his face, but he didn't move. Sebastian’s eyebrows went up a notch.

“How about it, Prewett? Do you fancy a round for old times' sake?”

“It will only end with your wrists in chains and a cell, Sallow,” Leander said, his face hardening. “I hear Azkaban is rather cruel this time of year. I guess you will fit right in.”

Sebastian’s eyes narrowed, and his mouth tightened. “You would know,” he hissed, striking hard and fast.

Leander threw up a Protego shield and cast back, both of them assuming duelling stances and falling into a furious back and forth of spells. Sebastian was fierce despite having only just fought in the ring, but Leander was no longer a schoolboy either, his body fit and strong from gruelling training and hours of practice. He gave it everything and even began to push Sebastian further back into the tunnel, shadows darkening their movements and making the spells light up their faces with an eerie glow.

Sebastian’s comment toyed at the back of Leander’s thoughts as they fired spells into the dark. What did he mean? Blocking another swift curse, he used one of Sebastian’s old tricks against him and cast Glacius across the floor. Sebastian’s boots slid on the ice, and he swore viciously as he slammed into the tunnel wall, his wand clattering to the ground.

Leander was on him instantly, grabbing the front of his shirt, breathing hard as he shoved him against the wall. “I hear you've been looking for me, Sallow. What could you possibly have to say that I would find interesting?”

Sebastian growled and tried to shove back, kicking out with his legs in frustration. They struggled, Sebastian swinging a fist towards his face and catching him hard above his eye. Leander grunted at the impact, blinking in shock as his mind spun, but he shook it off and managed to grab Sebastian's wrist and slam him back against the wall. He pinned his arm up to block any more swings, his other hand fisting into his shirt.

As Sebastian’s hand splayed open at the impact against the brick, Leander caught sight of a long, thin red scar slashed across his palm, a complete match to the one MC had across hers. Leander stared at it, his cheeks draining of colour as he remembered the blood pact between her and Sallow.

Sebastian’s head twisted, looking to see what Leander was staring at, his gaze narrowing as he studied Leander's face carefully.

“What's got you all spooked?” He asked and wiggled the fingers on his left hand, his breath panting through his lips. “It's only a scar.”

Leander met his eyes, his grip tightening on the infuriating man against the wall. “I know exactly what it is,” he hissed.

Sebastian’s smugness faltered fleetingly, his throat working as he swallowed. A cold, determined look entered his gaze, and his voice came through gritted teeth.

“Where is she, Prewett?”

Leander stilled, his eyes locked in a battle of wills with his old rival, a dull throb beginning around his eye where Sebastian had punched him. “Who?”

“Don't fuck with me,” Sebastian said, trying to jerk his arms free, but Leander pushed harder against him. “You know who I'm talking about. Where is she?”

The first cold trickle of fear slid down Leander’s spine at the demand, the suggestion that Sebastian knew she had been released. Leander stuck to the lie. “She is in Azkaban. You know that.”

Sebastian huffed a cold, humourless laugh. “You and I both know that's not true, Prewett. Naughty boy, you shouldn't tell lies. MC is not in her cell, and I want to know where she is. You can't keep her from me, not for long.”

Leander wanted to rip the smugness from Sebastian’s face, his own fear and bitterness making his blood run cold. How could Sebastian know that MC wasn't in her cell? How was that even possible? His eyes flicked up towards the scar on Sebastian’s palm as he wondered if somehow the pact could tell him. But then, that would mean he could locate her if she moved. So, no, that wasn't it. His mind raced, the obvious possibility being one he didn't want to admit, the very idea threatening the honour of the British Auror Office.

Sebastian’s grin was slow and knowing. “You thought you were being so clever, didn't you? You thought you could sneak her out, and nobody would know. What's the plan, Prewett? Are you hoping to keep her all for yourself?”

Leander felt his cheeks burn with a flush, and he could no longer bear the close proximity of him. He let Sebastian go and stepped back, swiping his hand across his face as he swallowed hard.

“I'm not sure what it is you think you know, but you're wrong,” he said, shaking his head. “I'm not sneaking anyone anywhere.”

“Liar!” Sebastian hissed, his fists slamming against his thighs, his eyes wild. “You took her out of there, I know you did! Tell me where she is! You might as well, because if not today, I will find out, and I will come for her. She's mine, Prewett.”

“You think your stupid blood pact makes her yours?” He scoffed, gesturing towards his left hand. “MC has her own mind, Sallow. She might not be able to betray you, but that doesn't mean you own her. She can choose to go and be with whoever she wants.”

Sebastian’s face hardened. “Is that right?”

“Yes it is,” he said, nodding. “MC will always have a choice.”

“I suppose you have hopes that she will choose you,” Sebastian said, his eyes narrowing. “Her prince in shining armour who rescued her from the tower.”

He knew. Sebastian knew MC was out. But how?

Footsteps echoed in the tunnel, and they both turned to see Harrington approaching with his wand held up. He fixed his stern eyes on Sebastian, a slow smile appearing on his mouth.

“Look who we have here,” he said. “Mr Sallow. Oh, I've been looking forward to seeing you again.”

Sebastian threw another glance towards Leander, his eyes determined. “I won't give up.”

“Don't you dare…” Harrington snarled, a spell bursting from his wand. But, he was too late.

Sebastian made a dive for his wand and disappeared with a sharp crack, a swirl of black giving way to nothing as Harrington’s spell hit the wall with a flare of white light.

Leander hung his head, his fingers gripping tightly to his wand as his mind raced, the adrenaline from the fight draining from him. Harrington came up beside him and put a hand on his shoulder.

“Don't worry, lad,” he said. “We'll get him.”

Leander lifted his head to look at Harrington, his heart sinking at what he had to say. The thought of it filling him with such disappointment even though such a thing wasn't unheard of.

“He knew, Harrington,” he said softly. “He knew MC was out of Azkaban and that I was the one who took her. I think…I think we might have a snitch on the team.”

Harrington glanced towards where Sebastian had been standing only seconds ago, his mouth tightening with fury. “Shit,” he muttered, turning away. His voice lifted into a yell that echoed down the tunnel. “Shit!”

This could compromise the whole operation. It could alert Rookwood to the idea that MC was siding with Aurors, and Leander felt the bitter sting of frustration in his bones.

Harrington rubbed his chin in thought, his gaze catching on Leander’s face. “Bloody hell, that's going to give you a shiner come tomorrow,” he said, stepping closer. “You could do with seeing a Healer.”

Leander touched his fingers carefully to his eyebrow, the dull throb making him wince as he felt warm, sticky blood from the split skin there. “I will live,” he sighed.

“Get yourself cleaned up, and then we need to check on McKinnon,” Harrington said. “If there is a snitch, then the safe house could be compromised.”

Leander's stomach plummeted. He'd left MC there after promising he wouldn't let anything happen to her. “I'll go,” he said firmly. “I'll go right now.”

“You need to see a Healer,” Harrington repeated, pointing at his head.

“I'm fine,” Leander insisted. “Besides, MC is my responsibility. It should be me that goes.”

Harrington gave him a long look and then sighed. “Your soft heart is going to get you in trouble one of these days, lad. Fine. Go to the safe house, but don't take any chances. Pack a bag and get MC out of there. Take her somewhere nobody else would even think of looking, and send me a coded owl once you're safe. Understand?”

Leander nodded, his adrenaline beginning to kick in again. “What are you going to do?”

Harrington gave him a meaningful look. “I'm going to turn Seeker and hunt out this bloody snitch.”

Leander nodded, gripping tightly to his wand as he pictured the safe house in his mind, and Disapparated out of the dark tunnel.

To be continued...

Huge thanks, as always, to @eternalremorse and @slytherin-paramour for their support with this fic 💜

Odessa McKinnon is an OC used with the kind permission of @ellivenollivander

Taglist: @evaslytherpuff @writing-intheundercroft @marketfreshfics @loving-him-was-red13

#hogwarts legacy fanfic #sebastian sallow #mc x sebastian sallow #leander prewett x mc #leander prewett #hogwarts legacy #blueraineshadows #blood bound

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