Work Text:
Scotland, May 1906
The sun had just begun to melt into the sea on the horizon, painting the evening sky in warm hues of orange and pink, when Sebastian arrived at the spot he found himself at every single day without fail.
He took a deep breath of the salty air, the rays of the descending sun pleasantly tickling his face as he looked out over the landscape.
This was truly the most beautiful place.
He stood on a small plateau atop a grassy hill that rose from the coast, nestled between the mountains of the Scottish Highlands on one side and the vast ocean on the other. The stunning view captivated him, still managing to take his breath away after all this time.
He slowly squinted his eyes, hoping that, if he just tried hard enough, he could see all the way to the end of the world, to that small strip on the near-infinite skyline where heaven and earth gently kissed.
Sebastian had always loved to gaze at the sea, its ever-changing shapes and shades never looking the same twice. He had also loved to listen to the marvelous sounds it made, from the gentle lapping of the waves on the shore to the thunderous roar of raging storms.
Now, however, everything seemed to be tainted, a gray veil falling over all that he once enjoyed in a life long gone.
On the plateau beside him stood a mighty oak, older than any other living creature around. Its branches spread wide, the newly sprung leaves swaying gently in the warm evening breeze.
Beneath the ancient tree, protected from harm by its natural canopy, rested a large granite stone.
This very spot had been its home for several years now, the granite slowly changing color with the constantly shifting weather, making the letters carved into it harder to read with each passing month.
Sebastian took a dark green blanket from the basket he had brought and spread it out under the tree, just in front of the gray stone. He sat down quietly and closed his eyes, letting the gentle rustling of the leaves and the soft chirping of the nearby birds soothe his troubled heart.
This, right here, was his favorite place in the whole world. It had been for many years.
He needed the comfort of this familiar setting to carry on, every single day of his life now following the same routine without fail.
At 4:30 p.m. on the dot, he would come home from his job at the Ministry. He would then quickly pack his trusty woven basket with everything he needed before leaving the house and starting his ascent to the top of the hill on foot. Although he could have apparated and saved himself the trouble of walking, which took him over half an hour each trip, he preferred to do it the non-magical way. This seemed to help him calm down, easing a tension he always carried.
When he finally arrived, he’d put down his basket, pull out the blanket, and sit down, just as he had done now.
From there, anything could happen. Sometimes he would cry. Other times, he would scream. Occasionally, he'd drink some tea and eat some of the food he'd prepared. Then there were moments when he wouldn't do anything at all.
But usually, he'd be talking.
Most of Sebastian's hours these days were spent in suffocating silence, the words no longer flowing from his mouth as easily as they had in the past. Where there had once been laughter and wit in his life, there was now only quietness and sorrow.
But for some reason, he always found his words right here under the old oak tree.
Maybe it was the serenity of the place itself or the tranquility of the world around him. Perhaps it was because there was only one person he wanted to talk to anyway.
"It's been a hard day at work," he said as he adjusted a fold in the blanket. "I really don't know who thought it was a good idea to make Garreth Weasley the new Potions Master at St. Mungo's. He nearly blew the whole place up. I had to fill out so much paperwork, you wouldn't believe it. He's lucky we're friends now and that there wasn't any real damage."
He forced out a small chuckle. "Well, except for Weasley's eyebrows. He looked like a fried turkey afterward."
A breeze lightly tousled his hair as his eyes drifted back to the ocean, where small fishing boats bobbed peacefully on the open water.
Sebastian wasn't expecting an answer; he never got one, anyway.
"I also visited the family you saved before I came here today. You know, the parents and their three children," he said, a lump forming in his throat. "They are doing really well. William, the youngest, is starting to speak in full sentences now. He's very lively and just the sweetest thing in general, with the softest little laugh that I know you would have loved. The older children are so polite and friendly, too. The eldest daughter, Ophelia, just turned seven a few days ago."
Sebastian eagerly rummaged through the basket.
"They drew me a picture," he said, pausing for a moment before finally finding the small piece of paper and unfolding it. "Well, they drew a picture for you, but they gave it to me to show you."
A multitude of carefully placed strokes of color stared up at him. It was a true work of art, lovingly created by small children's hands.
Sebastian had been an expert at describing visual elements for a long time now, having done so for more than two decades already.
"It’s a really beautiful drawing. They obviously put a lot of effort into it," he began. "You can see the whole family of five standing next to their small cottage. Its walls and windows are painted in blue and brown, though that's not how it actually appears. It's not two stories high either, but I don't mind."
He tried to laugh, but only a deep sigh made its way through. "They are all smiling broadly, holding hands. The children even drew little hearts above their heads. It clearly conveys a genuine sense of happiness."
He lifted his eyes from the paper and looked up at the tree, blinking rapidly.
He had sworn he wouldn't cry today, but his voice was already shaking as he continued, "Next to them, they painted what looks like a garden with many beautiful trees and flowers. I can make out lots of roses, your favorites. There's a big yellow sun, taking up almost a quarter of the paper in the top left-hand corner. And inside the sun, they've drawn you."
He looked down again, his vision blurring slightly as he tenderly touched the brushstrokes he was about to describe next.
"They depicted you in your classic black suit with your wand in hand. You're smiling too, looking truly dashing. What fascinates me most is that they got the color of your eyes perfectly - it's an exact match. And they also captured those moles I so adore on your cheeks just right."
A small noise escaped him, but he didn't dwell on it further as he took the drawing and propped it against the mossy stone.
"They promised me they wouldn't forget you," he said. "And you know, I'll never forget you either."
His hand reached out longingly to the granite, gently tracing the 'O' deeply etched into it.
He took a long moment to compose himself.
"It has been exactly three years today, but every day is still so hard without you. Everyone thinks I am too thin, too pale, and too quiet. But I promise I'm trying my best to carry on with my life. I really am," Sebastian said, his hand continuing to follow the letters engraved in the stone. It felt like the only thing keeping him grounded when grief threatened to consume him whole.
He swallowed hard as another familiar emotion suddenly washed over him, greeting the feeling of sorrow like an old friend: regret.
Sebastian desperately wished another name had been carved into the stone before him, that he had been the one to recieve the curse that tragically ended life as he knew it in a matter of split seconds - the same curse he had once foolishly cast himself.
But it wasn't just that he would have given his life instead, that he would have willingly been the one buried deep within the soil underneath.
The weight of the ring on his finger felt like an anchor, dragging him deeper into despair. Intended for someone else, his plan had been to give it away with a simple yet life-changing question and a sincere promise. But fate had made different plans, leaving it in his possession. Now, it was destined to remain with him forever.
Sebastian gently removed the silver band from his finger and absentmindedly traced the Braille inscription he himself had once charmed on its inside.
He kissed it tenderly, the cold metal soothing on his lips, before placing it on the stone.
"I keep wondering what your answer would have been," he murmured, running his fingertips over the 'G' carved into the granite. "I know how much you wanted to leave that name behind. Maybe you'd have liked to become a Sallow instead."
His hands began to tremble uncontrollably.
"I know my thoughts are scattered today. I'm sorry. It's just that I miss you so much," he said, a familiar hot and salty liquid now streaming freely down his freckled cheeks.
"Perhaps this is the terrible retribution I get for all the mistakes I've made, fate cruelly wiping the slate clean. But it shouldn't have been you. It should've always been me," he cried out.
It felt as if his already broken heart would simply stop beating under the crushing weight of his grief.
"I'm sorry for all the wrongs I've committed in my life. I'm sorry I couldn't save you. I'm sorry that I don't know how much longer I can go on," he said, feeling his pain devour him from within.
"I hope you know that you are still my whole world. I ache so much for you to be here with me."
Everything around him seemed to blur into anguish as his gaze wandered aimlessly over his surroundings.
In this very place Sebastian had once fallen to his knees and begged for mercy after all the mistakes he made during their fifth year at Hogwarts. Here, his wish had finally been granted, and he had been forgiven more than a year later.
It was also here that both of them had decided to rent a flat in London, moving in together after graduation to start a new life together.
And in this place, they had finally found each other's lips late one night, both laughing as they realized what the butterflies in their stomachs had meant all those years.
Once upon a time, they had woven countless memories and shared innumerable cherished moments together in this sacred spot.
Now, it was only Sebastian.
Utterly alone.
"1,096 days have passed," he whispered, his voice ragged, "but I will never stop giving you everything you deserve for being my best friend, my haven, my sunshine, my everything."
The world around him froze in solemn silence, listening intently to his confession as he closed his eyes:
"I will always love you with all that I am."
His cries felt interminable, the sun having long since disappeared into the night. The full moon had claimed its place in the sky now, casting a soft silver glow over the world around him.
Sebastian didn't know how long he had been sitting there, weeping under the watchful gaze of the mighty moon, when he suddenly heard the unmistakable rustling of feathers next to him.
Looking up, he saw a bird had landed on the slab of granite in front of him. Its feathers were pure white, its eyes and beak an intense black. Despite its unusual appearance, Sebastian knew immediately what kind of bird it was: a crow.
Frozen in shock, he couldn’t speak or move. Sebastian was certain he must be hallucinating, his senses playing the cruelest tricks on him. A crow had been the Patronus of the love of his life, and it had also become his own Patronus three years ago to the day.
Perhaps he had succumbed to madness in his grief after all.
He slowly closed his eyes, but when he opened them again, the bird was still there, its head tilted as it studied him intently. Sebastian reached out cautiously, afraid to startle it away, but the bird didn't even flinch.
He tenderly touched its crown, feeling the downy softness under his fingertips. As he began to stroke its head gently, the bird seemed to lean into his touch, closing its eyes in a gesture of trust and comfort.
It couldn't be real, yet somehow it was.
The sob that tore from Sebastian's throat was deep and raw:
"Ominis."