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Chapter Text

As the more sentient tree branches of the Forbidden Forest shook off the last traces of the winter snow, a crisp Spring air arrived at Hogwarts. Crocus buds littered the grounds, along with sporadic beds of horklumps sprouting along the circumference of the Castle Greenhouses, as the first glimmers of sunlight began to break through the surrounding mountain peaks, reflecting onto the Black Lake.

The accompanying aura of renewal washed through the corridors of Hogwarts with the scent of fresh oranges and cherry blossom.

“It’s an enchantment, I reckon.” Garreth had chuckled on the way to Charms.

She’d rolled her eyes and called him a cynic, tucking a loose strand of her rebellious, notoriously ruby hair behind her ear as she hunted through her satchel for the right spell book.

“A cynic?! Oh, ho!! That stench is about as authentic as your hair colour, I reckon.” He retorted with a playful wink.

“Is that the latest line of enquiry along the Hogwarts gossip-mill?” She queried with a wry smile, “Only a week into the term and Sallow’s already scraping the barrel…”

“Well, I can’t have my charge claiming too many accolades now, can I?” a familiar voice crooned, causing her chest to temporarily tighten, before the familiar, accompanying warmth set in as she turned her head to meet his gaze.

Eighteen suited Sebastian. He’d grown a few inches since those early days of fifth year; the duel in Defence Against the Dark Arts class where she’d sent him flying, sneaking into the Restricted Section of the Library together…

In light of all that had followed, he’d grown even more in himself; seeing Anne take her first steps towards recovery had brought the light back to his eyes and the smirk back to the corner of his lips.

The lips she definitely didn’t find herself absently staring at during every Potions class.

“Your former charge, I think you’ll find.” She corrected him.

“Is it possible that the troll-defeating Hero of both Hogsmeade and Hogwarts, the Crossed Wands Champion who put us all to shame in our OWLs, and will inevitably do so again in our NEWTs, has outgrown the need for Sebastian Sallow?” Ominis teased, his familiar droll bringing a further smirk to her lips.

“Once my charge, always my charge.” He retorted, his deep brown eyes not once faltering from meeting the gaze of her own as they shared one of their infamous “looks.”

A Slytherin-Ravenclaw alliance is an often-underestimated one. One would be forgiven for assuming, upon seeing the pair at first glance, that a marriage of their mutual stubbornness and ambition would have them constantly at one another’s throats. However, as he’d been knocked to the floor in that fateful fifth-year duel, he was content in the idea that he’d met his match.

At first glance, she’d carried an air of intimidation; true to her house, she was clearly driven by an insatiable thirst for knowledge. He was keen to discover the weaknesses in her armour and looked forward to the satisfaction of another victory against someone who, finally, seemed to be an almost-worthy opponent…

Until he found himself in an entirely unfamiliar duelling scenario; colliding with the cold, stone floor.

Her knowledge, casting and wit had both impressed him and trounced him, but her grace and courtesy in doing so had touched him. She hadn’t lorded her victory over him, as he might’ve expected from any other student. Instead, her extended hand to help him back up had left him both completely flabbergasted and utterly charmed.

Truthfully, it was an honour to be bested by her. And if you can’t beat them, he’d shrugged, in this case, you truly must join them.

Their subsequent adventures and escapades pushed them to extremes that would pale the faces of wizards over thrice their age. However, a deep mutual respect, trust and companionship had also blossomed; they both held secrets for each other that would go to their respective graves. His charisma and penchant for pulling off feats of near impossibility both complimented and often goaded her natural curiosity into action. Whereas her perceptive and creative outlook often soothed his urge to rush into situations unprepared, and her quick-thinking always got them out of the inevitable complications that arose when he did so anyway…

“What’s gotten into those two?” Amit queried, accompanied by a fresh-faced Anne Sallow, much recovered from the mysterious curse that had recently almost drained her of her life.

“The usual secret telepathy, I’d wager” she giggled. “Apparently, it’s evaded he and I, even as twins, to favour this daring duo...”

“You see? She definitely needs me...” Sebastian sighed, still locked on to her gaze, “Without my voice in her head, our heroine of Hogsmeade would be lost.”

“Likely at peace, too.” She retorted, turning into the classroom as Ominis failed to stifle a laugh.

An hour and a half of Lumos Solem later, and she had never been happier to see a free study period on her timetable. She’d spent the short hours of winter sunlight snowed into the Castle, huddled over tomes and scrolls in the east section of the Library, and she yearned to feel the sun on her face. The various Vivariums in the Room of Requirement had kept her going through the colder months, but there was something so enticing about the first light of Spring that had her loosening her tie and rolling up her shirt sleeves as she stepped into the sunlit courtyard. Her robe made something of a makeshift blanket as she sat on the cobbled ground, took a small vial of the rose petal and hibiscus tea she had brewed over the winter and poured it into a conjured cup. She let her hair loose, allowing the breeze to carry her long, red waves in any and every direction for a moment, before taking a long, satisfying sip of her brewed creation.

“Too much rose, not enough hibiscus” she hummed. She nursed the warm cup, nonetheless.

As the bells tolled on the hour, she heard the faintest ringing of something new coming from the northernmost bell tower; singing.

Anne had mentioned to her in passing a few weeks prior that she was looking forward to re-joining the Frog Choir that term, but in all honestly, she hadn’t paid the concept much mind. Professor Black was not renowned as a Headmaster who even remotely cared for, let alone championed the extra-curricular activities on offer at Hogwarts, as such, they often remained a mystery to anyone who wasn’t in the know. Crossed Wands was an unsanctioned, student-run club that had been extended to her through an invitation from Sebastian, and Imelda did a very good job of gatekeeping the newly reinstated Quidditch regime. However, music was her best-kept secret from her so-called “Squib years.”

When she had not shown any trace of magical abilities in her younger years, she had turned her focus to music; playing the piano and singing, namely. She had been offered a scholarship to London’s Royal Academy of Music to study, which she had had every intention of accepting, until her magical abilities had begun to appear. Nowadays, her voice was kept to the gentle humming of a half-remembered aria that echoed around the Room of Requirement, much to Deek’s delight.

It had never occurred to her to ask about musical pursuits in the Wizarding World, what with the events of her fifth year and the aftermath that followed in her sixth; whilst taking time to mourn the loss of Professor Fig, she had then turned most of her attention to aiding Sebastian in curing Anne. It felt fitting to try and make some good out of all that had happened and all whom had been lost. Whilst she had sided with the Keepers and vowed to protect and seal away the Repository, she couldn’t deny that further exploration of Isidora’s methods was entirely the cause of Anne’s recovery. ‘Taking away’ the curse was not a decision she had reached lightly, and the time she had taken to consider the matter had put much of a strain on her friendship with Sebastian, but she had seen the dark bags under his eyes growing as he became gaunt; dancing on a knife’s edge as his desperation drew him closer to darker and darker magic. She’d known the consequences of taking away Anne’s pain, whereas neither of them could begin to fathom the consequences of the tomes he had begun pouring over…

______

“I’ll do it, Sebastian.” She had stated, as his pale, hunched frame had jolted up from the runes he was translating.

“You…” he hesitantly croaked, “You will?”

“On one condition.”

“… Condition?” He’d repeated in disgust.

“You…” She faltered, gently reaching for his cold, pale hand, which he’d flinched away. “You’ll stop… this.” She gestured towards the scrolls and scrawling of his notes on dark artefacts.

“I’m not afraid of the Relic,” he’d frowned.

“Nor am I,” she’d soothed, “but… I am afraid of what it’s doing to you.”

He held a defensive look.

“Perhaps you’re right,” she’d continued, “Isidora’s desire to take away pain wasn’t wrong. Her genuine wish to cure and heal wasn’t wrong... But she went mad with power. She took the best of intentions and turned it into the worst of outcomes, and I’m scared that it’s happening to you, too.”

She found his hand again. Her touch sent a shock down his spine.

“I’ve seen what happened to Isidora, Sebastian. I can’t let that happen to you.”

Their eyes had met for the first time in weeks. Tears welled in both of their eyes.

“Come back to us, Seb...” She’d whispered tearfully, “Come back to me. I’m losing you, and I can’t do this without you.”

His gaunt, pasty face had softened, as if somewhere, deep inside himself, he’d heard her through the darkness.

“Isidora felt alone, like no one could see her vision, like no one supported her, and it drove her to her demise. I won’t let that happen to you. I know you don’t think I can ever truly understand, and maybe I can’t, but I’m trying to... I support you. You’re not alone in this, and you never will be.”

Abandoning her seat, she’d stood and crossed over an unspoken border, around the table, and kneeled in front of his chair, which he had turned to face her.

“I’ll do this, Sebastian... But you… Must… S-stop…” she stammered between heaving sobs.

“Anne needs her brother, now more than ever, and I need my friend… My best friend… And… I don’t know… W-where h-he is… Anym-more...” She wept into the silence as tears blurred her vision into obscurity.

The stalemate was broken after what felt like an eternity, as she heard the creak of his chair, and the softness of his jumper enveloped her. She clung to him as her cries were muffled into his shoulder.

“I’ll stop... I’ll stop. I’m so sorry… I’ll stop. I’m here...” He’d hushed, stroking her hair and rocking her gently as her sobbing shook her body.

They’d sat on the floor of the Undercroft like that for over an hour.

“I’ll never leave you alone again.” He’d vowed, as delicate tears of his own stung his bloodshot eyes, before tumbling to grace his freckled cheeks.

____

Sourcing the Goblin silver had taken a little longer than she’d planned, and her greatest worry was causing Anne any further pain, but as the colour began to return to both twins’ faces in the weeks that had followed, she knew in her heart she had done the right thing, both magically and morally.

She was brought back into the Courtyard from her mind’s musings over the last two years by a loud, abnormal call of birdsong. Starlings, by the sound of it. Unusual, she pondered, for them to make it so far north into the Highlands…

Chapter Text

Seeing the Sallow twins bicker over who got the last roasted potato at dinner was such a refreshing addition to this season of renewal, she mused.

Ominis welcomed the stray Ravenclaw as she quietly sidled into their, relatively empty, section of the Slytherin table to gain a better view of the debate… Not that many people minded her presence there, anyway.

They both held a mutual appreciation for the ongoing normality of their final year. Neither of them particularly yearned to be back in the depths of Scriptoriums or Catacombs, fighting for their lives against Inferi or spiders.

As they quietly enjoyed their dinner together in a mutually respected, comfortable silence, the siblings continued:

“As Slytherin’s reinstated Champion Beater as of this afternoon, I can’t help but feel that I’m the significantly more deserving party this evening, dear sister.” Sebastian chuffed.

“I’d been meaning to ask you how that had gone!” Anne gasped, “So, you made the team again?!”

Overhearing the turn in conversation, the two spectators decided to partake. They took their plates and shuffled towards the noise.

“Congratulations! I didn’t even know you’d had trials!” She chimed in, squeezing Anne’s shoulder in greeting and beaming at Sebastian from across the table.

“Even Imelda wouldn’t be foolish enough to deprive the female student body of Hogwarts the sight of me in Quidditch Uniform…” He smirked, leaning back to return a flirtatious grin.

“If they’re relying on you as a distraction, we really must have the worst team in the history of the school.” Ominis retorted, taking the very same potato that had started the whole discussion, much to Sebastian’s dismay.

“Anne, was that the Frog Choir I heard practicing today from the Courtyard?” She asked, diverting the conversation.

“Yes!” She chirped, “Oh, it’s so wonderful to be back in rehearsals…”

“What sort of choral works do you sing? Are there any specific Wizard composers?”

‘Something of a virtuoso, are we?” Ominis hummed, ignorant to the glare from Sebastian as he relished in another mouthful of his claimed prize.

“Simply curious,” she shrugged, “I… dabbled… in music…“ She hesitated, “In a past life, but I only really know Muggle works and composers... I wasn’t sure if things were the same in the magical world.”

“Well, I’d argue that music is the closest that Muggles will ever come to truly understanding and creating magic. Mozart wrote an Opera about a giant snake and a magic flute... Who’s to say he wasn’t referring to Basilisks and enchantments? Not to mention the countless references to various magical creatures and folklore in Brahms, Schumann and Schubert… ” Sebastian mused, taking a final swig from his chalice as a brief silence shrouded the table. The three of them stared at him in equal parts surprise, amazement and humour.

“That was…” She stammered.

“Oddly... Profound.” Ominis concluded.

“I mean, I suppose…” Anne began, still unsure as to how to continue after her brother’s revelation, “There is certainly a crossover, a lot of Magical folk enjoy the works of Muggle composers, but we do have our own composers, too. Have you not visited the manuscript section of the Library?”

“No, I haven’t! I didn’t even know it existed…” She answered, genuinely surprised. Even two years into her studies, the Castle still managed to keep her on her toes.

“Oh, it’s to the left of the Restricted Section, you can’t miss it!”

“Ah, well, she’s certainly no stranger to the Restricted Section…” Sebastian hummed coyly as he leaned forwards over the table.

“Remind me whose charge I allegedly am?” She smirked, also leaning over the table to match his stance, eyes locked in combat, their noses moments away from touching.

“Here we go…” Ominis murmured to Anne, who gave a quick hum in agreement.

“Oh, I never said I wasn’t responsible…” Sebastian winked.

“Ah, well, with all that Quidditch practice you’ll be doing, you’ll have no time to be getting me into trouble…” She sighed, mentally marking out the constellations in his freckles.

“You are trouble…” He purred, “Which is why I know exactly where you’ll be when I’m out on that pitch…”

“Oh, really?”

“Really.”

“And where would that be?” She smiled, her eyes flickering with golden and copper embers that sent flutters through his chest… Was that hibiscus flower on her breath?

He cleared his throat and regained his composure, before retorting:

“Sat in the stands, admiring me.”

She threw her head back in a cackle, drumming her hand on the table, and turned to depart for Ravenclaw Tower.

“Not a chance, Sallow.” She called, as she whisked her satchel over her shoulder.

“By the second match of the season, you’ll be sporting a Slytherin jumper. Mark my words!” He laughed, watching the last few whisps of red hair disappear into the hallway.

“And by this time next year, he’ll have got his act together and you’ll have a sister-in law, mark my words.” Ominis whispered, as Anne gave another amused hum in agreement.

Chapter Text

She’d risen early that morning to tend to her Vivariums, along with the array of beasts they played host to.

As she watched in admiration over the ever-growing family of Thestrals aiding their youngest foal in its first knock-kneed steps out of their pen, she found herself joined by a familiar little figure at her side.

“Good morning, Deek,” she whispered, keen not to startle the foal. “How are you, today?”

“Very well, thank you, Miss.” He replied, matching her hushed tones. “Apologies for interrupting you, Miss, but Deek has found the manuscripts you asked for!” he whispered excitedly, presenting her with the beautifully wrapped collections of sheet music and two worn-out books, “Including the guidebooks to Magical Harmony and Tonality, that Deek thought may come in useful!”

“Thank you, Deek.” She smiled, “That’s so considerate of you. I greatly appreciate it.”

As she settled the collection into her satchel, nestled safely between two hefty spell books, Deek continued:

“Pardon me, Miss, but I believe that Mr. Sallow is outside.”

“Thank you, Deek,” she replied, gathering her belongings and making for the entrance to the Room of Requirement.

“Ah, now there’s a sight for sore eyes,” he smiled, as she appeared through the glass doors of the Vivarium, stepping into the eternally moonlit room.

“You’re a shameless flirt, Sallow…” She smiled in return, pulling the last few strands of her hair into a loose plait, “What are you after? Have you mislaid your Potions essay, again?”

“I must stop doing my schoolwork so close to the Hippogriff Paddock…” He mused, extending his arm for her to take as they indulged their usual Friday morning tradition of him walking her to Defence Against the Dark Arts.

“How do you fancy a picnic by the lake this afternoon?” He asked as they arrived on the third floor, “It feels like it’s been far too long since we got to spend some quality time together.”

“Unchaperoned?!” She gasped in feigned shock, “My, how people will talk…”

“I’ll take that as a yes, then?”

“I have a few errands to run first, but yes… Can I leave you in charge of sourcing the food and not eating it all before I arrive?” She cocked an eyebrow.

“When have I ever let you down?” He crooned, taking a seat next to Ominis, as she settled herself beside Natty, giving her a warm smile as the class began...

-

As the bells chimed noon, sunlight streamed through the leaded windows of the empty music room, casting a gentle warmth over the sleeping toads.

She smiled softly as she gazed at them, hearing their delicate snores in perfect harmony.

“So much for the Frog Choir…” She chuckled, before ascending the flight of stairs leading to a beautifully decorated pianoforte delicately tucked into the corner. Scoping the room to ensure that she really was alone, she raised the lid to reveal a set of well-worn keys, and her hands wasted no time in becoming re-acquainted with the scales and arpeggios she had practiced daily in her youth.

She began hesitantly, not wishing to disturb the calm of the empty tower... But as the toads’ slumber deepened, so grew her bravery in her exploration of the keys under her fingertips, beginning to weave a different kind of magic as her hands settled on Mozart. Where her fingers lead, her voice quickly followed; shimmering and resonant, previously repressed melodies poured out of her throat like a rich wine, laced with sweet honey.

As the final chords of the aria resonated through the bell tower, she found comfort in the lack of applause. She allowed the castle walls to absorb the final traces of her secret gift, before turning her attention to the manuscript and books that Deek had kindly retrieved for her.

It became apparent that Magical Harmonic Cycles weren’t too dissimilar to that of Muggle Modal Scales; nonetheless, they proved to have tricks up their sleeves that left her feeling somewhat disheartened as she turned her attention to the final crumpled-up manuscript on the pile…

“Mo Shùil Ad Dhèidh” it read, as the rows of notes unfolded before her. It presented only a vocal line, with no form of accompaniment.

It seemed that an acapella finale was to conclude this lunchtime recital.

“Hmm, Gaelic…” She mused, “I’m a little rusty…” she announced sheepishly to the empty tower as she set the manuscript on a stand, before turning to the dust-coated harp to pluck her starting note.

“Dh’ éirich mi moch air mhaduinn an-dé…” she hesitantly sight-sang, awaiting reprimand from the instruments. When none came, she continued:

“S gun ghearr mi’n ear-thalmhainn do bhrìgh mo sgéil,

An dùil gu ‘m faicinn fhéin rùn mo chléibh,

Och òin gu ‘m faca ‘s a cùl rium féin…”

As her honey-wine voice lilted on to find herself in a loose, comfortable waltz rhythm, she was startled when a soft accompaniment sprung to life from the strings of the playerless harp. Sensing her startle, it slowed; playing a tender arpeggio, as if to encourage her to continue…

“Och òch mo chailinn ‘s mo shùil ad dhéidh…” She responded, awaiting its answer.

A resounding glissando was the approval she didn’t know she’d wanted.

They continued together:

“Och òch mo chailinn ‘s mo shùil ad dhéidh

Mo Lili mo Lili ‘s mo shùil ad dhéidh,

Cha léir dhomh am bealach aig cumha nan deur…”

A sudden disturbance amongst the previously slumbering toads brought her encore to an abrupt close, as she slammed the piano lid shut in a panic. Scooping the last stray manuscript into her bag, she turned to thank the harp for their duet before casting a quick disillusionment charm and scuttling out of the tower, leaving its true residents to their disgruntled croaking.

Chapter Text

“You know, it’s rumoured that Mozart was actually a Wizard…” Sebastian chuckled, skimming a stone over the Black Lake.

He truly had delivered on his promise of a picnic.

“Oh?” she hummed, tucking into a scone as the gentle flick of her wrist instructed the levitating teapot to pour the freshly-brewed Earl Grey into two cups.

“An utterly brilliantly disguised one, at that…” he continued, returning to the makeshift blanket of their combined cloaks before reclining onto his side, propped up by an elbow. “Apparently, the soprano who sang Queen of The Night was under the Cantis charm for the entire Opera!” he laughed, reaching for his cup of tea.

“You’ve got Mozart on the brain today.” she mused, smiling at him.

“Just a continuation of my thoughts from dinner last night...” He hummed coyly, “I’m not just a pretty face, you know.”

“I have no doubt,” she laughed, “I know what kind of Machiavellian plots your mind stirs up…”

“Oh! You wound me!” he cried, miming a dagger to the heart.

“Perhaps a little less time spent wallowing in Operas and a little more time spent focusing on that Charms essay due in on Monday might do you some good…” She replied, seemingly unmoved by his theatrics.

“You know, I really must keep away from that Hippogriff Paddock…”

“Another Sallow-penned masterpiece lost to the beaks of fate?” She chuckled.

“I fear so...” He sighed. “What’s to become of me? The world will forever be robbed of my genius…”

“Perhaps we ought to keep you locked in Slytherin’s Scriptorium? That might inspire you to commit some of your genius to paper.”

“Chained up in the Scriptorium, eh?” He grinned devilishly, “Don’t threaten me with a good time.”

“Knowing you, pouring over all of those forbidden books, you’d never want to leave.”

“I think you just like the idea of keeping me locked up and at your mercy…” He smirked, his eyes smouldering.

“Case and point about all that Machiavellian plotting of yours,” she smirked back, gazing down at him.

He really had grown in so many ways. Well-rested and no longer plagued by dark magic, his eyes held such depth to them. His freckled face had become more defined, but still held all the youth and charming expression of his earlier years. Summers spent working the fields in Feldcroft had filled out his frame, broadening his shoulders. There was such an aura of strength to him, in more ways than one... She had met him as a broken boy, journeyed with him and refused to abandon him as he was driven to his lowest, and she now considered it an honour to see him rise out of the ashes into the ambitious, quick-witted, proper and truly magnetic force of a man he was becoming.

“Fantasising about that Quidditch uniform again, are we?” he cooed flirtatiously, bringing her out of her thoughts, “Or has the thought of me in chains got your mind elsewhere?”

“Definitely the Quidditch uniform,” she smiled, sipping her tea, “You’re far too pretty a face to survive a day in Azkaban.”

His chest rumbled with laughter, as her closing comment took him by surprise.

Come to think of it, everything about her had taken him by surprise…

Her intelligence, myriad of talents, wit and loyalty spoke for themselves. She didn’t need him to champion her virtues and accolades, but that had never stopped him from doing so anyway… The only person he had ever spoken higher of than himself, or his sister, was her.

However, it had been her beauty that he had gushed over to Ominis the night after their first duel; that intimidating aura had intoxicated him… Copper flames crackled in her eyes, as the red curls that framed her face had sparked a fire within him. He felt a drive not to be better wizard than her, but to be a better wizard for her... Perhaps even with her.

“Love at first cast…” His friend had chuckled cynically, handing him an enchanted heating pad for his sore back.

For the first month of knowing her, he’d been convinced that she must be half-born; a Veela, seeking sanctuary at Hogwarts to gain protection from the Dark Wizards that seemed to plague the entire Valley in their pursuit of her, as she enchanted the entire school in the process… It was only as he found himself shrouded in the depths of darkness and desperation that he realised that she was no Veela, but a Goddess.

Unfaltering, ever present.

Where others had abandoned him, she had stayed.

As she had knelt in front of him in the Undercroft, tears shining in her burning eyes, begging him to come back to her, she had pulled him from a deep, murky depth that he hadn’t even recognised his descent into.

Shrouded in the deepest dark of his mind, she still shone... A beacon of all that was honest and pure.

Even now, bathed in the beautiful light of Spring, she shimmered. Her hair had grown longer, scarlet ringlets and waves cascading down her back like a lavender-scented waterfall. The lightest touches of makeup framed her ever-beautiful eyes, still simmering with copper and gold. Her frame held soft, gentle curves, whilst she carried herself with a strength he had never seen in a woman before, complimented by her aroma of jasmine and sandalwood…

Strong, yet gentle; she was ever enigmatic. An asset to Ravenclaw.

She was a riddle that he would revel in solving for ever more.

Chapter Text

“Could you pass me the toad sweat, please, Sebastian?” She hummed, stirring her cauldron.

“Of course,” he smiled, passing her a recently refilled jar, before returning his concentration to dicing valerian root.

As they continued with their respective assignments, she heard him begin to absent-mindedly hum a familiar tune… The very tune she had sung in the Music Room a few days prior.

“How do you know that song?” she whispered across her cauldron, snapping him out of his daze.

“What song?”

“That song.”

“Which song?”

“The one you were just humming!” she hissed impatiently.

“Oh!” He chuckled, “Well, I am Scottish.”

“What’s that got to do with it?” She queried suspiciously.

“It’s a folk song from around here.” He smiled, “My mother used to sing it to Anne and I when we couldn’t sleep through the night.”

“Oh!” She shrugged, returning her attention to her potion.

“The real question is…” he retorted, cocking an accusing eyebrow whilst slicing through more valerian root, “How do you know that song?”

“Oh…” She panicked, desperately thinking of a lie he wouldn’t see through. “Well, I…”

“Do either of you have something you’d like to share with the class?” Professor Sharp queried sarcastically, interrupting their discussion.

“No, Professor…” they mumbled sheepishly in unison.

“In that case, I suggest you return to focus to your cauldrons.” He tutted, before turning back to the blackboard.

__

“What’s it about?” she turned to ask him as they stumbled into the Great Hall for dinner.

“I’m afraid I’m going to need a bit more context than that...” He replied.

“The song you were humming in class!” She responded, “The one you said your mother used to sing. I’ve only ever… heard it… In Gaelic.”

“You’re meaning to tell me that the Keeper of Ancient Magic can’t wrap her head around a little bit of Gaelic?” he teased, taking a seat, “Tut, tut, you do Ravenclaw a disservice.”

“Yes, well, you’ve always had a way with words that seems to have evaded the rest of us...” She hummed.

“Mmm, flattery will get you everywhere…” He smirked, gesturing for her to join him at the Slytherin table.

“It’s a love song.” He finally answered, breaking the comfortable silence that had fallen over their dinner as they shared a bowl of profiteroles.

“Then, why would your mother-”

“It’s an old, sad tale of lost love.” He interrupted, “Don’t make it weird.”

Another comfortable silence shrouded them as they continued to devour their dessert.

“How did you hear it, anyway?” He queried with a mouthful of pastry, causing her to pause.

“… You’ve got whipped cream on your top lip...” She smiled sweetly, reaching to wipe it away.

“And it will stay there until you answer my question…” He continued, playfully batting her hand away.

“I… I heard someone in Irondale singing it once.” She shrugged nonchalantly.

He paused, his brows furrowed together, before wiping the cream from his lip.

“Well, it appears I must retract my comment about your Gaelic prowess,” he snorted, “Irondalites are notorious for their complete butchering of our beautiful mother tongue.”

“Is it a magical folk song?”

“Aren’t all folk songs magical?” He sighed sentimentally, teasing her.

“You know what I mean!” She retorted frustratedly.

It was true, he did know exactly what she meant. But she looked so beautiful when she was irritated…

“Well, I’ll happily continue this conversation with you tomorrow afternoon in The Three Broomsticks, if you’d like? But for now,” he shrugged, rising from his seat, “I’ve got some beauty sleep to catch up on ahead of-”

“The Quidditch Match tomorrow morning.” She interrupted.

“I take it you’ll be in the front row to watch as I send the Gryffindor Team plummeting off their brooms?” He smirked.

“I might stick around for an hour or so…” She teased, “If anything interesting happens.”

“Don’t you play coy with me…” He chuckled, leaning over the table to gaze at her. “Trust me, you won’t be able to keep your eyes off me.”

__

Eight hours of infamous Sallow “beauty sleep,” one black eye and a resounding victory over Gryffindor later, they found themselves two Butterbeers deep in the celebratory atmosphere radiating around The Three Broomsticks.

“That looks so sore…” she worried, as he flinched at her fussing over the profuse swelling around his left eye, “are you sure you wouldn’t like me to look at it?”

“If I can survive a hoe to the face, I can deal with a rogue bludger.” He chortled. “Besides, I plan to elongate your fawning and fussing over me for as long as possible…”

“Is that so?” She sighed, rolling her eyes.

To his credit, he was a phenomenal player. She wasn’t quite sure what she had expected when she tentatively sat beside Ominis and Anne in the Slytherin stands, but his innate charisma, athleticism and drive had produced quite the sportsman, with a healthy dash of showmanship thrown in…

Plus, she couldn’t deny to herself that he did look good in the uniform.

“Owl called in with a letter for you, dear…” Sirona called, placing an immaculately crafted envelope into her hand as she brought through another round of Butterbeers.

“What’s that?” Sebastian queried, cocking his non-bruised eyebrow.

“Nothing important.” She squeaked, shoving the envelope rapidly into the depths of her satchel.

“All the more reason not to hide it from me, then…” He pried playfully.

“Sallow! Get over here!” Imelda bellowed from across the pub.

He hesitated, before slowly rising to his feet.

“Duty calls,” he sighed, “I’ll be back in a moment… Don’t go anywhere.” He smiled, draping his emerald Quidditch robe around her shoulders.

She waited until he was engulfed in the crowd of Slytherins before reaching back into her satchel to retrieve the letter. With shaking hands, she unfolded the parchment…

Thank you for taking the time to audition for the Hogwarts Frog Choir.

Whilst the panel were sure to comment on what an admirable gift you possess, we regret that we do not deem it an appropriate fit for this highly prestigious ensemble.

With Warm Regards,

She sighed through the heavy pang that came to rest in her chest. She wasn’t sure what she had expected, but it wasn’t that.

“Looks like I backed the right horse in choosing magic.” She mumbled to herself, before shoving the letter into the nearest pocket and making short work of the remains of her Butterbeer.

Chapter Text

Deek missed the sound of her voice flowing through the Room of Requirement.

In the week or so that had followed the letter from the audition panel, she’d fallen reluctantly silent, focusing instead on further honing her magical skills, banishing all thoughts of musical endeavours from her brain.

This was a temporary low, she’d assured both herself and Deek... She would be herself again, soon.

She wasn’t sure how well she’d convinced either of them.

Sebastian Sallow stormed through the halls of the Castle towards his next lesson, growing increasingly irritable as the days went on.

She’d been quiet after he returned to their table at The Three Broomsticks. Quickly sensing she was in no mood to celebrate; he’d escorted her home shortly after, much to the dismay of his team, who were rapidly drinking Sirona out of Firewhiskey.

Something was, quite clearly, wrong.

Namely, the fact that she hadn’t told him what was wrong.

He was not a man who tolerated secrets being kept from him, especially by her. After all, there were no secrets between them…

He took to the Quidditch pitch to vent his frustrations.

“Perhaps it’s news from her family?” Ominis called out from the empty stands.

“No,” he grunted, batting away another bludger, “after everything that she’s done for Anne, we know we can always talk to each other about our families.”

“Perhaps it’s here, then? Maybe she’s failing a class?”

Sebastian snorted, a crack echoed across the grounds as he struck the final bludger, sending it plummeting towards Hogsmeade, “We both know that’s impossible.”

Ominis hummed in agreement, as Sebastian sighed and gradually dismounted.

“Perhaps… A suitor?” He hesitated.

Sebastian froze.

“She… No… Surely not...” He bluffed, as genuine panic crept in, threatening to undo his apparent composure, much to Ominis’ amusement.

He wasn’t ignorant, he knew that she’d be ‘coming out’ this year. He’d had years of preparation for this very moment with Anne. He’d kept a watchful eye over the two women as he’d noticed the eyes of his peers beginning to linger. Anne had always held a demure, reserved exterior that was only partially due to her recovery. She seldom adventured beyond the occasional social call to Hogsmeade, always chaperoned by himself… However, she was different.

She was adventurous and savvy; she sauntered unchaperoned all through the Valley, from Upper Hogsmeade to Cragcroft, often in pursuit of Merlin-knew-what. Opinionated conversation, marinaded in refreshing wit, sparkled out of her at any and every given opportunity. The qualities that held her in such high regard in the Wizarding World had no place in the world of suitors and courting, much to Sebastian’s great relief.

That’s not to say she wasn’t a highly desirable woman… Far from it… But rather that he’d observed her to be desired for entirely the wrong reasons. She was sought by his peers as a prize to be won, a spirit to be tamed… The thought of all that made her brilliant being left to collect dust on a trophy shelf, whilst the empty shell of her former self rested on the arm of some addle pate in a cravat, insufferably chortling away to a roomful of acquaintances about how feisty his darling wife had allegedly been in her school years, sickened him to his stomach.

“Well, whatever it is, the answer apparently lies in that letter.” Ominis shrugged, before departing towards the Castle, leaving Sebastian to begrudgingly pack away the practice balls.

As he went to hang up his broom, he dug his hands into his robe pockets, searching for his locker key. His eyebrows furrowed in confusion as he felt the rustle of paper between his fingers… Then, his heart skipped a beat as he remembered; she’d been wearing his robe that afternoon at The Three Broomsticks, right after she’d received the letter that had so rapidly turned her mood.

He tentatively pulled out the envelope, letting his thumb trace over her name.

Could he do this?

Surely, he should just talk to her before he resorted to invading her privacy like this…

“Perhaps… A suitor?”

Before the suggestion could haunt him further, he ripped open the paper, rapidly scanning the words for any outpourings of affection from some snotty-nosed, butter-upon-bacon type back in London…

“Oh, you ignorant fool.” He hissed, only partially to himself, as he slammed his locker shut and made towards the Astronomy wing.

Chapter Text

Deek sighed to himself as he watched her finger absent-mindedly swirling in mid-air, whilst an enchanted spoon stirred a cup of her latest batch of rose and hibiscus tea that, he’d observed, was rapidly growing cold…

She summoned the cup to her hands and quietly sipped as she remained cocooned on the sofa, staring at the fire as it roared comfortably in the background.

They both bolted upright as they heard the door to the Room of Requirement suddenly fling open and a flurry of green thundered into the room.

“He’s a fool.”

“What are you-“

“He’s a callous, tone-deaf old fool.” Sebastian thundered.

“Sebastian, I-“

“He lost his touch years ago; Black keeps him on out of sheer apathy!”

“What are you talking about?”

“This!” He presented her with the letter, “Is what I’m talking about.”

A shocked silence stung the room.

“H-how did you find that?” She stammered, her heart pounding.

“You were wearing my robe when you opened it,” he responded, “you must have put it in one of the pockets after.”

“I – I don’t know what to say…”

“I do, he’s a cretin.” He hissed, bundling the letter into the fireplace.

“You don’t know that.”

“Yes I do.”

“How could you possibly-“

“Because I heard you in the music room that day.” He interrupted her.

She froze; no words able to form in her mouth.

As he calmed down from his initial flurry, he became eager to break the uncomfortable aura that still prickled around the room. He gestured for them to sit together as the fire roared comfortingly.

“Earlier in the spring… You’d been asking us about wizard composers over dinner. The next day, you snuck into the music room.” He sighed, reluctant to reveal the full extent of his understanding of that day to her.

“You... Went to spy on me?” She exhaled in shock.

“No!” He yelped, “Never! No… No.” His face was panic-stricken. “I would never do that to you…” He reassured her, which she believed.  “The truth is, I went up there, under a disillusionment charm, to gather toad sweat. I had no idea you were up there until I heard you at the piano.”

“… Toad sweat?!” She queried doubtfully.

“All they do is sleep and sing!” He justified, “It’s far easier than gallivanting about the Highlands trying to find them!”

“I can’t deny, that is a quintessentially you thing to do… You always work smarter, rather than harder.” She sighed, perching cautiously on the sofa, as Sebastian let out a short, relieved laugh before an anxious silence crept back over them. The characteristically bold Slytherin found himself frantically scrambling to gather both the courage and the right words to break their silence.

“What I heard in there was… Breath-taking.” He whispered, leaning in close to her.

“Stop.”

“It was.”

“So, wait… You knew all along?” She probed. “Is that why you brought up the song in Potions?”

“Technically, you brought it up...” He retorted. “I genuinely did already know it.”

“Oh, Merlin, you heard all that terrible Gaelic…” She whined, burying her head in her hands.

“It wasn’t terrible!” He chuckled warmly. “You’re brilliant.”

“What do you know about music, anyway?” Her embarrassment rebuffed.

“Enough to know that you must be some half-breed of Siren with a voice like that.” He replied.

“Don’t be ridiculous.” She hissed dismissively, internally mortified.

“I am never ridiculous.” He remarked irritably, rising to his feet. “You, however, are utterly ridiculous…”

He ceased the pacing he had not realised he had broken into as he turned to face her, their faces half-illuminated by the gently swaying flames dancing in the fireplace.

“Not only are you the most talented witch I’ve ever encountered; you’ve mastered ancient forms of magic that the rest of us couldn’t begin to fathom, vanquished Dark Wizards, rescued magical beasts and saved my sister’s life… But now, I find that the most beautiful woman I’ve ever met has an even more beautiful voice?!” He professed slightly too angrily.

Her eyes widened.

“I...” She croaked in shock, fighting back confused tears as his features softened.

He hadn’t meant to startle her.

Sighing heavily, he cautiously reached to take her hand, which she tentatively accepted, before gently pulling her toward him.

“From the day of our first duel, you have never ceased to astound, inspire and amaze me…” He whispered, not letting go of her hand, “It breaks my heart to think that you would ever want to keep any part of yourself hidden away, uncelebrated, when all I ever want to do is praise every facet of your brilliance to the stars themselves.”

“Sebastian…” She blushed. Tears, now of joy, beginning to glisten in her eyes.

“Oh, Merlin, this is all so improper of me…” He panicked, running the hand that had previously held hers through his swept chestnut locks.

‘When have you ever cared about any of that?” She half-laughed, still misty-eyed.

“I know, I’m a fiendish cad…” He chuckled nervously, “But, I must speak truthfully now.”

He took a breath, gathering the nerve to finally dare to express the sentiments he had buried beneath years of playful flirtation.

“I’ve disguised my affection… My true affection… Beneath a veil of charm and teasing for years now. I feared that if I revealed my feelings to you, I might lose the friendship that’s become a key part of the foundations of my very existence. With all that we’ve encountered, all that we’ve endured… I cannot lose you. I've spent hours trying to craft clever words and poetic phrases in my mind, but nothing is adequate in truly conveying the depth of my feelings for you.”

She listened intently; her anxious demeanour replaced by a more serious, yet soft expression. The room was charged with vulnerability and anticipation as he continued:

“Hearing you sing…” He sighed peacefully, leaning against the fireplace, “Well, only you could make the intricacies Mozart sound like it was as simple as child’s play, but hearing your voice grace my mother’s lullaby…” His head tilted affectionately towards her, placing a hand tenderly on his heart.

“Merlin, you have bewitched me, body and soul...” He breathed, his eyes locking with hers.

“If music truly is the food of love, you are my ambrosia.”

A once uncomfortable silence now hung peacefully in the air, the only sound the distant rustling of leaves from the Forbidden Forest, accompanied by the subtle crackles of the fireplace. Her eyes glistened, deeply moved as she processed everything that had just been revealed to her.

Taking slow, calculated steps towards him, her fingers reached out to gently trace his cheek.

Finally, she spoke, her voice soft as her lips curled into a smile:

“Who are you, and what have you done with my fiendish cad?”

He shook with laughter, his arms enveloping her in a gentle embrace.

As her hands came to rest easily on his chest, he tucked a stray wisp of hair behind her ear before delicately cupping her cheek.

“May I kiss you?” he whispered; his breath spiced with peppermint.

“Yes…” she sighed elatedly.

As he closed the distance between their lips, time itself paused; allowing them to savour the magic of the moment.

Their first kiss was a gentle dance of vulnerability and passion, a fugue of emotions interwoven and exchanged in the language of touch... Longing, adoration and devotion passed between their lips and through the fingertips that explored and caressed each other. Their connection deepened with each passing second, and with each stolen breath before their lips reunited repeatedly, the universe seemed to affirm their union.

As they pulled away, the eternal moonlight of the Room of Requirement bore witness to the realisation of an extraordinary connection that transcended all magic.

“I’ve wanted to do that for so long…” He crooned, as his thumb traced her jawline.

“How long?” She smiled coyly, wrapping her arms around his neck.

“Since your first cast knocked me to the floor when I was fifteen…”

“There’s my scoundrel…” She purred, as they laughed together giddily, still tenderly wrapped in each other’s arms.

In the stolen moment that followed as they caught their breath, he pressed his forehead to hers.

“I love you.” He smiled tenderly.

“I love you, too.” She replied breathlessly.

Their aura of enamoured bliss was quickly shattered by the tiniest of sighs coming from the doorway, as they realised that they were not alone.

Startled, they quickly broke apart. Sebastian strode forward, wand in hand, the other reaching back to guard her, standing between her and any perceived threat.

He quickly lowered his wand, however, upon seeing their intruder.

“D-Deek!” His voice cracked, as he nervously cleared his throat. A wave of relief washed over them both.

Deek smiled to Sebastian, leaning against the archway as his misty-eyed gaze alternated between the two.

“Now, Deek… I-I want you to know, I have no intention of causing any scandal.” He stammered, straightening his posture and feeling his hands clam up as his mind searched for the speech, intended for her father, he had rehearsed over and over again with Ominis; “I love her and I-I-I wish to properly court her…” He nervously recited.

“It is so wonderful to see the happiness you bring one another.” Deek calmly hushed, the thought of her songs filling the Room of Requirement again bringing a warmth to the House Elf’s chest, before he disappeared in front of their eyes, granting them privacy.

“My, my, Sebastian…” She smirked, slowly striding across the rug to join him, “Who knew such a scoundrel could transform into such a gentleman so rapidly?”

“That’s the magic of love…” He retorted coquettishly, snaking an arm around her waist and slowly spinning her to press her back against the stone archway. “I may be a cad, but I’m a chivalrous cad… Your virtue is no laughing matter to me.”

“A chivalrous cad?!” She cackled in amazement, as she toyed with his emerald and silver tie, “My, what a walking contradiction you are…”

“And what a mesmerising puzzle you are…” He rumbled, lifting her chin to capture her lips once more.

“Perhaps you’ll solve me one day…” She whispered between their lips.

“On the contrary, I’m relying on you to keep surprising me for the rest of my life…” He growled, as their kisses grew increasingly heated, and a soft moan escaped her lips.

Merlin, he pined to himself, that’s a whole new symphony in the making…

Chapter Text

Imelda Raynes was not a witch who was known to tolerate failure.

Whilst they had eventually triumphed over Gryffindor a few weeks prior, the Slytherin team were rusty; their chaser had lagged behind their rival team’s counterpart, their champion beater had concluded the game with a black eye and their Keeper had practically slept through the match…

There was only one thing for it: early morning practice.

As the days became longer and lighter, so the time their feet kicked off the ground became earlier. He didn’t mind it so much… If he timed it just right, he could find himself on his third lap of the stands just as the sun rose over the Castle, the clouds staining the sky in hues of lavender, orange and pink.

If he timed it immaculately, however, he could find himself jogging back towards the Castle just as she was walking through the gardens, towards the pitch, two cups of coffee in her hands.

“Immaculately timed, as usual,” she laughed, as he strode across the green to greet her with a discreet, tender kiss.

“Good morning, my sweet heart.” He beamed, fresh-faced, before taking a cautious sip of the hot coffee she had handed to him. He hummed in pleasant surprise.

“Do I detect a trace of –“

“Nutmeg? Yes, you do.” She smiled.

“You are a goddess among warlocks.” He grinned, as they circled the fountain arm in arm.

It’s not that they were deliberately hiding their courtship, per se… They both just found it far easier to keep matters discreet. Too many prying eyes could lead to unnecessary gossip ringing through the hallways, not to mention the ridiculously exaggerated scandals that tended to follow…

__

“I thought you had a penchant for a bit of scandal?” She had teased him, nursing a glass of Firewhiskey.

“Oh, I’m no stranger to a few shenanigans…” he’d smirked in return, “But, this is different.”

“Oh?”

“If word gets out that I’m courting the Heroine of Hogwarts, I’ll become a living deity! I’ll be lauded through the hallways and… Come to think of it…” He paused, “Remind me why we’re keeping this a secret, again?” He winked.

“I don’t think your inflated ego would be able to fit through the Portcullis if we didn’t…” She’d laughed.

They’d chosen a quiet night to venture out to the Three Broomsticks together. Sirona, being one of a few people in the know, had made up a small, candlelit table for them tucked behind a wall of Butterbeer barrels. She’d insisted, however, that it be positioned to overlook the bar so that she could remain somewhat of a chaperone…

“I’d trust you with my life, Sebastian Sallow…” She’d smiled, shifting a chair, “But not with my pub, or my daughter.”

“We don’t have to, if you don’t want to?” He’d soothed, reaching for her hand, “You know how I feel about you.”

“Erring on the side of caution may not be a bad thing,” She’d responded. “Just until we’ve finished all of our exams.”

“I had to fall for a Ravenclaw…” He’d sighed, shaking his head and gazing at her affectionately.

And so, it had been agreed that courting in secret, for now, was for the best.

Besides, they were no strangers to keeping secrets for each other... It may not have involved Dark Magic, plundering mines and tombs or vanquishing goblins, but this was a whole new kind of adventure for them.

__

He had a different energy to him in these early mornings, she’d noticed. Perhaps it was the years out in the fields of Feldcroft rubbing off on him, but he carried such a refreshing attitude about him after these practices, that even the occasional bludger to the limb couldn’t beat out of him.

“I adore these Spring mornings.” He smiled, affirming her trail of thought.

“And why is that?” She asked.

He paused to contemplate, before shrugging, “I can’t completely explain it, but I suppose it’s the farmhand in me… It’ll be lambing season in Feldcroft around about now.”

He turned to look south of the Castle, a pang of dejection washing over him.

“Do you miss it?” She queried gently.

“Every day.” He sighed.

“Is there nothing that can be-?”

He shook his head. He knew where he stood when it came to his uncle. Despite Anne’s recovery, they had yet to make amends for his resorting to Dark Magic to search for her cure.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered, interlocking her hand with this.

“No, my love, I’m sorry...” He replied, “I was ruthless in my search, and I did so many monstrous things…” He trailed off, his eyes still gazing across the Highlands.

“Come, sit.” She hushed, gently guiding him towards a stone bench that was built into the gently trickling fountain.

“He was right, you know… My father would be ashamed.” He exhaled, his head falling into his hands. “Did I ever tell you why I almost dropped Defence Against the Dark Arts last year?” He queried after a short pause.

“Would you like to share the reason with me?” She soothed, not wishing to pry vulnerable information out of him.

He hesitated, but continued:

“One of our mid-term assessments involved a boggart, you’ll recall…”

She nodded.

“My boggart was… Me.” He croaked. “Well, not me… It was… How I used to be. When I was…”

“Incredibly unwell, Sebastian.” She soothed.

“I was pale, gaunt, surrounded by Inferi… All I could hear was screaming… Your screaming… From that night…”

“The Scriptorium. The Cruciatus Curse.” She realised.

“Merlin, I’ll never forgive myself…” He stifled a sob.

“I’ve forgiven you.”

He turned to look at her in stunned silence.

“So should your uncle.” She continued, “I didn’t know your father, Sebastian, but I understand that he raised you to value knowledge and understanding over everything else, bar love...”

She reached out her hand, gently placing it on top of his own.

“What is the opposite of fear, if not knowledge, understanding and love?” She reasoned, “Magic in itself holds no spectrum of morality whatsoever; that is entirely at the mercy of the caster… You yourself taught me that Unforgivable Curses are only named such, and treated with the gravity that they are, because of the genuine intent that is required to cast one, correct?”

He hesitantly nodded.

“Your intention was only ever to help Anne, by whatever means necessary.” She affirmed. “Your actions were driven by loyalty, love and an insatiable desire to understand how to help her. You never intended to cause anyone pain... Not even in the Scriptorium. Remember, I chose to take that curse... I wasn’t afraid of them, either, Sebastian. I wanted to understand them, too. You had to cast it on me, or else we all would’ve died slow, miserable deaths down there, slowly suffocating whilst sealed into our own tomb. Your curse succeeded because your genuine intention was to keep us alive.”

“The thought of you lying there screaming still haunts me…” He whispered, silent tears running down his cheeks.

“Any pain you were forced to cause me then, you have more than atoned for.” She stated matter-of-factly, before softening her gaze. “Seeing you and Anne both recovered is better than any apology... I’d take it again, if I had to, to ensure that you both stayed safe.”

Unable to form words, he pulled her into a tight embrace. To hell with gossip, he thought.

After a few moments, he pulled far enough away from her to gently caress her cheek as he locked eyes with her.

“I am not a man who often makes promises, but when I do, you’ve seen first-hand the extent to which I will go to keep them…” He professed. “I promise you now, that the rest of my life will be devoted to protecting, honouring and loving you. I will take any curse, drink any potion, face any foe… Not only would I die for you, but I would kill for you, too.”

“It will never come to that.” She replied softly, “You don’t need to worship me, die for me or kill for me… All I ask is that you know me, understand me and love me.”

“Then that is what I vow to do, now and for ever more.” He promised.

A gentle breeze ushered away the last of the morning haze, as beams of sunlight began to dance on the surface of the Black Lake.

“My love, it is Spring...” She smiled, a contented sigh escaping her lips as she rose to her feet and reached for his hand. “And there are lambs arriving in Feldcroft that you’re overdue an introduction to.”

Chapter Text

Upon his banishment from his uncle’s house in their fifth year, Ominis had hesitantly welcomed Sebastian to his family’s home for that summer.

“It’s not that you’re not welcome… Of course you are. It’s just, well, you know how I feel about them, Sebastian... But, I suppose, your being there would make it far more bearable. Besides, it’s about time I returned the favour for all those summers in Feldcroft…” He’d murmured.

Those quiet months had been spent pouring over the literary treasures held in the Gaunt Library, along with a few ferocious rounds of Gobstones, keeping out of sight of the more senior members of the House of Gaunt.

Ominis had awoken in the early hours of a late July morning to a gentle tapping on the glass of his window. Grabbing his wand, he’d tentatively eased the latch as a flurry of feathers had rustled past his ear. He negotiated the parcel out of the tawny owl’s beak and gently unwrapped the immaculately packaged bundle to reveal a small booklet, accompanied by a note:

A small token from London to keep you both out of mischief…

They’d spent the following day engulfed in the pages of their gift, solving the case along with the Muggle detective and his companion.

“Are there any more stories from this Watson fellow?” Sebastian mused, as Ominis turned the final page.

“Arthur Conan Doyle…” Ominis corrected him “Dr. Watson is the character who happens to be narrating.”

“Riveting stuff, regardless.” Sebastian chuckled.

When Sebastian had come of age and inherited his parents’ home in Aranshire the following year, he and Ominis had taken up residence there together. It became something of a sanctuary for them both. Sebastian took to working back in the fields over in Feldcroft to cover the costs of some minor renovations due to some ‘spider-related damages’ from its previous assigned caretaker, preventing the neglected house from falling into disrepair. Ominis had waited until Sebastian was dispatched to work before venturing into the cellar to clear out the webs and tenderly pack away the remaining personal belongings of his parents, not wishing to cause his friend any further upset.

They had decided that the next port of call, after extending the house to include some additional ground-floor rooms, was to extend into the further attic space available, adding to the staircase and renovating it into two bedrooms, then turning the first-floor bedroom into a study.

As Ominis had conjured the last box of Sallow family heirlooms up the stairs, a flick of Sebastian’s wand flung all the windows open simultaneously, letting in the warm, summer breeze.

“A bit of ventilation goes a long way…” He’d smiled bittersweetly, as Ominis had gently placed a comforting hand on his shoulder.

As Ominis placed the last few scrolls and tomes into the final gaps in the bookshelves, Sebastian adjusted the last few picture frames perched on the dark oak desks before slumping into a leather armchair that was angled towards the small log burner they’d installed.

“Is that everything?” Ominis queried, joining him in the adjacent armchair.

“Not quite,” Sebastian sighed, gently massaging his temples, “I haven’t even begun to think about décor… Wallpapers, carpets… There’s so much brick and bare clay…”

“Not quite sure how much help I’ll be with that.” Ominis chuckled, as Sebastian returned one of his signature smirks, “But I must say, given the rather eight-legged state you inherited it in, you’ve done wonderfully. I’d much rather it be a blank canvas than a webbed one...”

“I have no idea who this Mary Portman woman was, let alone how she came to be the caretaker of the estate, but I’ll be eternally grateful to whoever it was that dealt with all those spiders.” Sebastian smiled, as his eyes fell upon the gentle flickers of the fire.

“Perhaps a more feminine gaze is required to help you decorate?” Ominis prodded, settling back into the armchair.

“Visiting a man’s home alone? You know that wouldn’t be deemed appropriate…” Sebastian retorted.

“So do it properly then, for Merlin’s sake.” Ominis scolded, leaning over to place a small box containing the final heirloom he had recovered into Sebastian’s hands.

The Wizarding World was a funny place. In many ways, it was significantly more forward-thinking than its Muggle counterpart; love was not confined to genders, nor was its expression strictly confined to wedlock. However, to maintain discretion, wizards generally chose to keep to a similar code of conduct.

“After all,” Faris Spavin, Minister for Magic, had stated: “we cannot risk the delicate veils between our worlds being unravelled by such simple matters of etiquette.”

Sebastian’s fingers traced affectionately over the familiar box, imagining how its contents would shimmer on her finger in the same way it had on his mother’s.

“We’ve both known since that night in Salazar’s Scriptorium that she’s the only witch who could ever wield it.” His companion smiled.

“Ominis, I’m so sorry,” he’d replied. “I’ve never properly apologised to you for putting us in that situation…”

“It gave me hope.” Ominis interrupted, “In finding my aunt, I realised that I wasn’t alone in my disdain for my family’s actions, and you two together… Well, that gave me hope, too. For you.” He chuckled.

As the golden hours of the afternoon lilted into the restful dusk of early evening, Butterbeers had turned to Firewhiskey as the two bachelors put the world to rights from their seats. Their tipsy lull was interrupted by the delicate chirps of a very familiar little tawny owl.

‘Ah, I wondered when you might make an appearance!” Sebastian had smiled, reaching into his pocket to feed their visitor a well-earned treat before reaching to take the package hanging from its beak.

“Hello, poppet…” He cooed, scratching the tiny owl’s head.

“Sounds like quite a hefty load for such a small bird!” Ominis had remarked, as Sebastian placed the unwrapped booklet on the nearby desk with a gentle thud.

His fingers graced the printings of the copy of The Strand Magazine, as a warm smile graced his lips:

A Scandal in Bohemia.

“I know exactly where this is going…” He crooned.

He placed the magazine on the windowsill above his desk with pride, alongside the note that read:

My warmest wishes to the newest Master and occupants of the Sallow Estate... This should keep you both occupied until we return to Hogwarts.

His hand reached into the pocket of his tartan waistcoat, his thumb gently stroking the lid of the box that lay enclosed in it.

“Do you think she’ll have me, one day?” He queried, turning to his friend.

“For all of our sakes, I certainly hope so...” Ominis snorted.

Chapter Text

As the sounds of gentle bleating rang across the fields of Feldcroft, ewes and their respective lambs nestled together; settling in for the cool, Spring evening that had begun to wash across the Highlands.

As a serene calm shrouded the pastures, one farmhand persisted.

“Come on, little one…” Sebastian hissed, vigorously rubbing the still lamb’s chest with a coarse towel, “You can do it. You’re a fighter, I can feel it.”

As the newborn’s limbs suddenly flailed into action, he huffed a sigh of relief, before turning to reunite it with its panicked mother.

“There you go, girl... It’s over to you, now.”

As the ewe nestled into its mother to feed, he rose to his feet, mopped the sweat from his brow, and headed for the nearest water pump. Cranking the handle, his defined shoulders and biceps sent a tingle through her spine. She watched in awe as he rinsed his hands of blood before splashing his freckled face, his signature grin escaping his lips as one of the local farmers greeted him with an assuring pat on the back.

“I can’t thank you enough for coming to help us, Sebastian.”

“I’m only sorry I didn’t come sooner.”

“Might your absence have anything to do with the lovely young witch accompanying you today?” The farmer shot him a knowing look.

“Figured I needed to get this wee town mouse adjusted to country life sooner rather than later…” he replied, stealing a loving glance at her.

“Don’t you go getting gentrified on us,” he cackled, as Sebastian rolled down his sleeves and bade the farmer a cheerful goodbye.

His windswept locks held the faintest tint of auburn in the Spring sunset, as his fitted shirt clung flatteringly to his chiselled form. His tweed trousers splattered in mud, he truly was a breath-taking sight to behold.

“That was phenomenal.” She gasped as he vaulted over the gate to greet her.

“Well, you certainly won’t get that in Care of Magical Creatures,” he smirked, tenderly kissing her cheek.

“Country life suits you,” she smirked back, glancing him over.

“Well then, you’d better get used to it, mo ghraidh…” He crooned into her neck, his breath tickling her ear.

“You know I can’t resist the Gaelic.” She sighed, melting into his strong frame.

“Swept off your feet by a rogue Celt, eh? My, how they’ll talk in London…” He chuckled devilishly, tilting her chin with his thumb, leaning in to close the distance between their lips…

“Ahem.” A familiar voice cleared their throat, as they both turned to grin at her.

“Anne!” He beamed, his stocky, athletic frame embracing his petite sister, “It’s so good to see you again.”

“It’s only been a fortnight,” she laughed, “and you’ll see me again in a matter of days, back at the Castle!”

“It’s not the same without either of you there during the holidays,” she sighed, smiling at the twins.

“You mean you don’t find any relief in being rid of him for a few weeks?” Anne teased.

“I said it wasn’t the same, I didn’t say it wasn’t peaceful…” She smirked, linking arms with the Sallow sister as they started towards her uncle’s residence.

“How are things?” Sebastian queried, digging his hands into his pockets awkwardly and clearing his throat as he nodded towards his former residence.

“Quiet,” she answered truthfully.

“You know you’re always welcome to come home.” He stated soothingly.

“I know you two didn’t see eye to eye, but he took such good care of us as children, and me when I was so unwell,” she replied, “the least I can do now that I’m recovered is return the favour.”

“Is he unwell?” Sebastian queried.

“No, but he’s not exactly a spring chicken, is he?” Anne sighed, as the party reached the pathway to Solomon Sallow’s cottage. An awkward pause lingered in the air.

“Well… I’ll see you soon, Anne.” She smiled.

“Looking forward to being back,” Anne replied, returning her sentiments as she turned to embrace her brother.

“Take care, little one.” He sighed reluctantly.

“You’re three minutes older than me…” She rolled her eyes as she headed up the pathway, “Then again, perhaps I’ll be gaining a younger sister of my own, soon enough...” She smirked knowingly, as a stern-faced Solomon Sallow lingered in the now-open doorway. As she dissolved into the shadows of the hallway, he gave them a curt nod, before turning to disappear back inside.

Sebastian sighed through gritted teeth.

“Come away, love,” she whispered to him, gently pulling at his arm, “don’t let him spoil your seeing Anne.”

“Go on ahead towards Hogwarts, darling,” he whispered tenderly, “I’ll catch up with you shortly.”

She hesitated, before reluctantly returning to the dirt-trodden road that headed North towards the valley.

His jaw clenched as he strode up to the doorway, slamming the knocker against the pine. As he heard the key turn in the lock, he bundled his fists back into his pockets irritably.

“Uncle,” he hissed, “a word.”

“I don’t want to hear any more from you, Sebast-“

“It’s not about me,” he interjected, “I’m my own man, now. It’s about her… The one who, you’ll recall, saved your niece’s life last year. The one whom you still choose to treat so coldly, in spite of the fact that we are all indebted to her.”

“I don’t know what kind of monstrosities she resorted to, but-“

“There were no monstrosities, Solomon, her brilliance cured my sister.”

“I don’t want to discuss this any-“

“Then I’ll make my point and be on my way. You’re going to gain a family member, whether you like it or not.” He thundered.

Shock drained Solomon’s face as his nephew’s words set in.

“You haven’t…”

“Merlin, no!” Sebastian rebuffed, disgusted at the implication of such impropriety, “We may not see eye to eye, but you at least raised me to be a gentleman... You’re gaining a niece. I’m going to marry her.”

As the colour gradually returned to the Elder Sallow’s face, he murmured an awkward “congratulations.”

“I don’t care if you want anything to do with me, but if you want anything to do with your late brother’s future grandchildren, I’d strongly suggest you start treating her with the kindness and gratitude that she deserves.” He scorned, “Lest you forget that she saved both Anne and me from succumbing to Dark Magic.”

He turned on his heel to depart, as Solomon called back to him.

“… It really wasn’t Dark Magic?” He questioned hesitantly.

“No.” He stated firmly. “It was something beyond any of our comprehensions… That came from someone that my father, your brother, would have been proud to call his daughter-in-law. Perhaps there will come a time when you’ll regret not being able to have seen that.”

And with that closing statement, he departed.

He sighed to himself as the soft Highland breeze tousled his hair. His mind mulling restlessly over the last four years…

He thought his life had ended the day that curse had struck his sister.

The subsequent years he had spent searching endlessly for a cure; the answer always eluding him, teetering on a knife’s edge, just out of reach. Plagued by malicious whispers of a relic that demanded a dark sacrifice, he had thought his only solution was to delve deeper into death and destruction…

But then, she’d appeared. In doing so, she’d brought him back to life. She’d brought his sister back to life.

Now, as he followed the winding path down into the valley, he found himself staring at the distant outline of Hogwarts, bathing in the last light of spring, surrounded by all that was life.

The day his letter had arrived, he’d felt his chest swell with pride; being at Hogwarts meant being close to them again. He would spend hours pouring over every book in the Library his arms could reach. As he’d traced the spines, he would wonder if either of them had studied those very same pages.

He was an incredibly intelligent man; not only through his years of devouring every book he could lay his hands on, but he was also remarkably savvy. He carried the best of both of them within him… He thought on his feet and his curiosity never failed to be indulged. He learnt as he went. He’d risen through the ranks to become one of the fiercest duellists to ever grace the halls of Hogwarts, and then he’d met her.

Perhaps she was one final blessing, sent directly from them?

He pictured all of them there, together; his father laughing with her about some devilish in-joke they’d concocted, his mother exchanging books and songs with her… The songs that would one day lull their children to sleep as she hummed them sweet lullabies.

Everything about her had transformed all that he had once feared to be dead into new life.

Even now, as he found himself only a few paces behind her, he paused and took a moment to take her in, in all her glory; her cobalt and copper tartan skirt billowing in the wind, her flaming red hair in soft, loose curls that cascaded down her back.

Like a phoenix, he mused, she has risen us all from the ashes…

Chapter Text

As the bells chimed on that early afternoon hour, the doors to the Great Hall finally opened, letting in a refreshing wave of summer air.

Massaging the cramp out of her writing hand, she cast one final eye over the seventeen-page essay that lay pristinely on her desk, the magnum opus of her academic life, before collecting her materials and joining the flurry of students pouring out into the Courtyard to celebrate.

Four long weeks of nail-biting, extra coffees and frantic studying had finally concluded.

“It’s utterly pointless, them keeping us here for the next month!” Garreth moaned.

“Well, given that we don’t officially have our NEWTs until then, I’d wager it’s worth sticking around.” Samantha reasoned.

“Not to mention the Graduate Ball.” Natty sighed dreamily.

Oh Merlin, she sighed to herself. She’d forgotten about that.

As was annual Hogwarts tradition, a Graduate Ball was held at the school in honour of the seventh years competing their studies. It served not only as a celebration of their academic achievements, but also a networking event; invitations were extended to respectable wizards and witches across a variety of professions, with whom graduates were not only encouraged, but expected to mingle.

For seventh-year witches, as they had completed their formal education, this event was also understood to be their ‘coming out’ into Wizarding society, at which they may expect to meet a suitor, should they so wish.

“Hang on a minute!” Garreth called to her as she departed for Ravenclaw Tower. She paused, allowing him to catch up to her.

“Yes, Garreth?” She smiled.

“You made off in such a rush… I was hoping to get a chance to talk to you about something...” He puffed nervously.

“Of course! What’s on your mind?”

“Well, you see… About the Ball…” He stammered, “You know I’ve always thought highly of you, and I truly cherish the wonderful friendship that’s blossomed between us…”

“As do I, Garreth. We’ve come a long way since the debacle with that fwooper feather in fifth-year potions,” she smirked, as he let out a nervous chuckle.

“Yes, we have! Well, if you find yourself… In need of someone to… Accompany you… Then, I would be…”

He was cut off by a blur of emerald green robes.

“There you are!” Sebastian chirped, grabbing her hand, “I’ve got a surprise for you! Come with me…”

“Sebastian,” Garreth frowned, “I was sort of in the middle of someth-”

“Ah well, bye, Garreth!” He called back cheerfully from halfway down the corridor, red-headed witch in tow.

“And where exactly are you in such a hurry to take me?” She laughed breathlessly as they strode down yet another long corridor, past the entrance to the Slytherin Common Room, continuing towards the old Dungeons of the Castle.

“You’ll see.” He grinned back at her.

They rounded another corner before they came face to face with a gated doorway. Sebastian cast a hushed Alohomora, before quickly ushering her through.

She gasped as the hallway unfolded into a midnight-hued abandoned ballroom; candelabras flickered with dim, blue flames as long-neglected tapestries clung desperately to the walls by their last remaining threads.

“It’s… Beautiful,” she whispered in awe.

“Peaceful, mysterious, abandoned, shrouded in mystery… I knew you’d love it,” he smirked.

“Where exactly am I so enamoured by?”

“This,” he smiled, striding into the centre of the room, “is the Deathday Party Room.”

“And whose Deathday are we celebrating?” She mused.

“That’s not why we’re here…” He smiled affectionately, before taking her by the hand and leading her across the ballroom.

“Some last-minute dance lessons?”

“Oh, darling, you have no idea what I’m capable of in a ballroom…” He crooned flirtatiously, before bringing them to a halt in front of a small, ornate pianoforte in the corner.

“What a gorgeous instrument…” She smiled, inspecting it closer; traces of gold leaf brushed delicately across ornate carvings in the dark wood. “It’s enchanting.”

“It’s enchanted, too,” he beamed.

“How do you know that?” She smiled curiously, sitting at the keys.

“Because I’m the one that enchanted it,” he replied, puffing out his chest with pride. “It’ll play anything you like.”

She turned her focus to the keys, envisioning her hands resting above an opening chord of some Chopin…

“Aah, a sublime choice,” he complimented, as gentle nocturnes began to fill the room. “Although I’m more of a Schubert man, myself.”

“You’ve been doing your homework.” She laughed, impressed.

“It’s important to you, therefore it’s important to me.” He smiled, tilting his head affectionately towards her. “Besides, my parents loved music, too.”

“They did?”

“Oh, yes. I saw my father cast this same enchantment on the piano my mother had. They liked to have it playing whilst they worked…” He looked over his handiwork lovingly. “This poor old thing had been abandoned for years… Needed some sprucing up.”

“It’s beautiful, Sebastian,” she said tenderly.

“A beautiful siren, with a beautiful voice, needs a beautiful piano…” He reasoned. “I wanted you to have somewhere all to yourself where you could share your gifts if you wanted to, no singing toads need apply...”

“Won’t the ghosts feel a little irked?” She queried, “After all, I am intruding on their Deathday Party Room…”

“On the contrary,” he grinned mischievously, “they’re awaiting your first recital with great anticipation.”

“Sebastian!” She hissed, “You promised you wouldn’t tell-”

“Another living soul,” he interrupted, “yes, my love… But you mentioned nothing about our dear friends who aren’t living. How does a lunchtime performance on Wednesday sound?”

__

“There you are! I’ve been looking for you everywhere!” Ominis cried exasperatedly, as Sebastian swooned into the Slytherin Common Room, still intoxicated by the melodies that had shimmered out of her earlier that day and continued to lilt through his head.

“Apologies, dear friend,” he sighed as he folded dreamily into a black leather armchair, “I took in a concert this afternoon… What’s troubling you?”

“Where on earth did you? … Never mind,” Ominis hesitated, before continuing: “I need to ask you something about this Graduate Ball that’s coming up.”

“Ominis, I’m flattered, but you know my heart is elsewhere…” He smirked playfully.

“Not that...” He groaned irritably, “It’s about… Anne.”

Sebastian sat up, turning to give his friend his full attention.

“We’re both aware that this is an important event for the witches we’ve had the pleasure of studying with these last seven years… ” He remarked. “We’re also both aware that Anne is in an almost-unique position, regarding the… Interruption… To her studies.”

Sebastian nodded understandingly.

“I want her to feel… Safe. I know she’s excited, but even I can see that she’s nervous, too.” He continued, “I hoped that she might feel more at ease and able to enjoy herself if she were escorted by someone she knew, someone she trusted…”

“Ominis,” he smiled, “are you asking my permission to escort my sister to the Ball?”

“I thought it more fitting to ask you rather than your uncle.”

He hummed contentedly, a warmth sinking comfortably into his stomach at the thought of his sister on the arm of his dearest friend.

“You’ve always been a brother to me,” he affirmed, “there is no-one I’d be happier to grant permission to.”

“In which case,” Ominis grinned, “we’d better get to Hogsmeade tomorrow... I’m in need of new robes.”

__

“Merlin, I feel like a mannequin.” Sebastian groaned, pulling a stray pin out of his shirt collar as they departed Gladrags the following afternoon, each armed with a new set of dress robes.

“It wasn’t that bad,” Ominis stated.

“Speak for yourself!” He cried, “You’re not the one who was ruthlessly impaled by hundreds of miniature daggers.”

“Such a country bumpkin,” he chuckled, as they wandered towards the Three Broomsticks, “The fine artistry of a good tailor is apparently lost on you.”

As she saw the two familiar figures appear through the doors of the pub, Anne called over to them to join their table. As they brought over a round of Butterbeers, Sebastian’s blood turned to ice as his eyes locked on to a certain redheaded witch.

“What in Merlin’s name are you wearing?”

“This?” She queried, pointing to the golden and scarlet woollen jumper, “Leander offered it to me after a barrel of Butterbeer leaked over my robes.”

“Again, I’m so sorry about that, love,” Sirona sighed. “These,” she gestured to the Butterbeers, “are on the house today.”

“That’s not the only thing Leander offered…” Anne snickered.

“What does that mean?” Sebastian rumbled, cocking an eyebrow.

“Well,” she murmured sheepishly, “He told me that you were escorting Anne to the Graduate Ball…”

“Absolutely not.” The Sallow twins retorted in unison.

“I’m not escorting her,” Sebastian snorted, “Ominis is.”

“… He is?” Anne queried, turning to the wizard in question.

“Well…” Ominis stuttered, “Only if you’d like me to?”

“I… I would.” She blushed.

“Well then, yes,” He smiled tenderly, “I’d be honoured to accompany you.”

“And I’m accompanying you.” Sebastian stated, returning his attention to her.

“Oh! You are?” Her cheeks turning as red as her hair.

“Who else would I take?!” He asked.

“It’s just that I thought you were… And you didn’t ask me… So, I said yes to…” She trailed off.

“PREWETT!” He bellowed, turning to the table of Gryffindors in the corner of the room, “This is a new low, tricking witches into going to the Ball with you? Are you really not capable of obtaining a partner on merit?”

“I don’t see what it’s got to do with you, Sallow.” Leander retorted, rising from his seat to meet Sebastian as he stormed over to the table, “Unless, of course, the rumours are true…”

“What rumours?” He spat.

“That there really is a serpent guarding the raven’s nest…” He smirked, as Sebastian reached for the Gryffindor’s collar, grabbing him by the tie.

“Outside.” He hissed through gritted teeth, pulling Leander out of the wooden doors.

“No, no…” Ominis soothed, as she rose anxiously from her seat to intervene, “Enjoy your free Butterbeers and let the boys play outside for a little while.”

“Honestly, Sebastian, I really don’t think this calls for- Merlin’s Beard!” Leander cried, as a ferocious bolt of red magic shot past his ear.

“Consider that your warning cast.” Sebastian growled, raising his wand.

“Sebastian, I don’t have a death wish,” he stammered, raising his hands, “I know better than to cross wands with you over a girl!” He shrieked, as another red bolt cracked out of Sebastian’s wand and narrowly whistled over his shoulder. “If you’re genuinely courting her, of course I won’t intervene, but I had no idea...”

“Moving forward, keep your mouth shut about her personal affairs, and your bloody Quidditch jumper to yourself.” He warned with one final glare, tucking his wand back into his robes before returning to The Three Broomsticks.

As Sebastian flung the oak doors open, a tense silence fell over the tables as all eyes followed him in anticipation.

“Let’s get one thing straight,” He rumbled, a smug glint in his eyes as he strode confidently back over to his party, “the only Quidditch jumper you ever need to don is mine.”

With a flick of his wand, the gold and scarlet garment dissolved, as a cool wash of green and silver wool suddenly enveloped her upper body.

Sebastian cast his eye around the room, as hushed whispers began to ricochet around the tavern, before clearing his throat loudly, commanding the room into silence once more.

“So,” he turned to her, a roguish combination of love, devotion and possessiveness sparkling in his gaze as he extended his hand to her, “are you going to this Ball with me, or not?”

A wry smile graced her lips as she took his hand, allowing him to pull her to her feet.

“Yes, you utter moron.” She responded, as the room erupted into encouraging cheers.

“Stellar work, Sallow!” Imelda grinned triumphantly.

“He certainly knows how to make a statement…” Poppy chuckled at a table across the room.

“And about time, too.” Natty nodded in agreement beside her.

“Kiss her, you lucky bastard!” Eric Northcott bellowed.

Garreth caught Sebastian’s eye, giving him a respectful nod, which Sebastian returned.

“Looks like the best man won.” Garreth shrugged, smiling to himself.

Sebastian turned to her with a mischievous smirk, wrapping an arm around her waist as the rabble continued.

“What do you say we finally give them something worthwhile to talk about, eh?”

“Thought you’d never ask.” She grinned, as he gently spun her around the bar before tenderly dipping her and pressing his lips to hers.

“I’ve never been so grateful to be blind in my entire life” Ominis sighed, earning a laugh from Anne, who looked on fondly, nonetheless.

“Cough up, Weasley,” Lucan Brattleby chuckled to Hector, “you owe me four Sickles.”

Chapter Text

“I’m so sorry I didn’t ask you properly this afternoon…” He whispered tenderly between kisses, as the soft candlelight of the Room of Requirement delicately framed their faces.

“Are you joking?!” She chuckled, lying back on the sofa to allow him to lean gently over her. “Duelling another wizard in a jealous rage? That’s the most stereotypically Sallow invitation to a Ball I could’ve imagined…”

“I wasn’t going to stand idly by and let Leander Prewett stand on your toes and sweat profusely over your dress all night,” he snorted, before his lips softened into a mischievous smirk. “Come to think of it, I wasn’t planning on letting any other wizard within six feet of you ever again…” He growled tenderly against her lips, letting his hands caress her waist.

“My, how possessive of you…” She moaned softly, igniting a fire that ached in his core.

“Do you like the thought of that?” He asked her coyly, pressing kisses into her jawline, “Being mine, and mine alone?”

“I am yours,” she purred, unbuttoning his collar, “and yours alone…” She promised, tracing her lips down his neck.

Merlin’s fucking beard, he thought to himself as he attempted to keep his composure, this woman will be the death of me...

Every nerve ending in his body was screaming for him to have his way with her; to give over to his natural urges and claim her body as his own, to allow himself to drown in her intoxicating moans, to hear her plead and beg and call out out his name as their bodies intertwined. But his heart urged him to wait… For her sake.

As Ominis had chastised him the previous year, “do it properly...” He thought to himself.

“My love,” he hesitantly croaked, “stop.”

“What’s wrong?” she asked, immediately coming to a halt, concern flooding her features.

Even when her face is full of worry, she is nothing short of sheer perfection... He sighed to himself.

“We can’t, my darling.” He sighed, “It’s not right.”

“It’s not right for two people who love each other to be able to physically express that?” She questioned impatiently.

“Of course it is, but…”

“But what?” She asked, “What is it, Sebastian?” She looked up at him with a mixture of confusion, hurt and longing pooling in her deep amber eyes.

“Merlin, woman…” he exhaled, “you have no idea of the things you do to me… The things I want to do to you…” He growled, both aroused and exasperated, as he stood, ran his hands through his hair and turned to lean on the mantle of the fireplace. The veil of silence that fell between them was charged with an unspoken longing.

“I love you, and of course I want to… Physically express that.” He said softly, “But I meant it when I said that your virtue is no laughing matter to me. You heard how vulgar Leander was in The Three Broomsticks today… I can’t let anyone say those sorts of things about you.”

“This isn’t the Muggle World, Sebastian,” she sighed, rising from her seat to close the distance between them, reaching her hand tenderly to cradle his cheek, “this is the Wizarding World… Where we honour that these matters are far more complex than simply being ‘right’ or ‘wrong’…”

He sighed in conflicted agreement, placing his own, larger hand over where hers rested on his face, before gently pressing her palm repeatedly to his lips.

“And this…” She nodded to the Room of Requirement, “This is our world. Our sanctuary… Where our souls are free to interweave and love without reservation.” She soothed, as his head tilted to meet her loving gaze.

“You’re certain about this?” He asked.

“I love you, Sebastian Sallow,” she whispered tenderly. “I want to be yours… Completely.”

And with that sentence, the last of his resolve wavered.

Merlin, how he adored when she used his full name…

Within a matter of seconds, she was in his arms. Their kisses heated and passionate, her hands ran through his hair as he caressed her curves.

“Be careful what you wish for, darling,” he snarled against her neck, “or else you’re not going to be in any state to dance at that Ball…”

 “Try me.” She retaliated, locking his lips against hers and returning her attention to his shirt buttons.

As the warmth of his bare torso pressed against her front, she felt the cool stone wall press against her back. Her nails dug gently into his shoulder blades; leaving red streaks down his back as a feral growl escaped his lips and he pressed his clothed arousal firmly against her shrouded heat. As he tore her blouse open, a honeyed moan rang through her chest. He placed tender, longing kisses on the swell of her breasts as he made short work of her corset.

“Sebastian…” She moaned longingly, as their lips reunited hungrily and their bare torsos pressed together.

“You’re perfect.” He whispered, as their hips found an unspoken rhythm, grinding against each other, and his hands tenderly caressed her breasts.

They were snapped out of their haze of lust and arousal by the sound of crumbling stone. He pulled her close, wrapping his arms around her to guard her from whatever might loom, before turning his attention to the wall opposite, where a new wooden door had suddenly appeared. His eyes not moving from the wall, he sourced and presented his shirt to her, before drawing his wand from his trouser pocket.

“Stay here,” he soothed, as he walked over to examine the newfound door.

As she anxiously wrapped his shirt around her chest, he pushed the door to, pausing for a moment to scan the elegant stone archway, before walking through.

A few moments passed, before she heard him exhale in relief.

“Sebastian?” She called.

“It’s alright, my love.” He soothed, before reappearing with a gentle smile. Leaning in the doorway, his strong build glistening softly in the warm candlelight, he extended his hand in invitation for her to come closer, which she took.

Pulling her close, he recaptured her lips before suddenly looping his arm under her legs to carry her in a bridal hold over the threshold, into the mysterious new room.

As her eyes adjusted to the dimly candlelit space, she found herself gently embraced by soft pillows and sheets, as he laid her down delicately on the queen-sized canopy bed. Illuminated by moonlight, he removed his trousers and lay beside her in his undergarments, his hand caressing her bare torso as she turned on her side to face him.

“Are you sure you want to do this out of wedlock?” He asked her lovingly.

“Will it change your opinion of me?” She responded.

He tenderly cupped her cheek. “Never.” He whispered.

His body resting on top of hers, he traced gentle kisses up her neck and across her jawline before their lips met, as her arms wrapped around his neck.

“Make me yours and yours alone, dear heart.” She moaned against his lips, awakening an untamed lust that intoxicated him as he tore away her remaining garments in a blur. All that remained were soft, grey stockings that clung around her thighs, tied with dainty satin ribbon.

He sat up, rising out of his lustful haze to take in every curve of her body, his deep brown eyes pouring over her with love and awe.

“Perfection…” He sighed, as he gazed into her eyes with a soft smile. “You’re beautiful...” He whispered into her soft skin, beginning to trace hungry kisses up the inside her soft thighs.

The little hitch in her breath he felt as he brought his lips to her tenderness made his heart melt. He discovered that the perfect combinations of gentle flicks and circles with his tongue, along with delicate suction of her most sensitive spot, brought out the sweetest melodies in her that he had ever heard. As he lightly traced his fingers over and around her folds, he revelled in her tender moans, before he lightly pressed two fingers into her warmth, building up a gentle rhythm as both his fingers and tongue continued to worship her.

“S-Sebastian…” she trembled, feeling the involuntary twitching in her thighs begin to quicken. He hummed in approval.

“Oh, Sebastian…” she howled beautifully, her voice rich with lust, as her hips began to buck against him and her back arched.

“That’s it, my love,” he whispered against her body as he felt her reach the peak of her climax, “you can go there, that’s a good girl…”

The wave of her orgasm ripped through her as she screamed out his name in pure ecstasy. Her hips rolled against his hand repeatedly, as her mind was washed blank by mind-numbing pleasure.

“Oh, you are a goddess…” He moaned, drowning in his overpowering arousal, kissing up her torso and sternum, between her soft breasts, as she breathlessly whimpered, tears brimming in her eyes, overwhelmed by the potency of her climax.

“It’s alright, my darling,” he soothed, enveloping her in his arms and kissing her tenderly, “I’ve got you… I’m here… I love you... I’m here…”

“I love you…” She whispered into his neck, wrapping her legs around his torso as he held her, pressing her incredibly sensitive core against the thin layer of fabric that obstructed their true union.

“I need you.” She moaned breathlessly.

He discarded his final garment in an instant, before slowly kissing her neck and gently guiding himself into her as she cried out his name. He caressed her cheek and whispered doting affirmations against her ear as their bodies effortlessly fell into a natural tempo, rising to meet one another, and they gazed tenderly into one another’s eyes. Between passionate kisses, their lips exchanged symphonies of moans, gasps and adoring encouragement.

“You feel even better than I imagined you would…” he moaned devotedly, his breath tickling her neck.

“Deeper, my love,” she begged, one hand resting in his hair, the other caressing his shoulder, “I need to feel all of you.”

A visceral growl ripped through his chest, as he grabbed her hips and shifted the weight of his body forward, penetrating deeper and harder with every thrust. He purred with satisfaction as he heard her whimpering cries of unfathomable pleasure.

“That’s it,” his crooning voice rippled next to her ear, “that’s my good girl… My good girl… Oh, my darling girl… You take me so well… My perfect love…”

“I’m yours, Sebastian…” she gasped between cries of bliss.

“You’re mine,” he hissed into her collarbone before increasing the pace of his thrusting, “now and for ever more.”

His hips crashed into her over and over again, faster and deeper, as she dug her nails into his back. Reaching his hand between their bodies, his fingers began to circle and stimulate her most tender spot. He felt her tightening around him as her breaths hitched in her chest.

“Are you close, my love?” He whispered.

Unable to form words, she simply nodded between gasps.

“Don’t be afraid, my sweet heart,” he soothed her in ragged breaths, as his own climax began to build, “I’ve got you. You can let it happen.”

“Sebastian…” She mewled, throwing her head back into the pillows. As he released into her, her hips ground into him and they rode the wave of their shared ecstasy together, exchanging hungry, passionate kisses as they relished in the ebbing ripples of their mutual pleasure.

He placed a tender kiss on her forehead as he slowly rolled to reposition them on their sides, still enveloped in each other’s arms, basking in their fully satiated and utterly enamoured bliss.

He observed the way her chest rose and fell so tenderly as he felt her falling asleep in his arms and sighed contentedly. His beautiful, perfect girl slowly falling into a slumber, her sweet breath gently tickling his broad, freckled chest, he reached for the bedsheets and gently draped them over their intertwined bodies.

“You truly are my everything, my own dear love…” He whispered, pressing another delicate kiss to her forehead, before allowing a mellow calm to wash over him and the sound of her breathing to lull his own eyes shut.

Chapter Text

He awoke, not in his usual dormitory, but with three unfamiliar elements added to his morning routine; the softness of the mattress, the warmth of her body, still pressed against his, and the scent of lavender lingering in her hair.

He hadn’t dreamt it.

He smiled to himself, pulling her closer into his chest and running his fingers through her unruly locks. He let out a breathy chuckle, recalling every morning for the last two years; when she would arrive in Great Hall ensuring she looked pristine, her hair normally charmed into some form of smoothed bun or plait, and how his heart would skip a beat the moment he’d lay eyes on her from across the room…

And yet, in this moment, she looked more beautiful than ever.

He pressed gentle kisses to her temple as her eyes flickered open.

“Good morning, my love.” He greeted tenderly.

“Good morning,” she smiled in return, reaching up to capture his lips with her own.

Returning her kiss with enthusiasm, he enveloped her in his arms, as she looped hers around his neck. Rolling her onto her back, he gently lay himself on top of her as their kisses deepened.

“Good morning…” she repeated in a coy murmur, as she felt his stiffness press against her softness. His chest rumbled with a chuckle.

“I’m beginning to suspect that you’ve used that Ancient Magic of yours to enchant this bed and trap me here forever…” He purred devilishly between her lips. “All I can do now is lie here and make love to you, over and over again…”

“Succumb to your fate, Mr. Sallow.” She smirked seductively.

“Oh, you wicked girl…” He growled, pushing into her as a throaty moan escaped her lips.

__

“You’ll have to release me from this divine prison at some point, you know…” He smirked, taking a sip of freshly conjured coffee, as they basked in their post-coital bliss.

“But you make such a divine prisoner…” She chuckled flirtatiously, reaching over him to pour herself a cup.

“Marriage material already…” He quipped, seizing the opportunity to cup her breasts in his hands as she leaned over him, making her squirm and giggle as he showered them with kisses.

“Ah- Merlin!” She hissed suddenly, dropping the cup of steaming hot coffee and promptly pressing her hand to her lips.

Immediately sensing the change in her tone, he sat up, pulling her into his lap.

“Let me see,” he hushed tenderly, prying her burnt hand away from her. “Oh, darling,” he sighed, examining the blotch of hot, irritated pink skin on the back of her hand.

“It’ll be alright,” she bluffed, not wanting him to fuss.

“Don’t lie to me, you troublesome nymph…” he scolded playfully, reaching for his wand before placing her hand in front of it. He murmured a familiar incantation and jets of cool air began to soothe her burn. As the irritation began to subside, he placed a gentle kiss on her hand, before summoning her another cup of coffee with another flick of his wand.

She hummed in satisfaction as the fresh coffee passed her lips.

“I think you may have just earned your freedom…” She smiled, pecking him on the lips as he stroked her bare back reassuringly.

__

“You must be famished, love...” He called to her, adjusting his tie and smoothing his now-repaired shirt, “What do you say we head to the Great Hall for breakfast?”

“Sounds like an excellent idea,” she replied from the bedroom, swigging the last dregs of her freshly brewed Morning-After potion before heading out to join him in the main room.

As he heard her footsteps approaching, he turned to look at her; his mouth went dry as she strode into the main room donning immaculately tailored tweed riding trousers, accompanied by brown lace-up boots with a gentle heel that reached up to her knees whilst his quidditch jumper hung loosely over her frame.

“Merlin…” He croaked.

“My uniform was beyond repair, I fear…” She blushed. “I had to improvise a little and transfigure a few garments. Does it look…?” She trailed off.

“Utterly radiant.” He stated, unable to keep his eyes off her.

She gazed at him dotingly, before reaching for her wand to mutter the usual charms that would fix the unruly waves and ringlets in her hair.

“Don’t…” He smiled, stopping her in her tracks. “It’s beautiful. You’re beautiful, just as you are.”

He pressed a tender kiss to her temple as she put her wand away, running a hand through the kinks in the sublime monstrosity that was her early-morning hair.

“Come, love,” he whispered, taking her hand as they exited the Room of Requirement. “Our world will be right here waiting for us later this evening.”

The reality of not-their-world was doused over them like ice-cold water as the stares of Hogwarts Students bore into them at every turn. They took a deep breath as they reached the familiar grand entrance, nodding to each other and each giving the other’s hand reassuring squeezes. They had never entered the Great Hall as an explicit item before.

Any whispered rumours that had simmered through the corridors in light of Sebastian and Leander’s almost-duel in the streets of Hogsmeade the day prior were ignited into flaming beacons of gossip that burned at every table, following them down the hall, as the infamous Heroine of Hogwarts, and notorious Quidditch sceptic, accompanied the prized Slytherin Beater and fearsome duellist to breakfast that morning wearing his jumper.

“No need to thank me, Sebastian,” Lucan had chortled as they passed him on the Gryffindor table, “I always knew that the two undisputed Crossed Wands Champions would make a perfect match… Why do you think I always paired you both together?”

“Lucan, I introduced you to her…” Sebastian smirked, raising a questioning eyebrow, “And she always picked me as her duelling partner.”

“Nice try, though, Lucan.” She laughed affectionately, as the couple continued down the tables to take their usual seats with Anne and Ominis.

“Well, you two have certainly livened up the Castle!” Anne chuckled.

“That’s one way of putting it…” Ominis hummed dryly, sipping his tea.

“Mr. Sallow…” A familiar voice rumbled, sending a chill down all of their spines.

“Good morning, Professor,” Sebastian grinned nervously, turning to greet the disparaging stare of Aesop Sharp, “to what do I owe the pleasure?”

“I was hoping that you and I might have a little discussion in my office after breakfast.” He stated.

“Y-yes, of course, sir.” Sebastian stammered, as Sharp nodded to him before departing. A cool silence fell over the four as they waited with bated breath, their eyes following Professor Sharp as he turned down the corridor.

“What was that about?” Anne questioned.

“I genuinely have no idea.” Sebastian groaned, picking at his plate of food.

“You haven’t been light-fingered in the supplies cupboard again, have you?” Ominis queried accusingly.

“I keep telling you, Ominis, that wasn’t me! Potions is Weasley’s department for mischief.” He retorted defensively.

“Ah, well, perhaps he’d like to offer his services officiating your wedding, then.” Ominis hummed dryly, as a small blush graced the non-Slytherin’s cheeks.

“I suppose the only way to know for sure is to go and speak to him.” She shrugged, pouring Ominis another cup of tea, which he accepted gratefully.

__

Having left the trio to make their way down to the Black Lake after breakfast, Sebastian found himself tapping on Professor Sharp’s office door.

“Come in, Sallow.” He commanded.

Taking a deep breath, Sebastian pushed the door to.

“You wanted to see me, sir?”

Professor Sharp turned away from the various bottles of Merlin-knows-what to face him, silently looking him up and down, causing Sebastian’s chest to tighten, before responding.

“Impressive casting work, that little stunt you pulled in Hogsmeade yesterday.” He stated.

“S-sir?” Sebastian genuinely hesitated.

“Don’t think I’m unaware of your illicit little Duelling Club, either…” He continued, “Have a seat, Sallow.”

Sebastian, in a state of shock and confusion, found himself almost involuntarily complying before he could completely comprehend what was happening.

“I realise that this might come as a shock to you, Sallow, especially given your track record…” Sharp began, casting him a suspecting look as he reclined into his desk chair, “But the truth of the matter is that I can see that you have an enormous amount of potential for a thriving career.”

“As… A Potioneer, sir?” Sebastian queried very hesitantly, his eyes scanning the towering shelves of multicoloured bottles of brews and potions that seemed to loom intimidatingly over him.

“Merlin, no...” Sharp replied with an exasperated sigh, “As an Auror, Sallow. You’re a skilled duellist and you can think on your feet. You’ve got an instinct that I see missing from so many Aurors, nowadays.”

“I…” He hesitated in disbelief, “Well… Thank you, sir.”

“I’m not finished,” he asserted. “You’ve got potential, but you’re reckless. The sort of headstrong carelessness you gallivant about the Castle with will get you into serious trouble one day, if not killed.” He scolded firmly. “Not to mention the marks on your academic record that would probably see your application form incinerated within minutes of opening it… Your uncle was an Auror, no?” He queried in a new trail of thought.

Sebastian sighed and nodded, a pang of guilt washing through him as he recalled the anger behind Solomon’s eyes as he’d bellowed how ashamed his father would’ve been of him.

“Perhaps the Ministry might be willing to overlook certain lapses in your judgement if you had a letter of recommendation from a former Auror vouching for your skillset...” Sharp mused, his fingers drumming on the dark pine desk.

“I highly doubt my uncle would pen such a letter, sir,” Sebastian stated honestly. “We’re not exactly on the best of terms, you see...”

“I didn’t mean from a letter from him, Sebastian.” Sharp replied with an uncharacteristic smile.

“Sir?” Sebastian responded in confusion.

“Your uncle is no saint... I’d be keen to see you surpass him as an Auror.” Sharp remarked frankly, before continuing: “I will write to the Ministry to support your application, on the condition that we work together over the coming summer to refine your skillset and drill some much-needed common sense into that brain of yours.”

Sebastian couldn’t quite believe what was happening. Professor Sharp… Former Auror, Aesop Sharp… Saw potential in him? Wanted to mentor him? The same student that he had never hesitated in voicing his blatant contempt for?

Why? He wondered.

It’s true, they shared a Hogwarts House, but Slytherins weren’t known for their loyalty, but rather their ambition. Speaking of which, he hadn’t given much thought to a career at all… So much of the last few years of his life had been devoted to curing Anne. He’d figured that perhaps he could turn to farm work as a steady income whilst he competed in the Professional Duelling Competitions to make something of a name for himself… But an Auror? The thought of something so official terrified him a little. Surely, they’d find out about his exploration into Dark Magic… His use of the Unforgivable Curses? He’d be out of the training programme and thrown into Azkaban before he could even set foot in the Ministry.

“Sir,” Sebastian sighed, “I’m so incredibly grateful for your offer, but if you’re going to support anyone’s application to the Ministry, then it really should be-”

“Your dear Ravenclaw companion’s outstanding academic achievements, as well as their extra-curricular accolades, should set them apart as an ideal candidate for Auror training,” he smirked knowingly. “Not to mention the glowing letter of recommendation that Professor Weasley is penning to the Minister himself as we speak… Does that put your concerns at ease?”

“Well, somewhat, but sir…”

“Sebastian,” Sharp interrupted, “I know everything.”

His skin prickled as Sharp’s deliberate words reverberated around the room. Reluctantly letting go of a breath, he gathered the courage to meet his professor’s gaze…

The expected stare of an Auror confronting a common criminal was absent. Instead, he found himself meeting the sympathetic eyes of a man who sought to understand him.

“You’re tenacious, I’ll give you that.” Sharp shrugged, almost admirably.

‘Sir,” Sebastian pleaded, rising from his seat, “I had to. It was for…”

“Your sister, I know.” He nodded. “You wouldn’t be the first wizard to go running to the Dark Arts in desperate search of solutions…”

“I’m so ashamed, Sir.” He croaked timidly. “I put everyone I love at risk…”

“You are, however,” Sharp continued, also rising from his seat, “one of the first wizards I’ve ever met to be able to walk away from them.” He strode around his desk to stand face to face with Sebastian, before placing a supportive hand gently on his shoulder. “Curiosity is one thing, and knowledge is the greatest power any wizard can be armed with… But the greatest wizards are made by the choices they make regarding said power.”

A single, vulnerable tear trickled down Sebastian’s cheek as the forgiving words of Aesop Sharp washed through him like a baptism.

“An Imperius curse used to save the innocent is very different to an Imperius curse used to manipulate the innocent,” Sharp affirmed. “Your uncle ought to know all about the warranted use of Unforgivable Curses...”

“My… Uncle?” Sebastian hesitated.

“We left the force for very different reasons...” Sharp replied firmly, resuming his usual demeanour, “Which is all the more reason why I can see no better judgement for your case than to sentence you to a life serving as an Auror. During which time, you will atone for your crimes through a rigorous training programme that will see you putting your skills and resourcefulness towards the benefit and protection of Wizardkind. Do we have a deal, Sallow?”

“Yes… Yes, sir. We do.” Sebastian beamed in almost-disbelief.

“Then it’s agreed,” he extended his hand to Sebastian, which he shook firmly. “We should seek somewhere to train away from the prying eyes of Feldcroft…”

“I haven’t lived with my uncle since I was sixteen, sir,” Sebastian explained, “I inherited my family home in Aranshire last year and have lived there ever since.”

“Then that is where we shall work together,” Sharp nodded. “In the meantime, I suggest you go and enjoy all that Hogwarts has left to offer you and stay out of trouble.”

“Thank you again, sir... I shan’t let you down.” Sebastian smiled, as he closed Sharp’s office door behind him.

Striding across the Clock Tower Courtyard, enjoying the warm rays of summer sun hitting his face, he heard the familiar chitters of his owl, perched contently on a low-hanging branch of the pear tree that grew from the ruins of the central well. Placing a few tender strokes on its beak, he took the letter from its grasp. As it cooed affectionately, he examined the envelope, noticing the eggshell colour of the paper and London address from the sender.

“Well, it’s not a Howler…” He sighed to himself, relief washing over his face, as he anxiously broke the wax seal.

The verbal introduction was warm, but brief. An affectionate smile graced his lips as, line by line, he began to understand from whom she had inherited her level-headedness. As the letter drew to a close, his smile stretched into a triumphant grin. He held the paper close to his chest for a few moments, before discretely pocketing it and continuing his journey towards the Black Lake.

Chapter Text

The last 12 hours before the Graduate Ball had seen the seventh-year student body of Hogwarts descend into chaos. Endless flurries of young graduates swarmed to and from Hogsmeade with last-minute alterations to dress robes and ballgowns, not to mention the subsequent squabbles between witches who had unfortunately chosen similar dress colours, as esteemed professionals of the wizarding world slowly began to descend upon the castle; greeted by the ever-welcoming smile of Professor Weasley. In light of the Ministry’s refusal to grant him the right to reject muggle-born students admission to Hogwarts, Professor Black had rather coincidentally found himself indisposed that week.

Sebastian chuckled to himself, hearing the squawking between Imelda and Nerida echoing from the girls’ dormitories into the Slytherin Common Room as he turned the final page of his book.

“Merlin, what a fuss,” Ominis tutted as his finger traced another line of braille in his own reading, “I don’t understand what the issue is with having identical dresses.”

“I’d imagine they both want to stand out from the crowd this evening.” Sebastian mused.

“And how would wearing the same dress prevent them from doing that?” He chortled.

“Aaaah, Ominis…” Sebastian sighed knowingly, “Women see these things very differently to men.”

“The more I grow to learn about women, the more I enjoy being a bachelor.” Ominis retorted.

“I’m starting to have second thoughts about handing my little sister over to you for the evening…”

“Merlin, Sebastian, by three minutes…” Anne interrupted from the corridor, slumping on the sofa in exasperation.

“And in those three minutes, I swore to be the most protective and doting big brother in the whole wide world…” Sebastian pouted and cooed playfully, teasing his sibling as she scoffed at him.

“How’s it going in there?” Ominis chuckled, nodding towards the source of the squabbling.

“Mediation and peace talks are no longer an option,” she sighed, looking between the two men with both with their faces firmly glued to their books, “I got out of there with my dress intact before I could get caught in the crossfire.”

“Perhaps we ought to summon the Squid to break up the squabbling,” Ominis chuckled, as Anne turned to gaze out of the stained-glass windows into the murky depths of the lake, willing it to make an appearance.

“I have an idea,” Sebastian suddenly announced, closing his book and sitting bolt upright on the sofa he had previously been sprawled across, “Ominis, grab our dress robes. Anne, send a quick owl to Ravenclaw tower, then follow me.”

An hour later, the Slytherin trio found themselves gasping for air in the Astronomy tower corridor, having torn through the Castle in a mad flurry of collecting dress robes and making final preparations.

“What exactly are we doing here, Sebastian?” Ominis queried suspiciously, catching his breath.

‘And why are you pacing in front of this wall?” Anne huffed.

“You’ll see.” He hummed, as a flurry of red hair rounded the corner.

“S-sorry… Just got your owl… I was about to start…” She puffed, out of breath.

“Don’t worry, my love.” He chuckled, admiring how irresistible she was when flustered, “I thought it’d be a nice idea for us all to get ready for the Ball together.”

“In this hallway?!” Ominis cried, “Sebastian, don’t be ridiculous. I don’t care how quiet it is up here, it’s hardly appropriate for these two.” He nodded towards the ladies.

“Ever the gentleman, Ominis,” she smiled, “but fear not – Sebastian didn’t mean that at all… I’m sure we can add a couple more extensions to our little home” She turned to Sebastian with a knowing grin.

As they turned to face the wall, Anne gasped as a doorway began to appear.

“Consider this my way of thanking you for sharing the Undercroft with me…” The Ravenclaw turned to beam at the trio of Slytherins, before turning the handle to welcome them in.

As the Room of Requirement unfolded before their eyes in all its glory, Anne stared in wide-eyed amazement. Ominis, entirely unfamiliar with the room, reached for his wand as he began to find his bearings in the new surroundings as she began to explain.

“You’ve had this since fifth year?!” Ominis cried in equal parts shock, awe and outrage, “Why didn’t you tell us?”

“There was no-one up here except the creatures in the Vivariums, myself and Deek,” she shrugged. “I only told Sebastian about it last year.”

“And that was only because I needed some extra Unicorn hair for a potion…” He chuckled, throwing himself onto a comfortable sofa, “She didn’t think it wise to let me loose in the Forbidden Forest to go looking for one.”

“A sensible decision,” Ominis snorted.

“I sometimes wonder about patenting a harness for a fully-grown wizard, complete with an enchanted leash on the back, specifically so that we can take Sebastian on walks into the forest without worrying about him straying into trouble.” Anne smirked as she scanned the endless bookshelves, earning a laugh from Ominis.

“Well, now that you’re all here,” she smiled to them, “you’re welcome any time… But for now, let’s focus on the task at hand.” She gestured to the two new doorways that had appeared on either side of the room. “Sebastian, you and Ominis can take that room… Anne and I will get ready in this room.”

__

“What did she mean, when she called it ‘our home’ earlier?” Ominis asked, cocking an eyebrow as Sebastian adjusted his bow tie.

“Ominis, try not to fret so much…” He chuckled, pouring his friend a Firewhiskey from the globe-shaped drinks trolley in the corner of the room. “She and I have simply come to find this place to be a little haven of sorts… It’s no different to how you and I feel in the Undercroft.”

“I’ve never slept in the Undercroft.” He retorted.

“That’s not true!” Sebastian countered, “Remember in third year when we stayed up into the early hours revising for that Potions exam?”

“I stand corrected,” He murmured. “But I take it this is where you’ve been sleeping for the last week?”

“You noticed?” He asked, surprised.

“Sebastian, I’ve had to listen to your snores and sleep murmurs for the last seven years, I know when they’re absent.”

“You’re welcome.” He grinned playfully, buttoning his emerald green velvet waistcoat, as his quip fell on an uncomfortable silence from Ominis.

“You’re my oldest friend, Sebastian. We don’t keep secrets from each other… I showed you the Undercroft so it could become our space, but you shared with her within two weeks of meeting her.” He sighed, clearly hurt. “Then, not only did you both keep this a secret, but you turned it into a love nest.”

“Ominis…” Sebastian soothed.

“Don’t think that I don’t know what you’re planning tonight…” He continued accusingly, “I know you, Sebastian. I know that you’ll want me gone from the house by the summer. I can see that I have no place in your life anymore.”

“What?!” Sebastian cried, gripping his friend’s shoulders, “Ominis, that’s not true at all.”

“Well, you’ll hardly be wanting a blind wizard stumbling around your home when the time comes for…”

“Ominis,” Sebastian asserted firmly, “stop.”

He guided his friend to sit down on the chaise lounge that perched in front of a stained-glass window that overlooked the forest, before sitting himself down next to him and placing a reassuring hand on his back.

“Ominis, I am so sorry that I’ve made you feel this way. I had no idea… But whatever happens,” he soothed, “You are always welcome... Here and at home. It’s our home, now, remember? That little pile of sticks and mud is just as much yours as it is mine. That doesn’t change after today, nor will it ever change.”

Ominis hesitated for a moment before releasing a heavy, burdened sigh.

“You mean, you don’t-?”

“Of course not!” Sebastian interrupted, “We’re family. That home was built for a family, remember?” He smiled, patting his friend on the back. “Besides, once she gets her hands on it, you’ll have your own annex in no time.”

“The Gaunt Wing seems only fitting.” He smirked, as they both erupted into laughter as comfort flowed back into the room like a reassuring gust of fresh air.

“You really won’t want me to go?” Ominis asked, his voice laced with an uncharacteristic vulnerability.

“Neither of us could do without you, dear friend.” Sebastian grinned reassuringly.

__

“You look radiant, Anne,” she smiled, clocking the Sallow sister in the mirror as she added the final touches to her hair, “a vision in silver.”

“So do you!” Anne gasped as she turned to look at her, “Your dress! You look like the night sky… With your hair… Oh, you look beautiful!” She gushed, earning a demure blush from her companion.

Whilst Anne had opted for an arguably understated silver silk ballgown adorned with ivory lace and pinned her hair into an elegant bun, it allowed her to glow in her natural grace and beauty. Whereas her red hair was pinned half up, with ruby ringlets that rippled down her back and shone vibrantly against the silk of her midnight blue gown in a rather bohemian statement.

“There’s something I’d like you to have…” Anne smiled as she finished adjusting her earrings and presented her with a small velvet box, “And I know for a fact that Sebastian would want you to have this, too.”

She took the box from Anne and gently opened the lid, letting a small gasp escape her lips.

Inside the box lay a delicate golden chain, with a mesmerising opal stone reflecting a spectrum of ethereal blues and greens to warm, fiery reds and oranges, set within a golden bezel.

“Anne, it’s beautiful…”

“It was our mother’s,” She explained, stopping her in her tracks.

“Anne, I couldn’t possibly accept this…” She whispered, “It’s too beautiful. It’s too kind a gift…”

Anne sighed, turning to her. She crossed the room, coming to perch at her friend’s side.

“There is no kinder gift than a second chance at a life.” Anne stated. “The very gift that you not only gave to me when you rid me of that curse, but you also gave to my brother when you talked him out of using that relic. We owe you everything.”

“You owe me nothing, Anne,” she sighed, “I care about you, I would do anything to help you… You’re like a sister to me.”

“And you to me,” she beamed, “which is all the more reason why this belongs to you. We’re family now.”

“But…” She hesitated, staring at the necklace, “I don’t want to take something away from you that was your mother’s.”

“So were these earrings…” Anne soothed, pointing to her ears. “So were many other bits of jewellery I’ve collected. I carry my mother with me in so many ways, every day of my life, with every breath I take.” She smiled. “I owe that to you… And I know that she would adore you and want you to have it, too.”

Anne closed her friend’s hands around the small box, nodding in affirmation that it really was okay to accept the gift. Taking a deep breath, she nodded, clasping the box lovingly to her chest, before opening it again to admire the beautiful necklace as Anne reached over and began placing it around her neck.

“It looks even better on.” She grinned playfully.

“T-thank you, Anne.” She stuttered, deeply moved, as Anne gently fixed the clip around the back of her neck.

“There,” she whispered, squeezing her shoulders reassuringly, “it’s like it was made for you.”

They were interrupted by a gentle knock at the door.

“Are you ready, ladies?” Ominis called.

“Oh! Go on ahead, Ominis… We’ll meet you outside the Great Hall.” Anne smiled.

“But we’re both…” She whispered

“No, no…” Anne smirked, “Dresses like these deserve a grand entrance… They can wait for a few more minutes downstairs.”

“That’s the closest you’ve ever come to sounding like your brother.” She chuckled.

“For all of our sakes, I’ll try not to make a habit of it…” Anne retorted, as they laughed together.

“… So, do you really have a Unicorn upstairs?” She queried, fixing a stray curl in her friend’s mane.

Chapter Text

As night fell over the Highlands, the Castle came alive; shining like a beacon amongst the mist-covered mountains, the moonlight bathed Hogwarts in a soft glow, casting a spell of its own upon the ancient stones, as the faintest traces of music resonated through the valleys into the villages below.

The Great Hall had been transformed into a breath-taking spectacle. Rich tapestries adorned the walls, depicting scenes of mythical creatures and brave knights, leaping into action in front of their astounded spectators. Candlelight flickered in the sconces and danced on the enchanted ceiling, casting warm, golden hues upon the polished stone floor. The air was thick with the sweet scent of heather and an air of opulence, as the shimmering strings of the enchanted orchestra rang through the hallways. The guests, in a mixture of tailored suits and elaborate gowns, swirled around the ballroom like a kaleidoscope of colours.

Outside the Great Hall, Sebastian and Ominis both stood tall and regal in their robes amongst the growing gathering of anticipating suitors, greeting passers-by with welcoming smiles, as they waited.

“Nice skirt, Sallow.” A familiar voice drawled, as a flurry of Gryffindors passed by in a blur of red robes.

“It’s a kilt, Prewett, you ignorant fool.” Sebastian retorted. “Although I understand how something so cultural might evade your understanding.”

“I see you two have managed to make amends, then?” Ominis chuckled as Sebastian began to pace impatiently.

“Nice skirt, Sallow…” another far more welcome voice echoed playfully from the top of the stairs.

As he turned to retort something that he was sure would be marinaded in that infamous Sallow wit, instead the sight of her robbed his lungs of all air.

She descended the staircase with a grace that rivalled the shimmers of the constellations she was adorned with. Her gown, a masterpiece of midnight blue silk embellished with silver and gold stars, billowed around her like the vast night sky. The bodice sparkled with delicate sequins, mimicking the brilliance of distant galaxies. Celestial pins of moons and stars decorated her red hair, cascading softly down her back, and a silver silk sash trailed behind her like a comet's tail. Time seemed to stand still as Sebastian’s gaze fixated on her. Each step echoed in his heart, drawing him into the orbit of all that was her. As she reached the final step, he approached her with an outstretched hand, which she accepted. His eyes brimmed with adoration as he pressed her hand to his lips with a loving smile.

“Perfection, as always...” He whispered tenderly, before his heart skipped a beat as his eyes finally acknowledged what hung around her neck. A surge of emotions blending joy, pride and the tender ache of nostalgia threatened to spill out of him, as he desperately tried to maintain his composure.

“You’re wearing my mother’s necklace.” He choked, struggling to contain himself.

She froze, her eyes wide with fear as she worried that she’d angered him.

“It’s… It’s just that Anne… She was so kind… She said it would be… Oh, Merlin, I’ve upset you.” She began to panic.

“No...” He hushed gently, “No, you haven’t upset me, my love. Quite the opposite. I just… I had no idea that Anne had it… I’d thought it was lost to us forever...”

“Her memory deserves to be celebrated tonight, wouldn’t you agree, dear brother?” Anne smiled, linking arms with him as they both gazed at her fondly.

“I couldn’t agree more…” He mused softly. “It’s like it was made for her.”

“My thoughts exactly,” Anne grinned, as she pecked them both on the cheek before returning her attention to a very dapper-looking Ominis, who was waiting patiently for her in the doorway to the ballroom.

“Come and join us on the dancefloor soon!” He called, as he and Anne floated arm in arm through the immaculately decorated doorway into the Great Hall.

“She’d be so proud of you tonight,” she smiled lovingly, “they both would. Two professors seeing their children graduate from Hogwarts adorned with such phenomenal achievements... They’d adore this.”

“They’d adore you, too.” He replied, a soft smile gracing his lips.

As the first notes of a waltz began to swell from the Great Hall, Sebastian extended his arm to her.

“Right, time to properly show you off to the world...” He remarked, as a devilish grin flashed across his handsome face.

As the night unfolded, the dance floor came alive with intricate steps as laughter bubbled through the air amidst the twirling of skirts, garnished with the occasional pop of a champagne cork. The orchestra's melody mirrored the beating of their hearts as a resplendent mirage of midnight blue and emerald green swept across the ballroom.

“You really weren’t joking about being a good dancer, were you?” She laughed, as they moved in perfect harmony.

“When have I ever downplayed my own skillset?” He smirked, guiding her effortlessly.

“I wonder what other talents you have, besides dancing and boasting?” She teased as he gently lifted her.

“I can cook, too.” He retorted playfully, placing her back on the ballroom floor with a grin as the final chord of the dance rippled through the orchestra. A gentle rumble of applause flittered through the room as the respective couples bowed and curtsied before Sebastian guided them away from the dancing, through the crowds, towards the tables of refreshments.

“You look beautiful tonight,” he smiled, as he handed her a glass of champagne. “More radiant than the night sky itself… You’ve woven the cosmos into that gown.”

“I couldn’t have asked for a better or more handsome astronomer to discover me.” She replied, gazing lovingly into his deep brown eyes as she sipped from her glass.

“Pardon me for interrupting you,” came the voice of Matilda Weasley as she greeted the couple, “but would you both be so kind as to join me for a few minutes? There are some introductions I would like to make...” She smiled, as they nodded amiably. They followed her through the crowds of conversing Graduates, skirting along the sides of the ballroom, to be greeted by three slightly more elderly-looking Wizards, including…

“Minister Spavin!” Sebastian chimed, extending his hand to shake the Minister’s in a warm greeting, “Sebastian Sallow. What an honour it is to make your acquaintance Sir.”

“Yes, delighted…” Faris Spavin acknowledged them both with a gentle nod, his piercing eyes assessing the duo. "I've heard promising things about both of you from your professors. Your accomplishments are quite impressive, especially given your backgrounds."

“Thank you, Minister,” she smiled humbly. “We both believe firmly in the potential for further positive changes within the Wizarding world, thanks to your ongoing phenomenal work, Sir."

As the conversation unfolded, Sebastian couldn't help but steal glances at her; whirlwinds of pride, admiration and affection coursing through him as he watched her brilliance shine through in every eloquent turn of phrase. Yet, for all the charm and ambition he possessed, the haunting murmurs of his past actions plagued the back of his mind, as he prayed that they would not find a way to tarnish his prospects of a future by her side.

As their discussions flowed through the evening almost as freely as the bottles of wine that floated through the room, Spavin gave a hearty chuckle as his glass was topped up.

“Well,” he smiled to his cohort, “it’s clear to me that we are in the company of two young wizards who would make wonderful assets to the Ministry, and I would be delighted to grant you both admission to the Auror training programme, should you so wish to follow that path.”

“We cannot thank you enough, Sir.” Sebastian beamed.

“If I may…” Spavin continued, turning to her, “Might we have a further moment of your time, Miss? I promise we shan’t keep you away from the festivities for too long.”

“But of course, Minister.” She smiled and nodded, before turning reassuringly to her partner, “I’ll come and find you in a little while, Sebastian.”

He kissed her hand and bowed courteously to the Minister and his companions, before turning his attention to seeking out Ominis and Anne.

Leaning against one of the grand stone pillars, he took a contented swig from his glass as he watched his sister and his best friend grace the ballroom.

“Quite the dancer, for a blind man.” He chuckled to Ominis, as he and Anne took a break from their turns about the floor to grab a glass of elderflower wine.

“Enchanted shoes.” He smirked, as Sebastian let out an impressed laugh. “Most of the Gaunt family are so painfully inbred that none of my cousins could function without them. Figured I’d use them to my advantage.”

“I wouldn’t go bragging about that if I were you, Ominis…” Sebastian smiled, as they both took another sip from their respective glasses.

“What’s this I hear about an introduction to the Minister, Sebastian?” Anne queried as she turned from the group of friends with whom she had been conversing to face the two gentlemen.

“Oh, that…” Sebastian bluffed, “I was simply chaperoning my charge,” he shrugged lightheartedly.

“Is that so?” Ominis probed suspiciously.

Whilst he was no stranger to manipulating the facts of a situation, Sebastian didn’t enjoy flat-out lying… Especially not to them. However, Sharp’s words of caution rang through his mind like the tolling of a bell as he thought of Anne, in all her good nature and sisterly concern, fretting to Solomon about his chosen career path.

“Truly, Ominis,” Sebastian soothed, “It was a brief, somewhat nonsensical discussion. I’ve played more intriguing rounds of Gobstones.”

Ominis paused, before nodding and sipping his drink. “I’ve heard as much about our dear Minister.”

It was at that moment that the Slytherin trio were re-joined by their somewhat overwhelmed Ravenclaw companion.

“Is everything all right?” Anne asked, concerned by the colour that was rapidly draining from her face.

“Oh! Me? Yes… Yes I’m… I just need another…” She stammered, reaching for another glass, before Sebastian gently stopped her.

“Perhaps some air?” He suggested, guiding her subtly towards the exit. He nodded to Anne and Ominis, before linking her arm in his as he smiled and nodded them around the outskirts of the ballroom. As they rounded the corner into the Entrance Hall, clearing the last of the lingering students, he grabbed her hand as they ran out into the Viaduct Courtyard.

‘What’s happened?” He frowned, turning to face her as the cool air washed over them, “Has someone said something to you? Has someone done something to you?”

“No, Sebastian…” She gasped, struggling to compose herself, “It’s just… Merlin, I can’t breathe…”

“Is your corset too tight?” He panicked, gently placing his hands on her waist, “Do you need me to loosen it?”

“No, my love, no…” She hushed, starting to hyperventilate.

“Angel, you’re scaring me...” He whispered, cupping her face delicately in his hands as she fought back tears, her eyes glazing over in panic. “Wherever it is you’re going right now, come back to me. Stay right here with me, alright?” He soothed.

As her breathing began to regulate, tears spilt down her cheeks.

“I’m frightened.” She whimpered.

“Oh, my darling…” He hushed, brushing his thumb across her cheek, “Why are you frightened?”

“The Minister… He…” She sniffled, “He offered me a job.”

“But... But that’s wonderful! Oh, my brilliant girl!” His heart leapt out of his chest as he threw his arms around her, lifting her off the ground and spinning her around the courtyard with glee as he pressed gentle kisses to her lips. “I’m so proud of you!”

“Sebastian…” She hushed, staying in his arms as her feet softly returned to the ground, “He wants me to be an Unspeakable.”

The glee melted from his face into a confused frown. “I don’t understand,” he said, “he offered you the Auror training…”

“Apparently, the Ministry has been following my progress ever since the Goblin attack on Hogwarts…” She sighed, “They know about my… Additional skillset. Whilst they can’t deny that I’d be a glowing asset to the Auror training programme, they believe that I possess the innate abilities and refined skills to be an Unspeakable… Whatever that means.”

“Well, Merlin, my love…” He chuckled comfortingly, tilting her chin up with his thumb, “If the Minister for Magic himself is telling you that, then surely…”

“Sebastian, I have no idea what being an Unspeakable entails!” She cried exasperatedly, “No one does! The job comes with a gagging clause! You’ve seen what happened to Professor Hecat… ”

“You’ve yet to fall at any of the countless hurdles that have been thrown in front of you, my love.” He soothed, stroking her back comfortingly as he noticed the panic rising in her once more.

“After everything that’s happened over the last two years…” She broke away from him, beginning to pace to and fro in the Courtyard, “The Goblins… The Dark Wizards… The Poachers… Dragons… Spiders… Professor Fig… Lodgok… The Keepers… The Repository… Anne… That damned Dark Relic and what it almost did to you…” She stopped dead in her tracks as her panicked gasps turned to heavy sobs.

“I have carried the weight of the Wizarding world on my shoulders for the last two years... I never wanted to be a hero! I never chased glory or acclaim… I just wanted to do what was right!” She cried out, “And I prayed that I might learn to understand whatever this,” she flung her palms out in front of her, gesturing to her Ancient Magic, “is in the process… On my terms!” Her knees buckled as she felt herself collapsing inwards, only to be caught before she could feel her shins hit the cold, cobbled ground.

His familiar, comforting warmth surrounded her, accompanied by the usual traces of cedarwood that lingered in his cologne and soothed her aching chest.

“You’re not their pawn, my love.” He whispered, pressing a loving kiss to her forehead as she wept in his arms. “You’re the most phenomenal woman… The most intelligent and accomplished witch I’ve ever met. You’re so much more than whatever they need you to be. You know your mind, and you know what you want. It doesn’t matter what anyone else thinks or wants… Not even me, you understand? You can be absolutely anything that you put your brilliant mind to, so instead, choose to be whatever your beautiful heart desires above all else.” He soothed, offering her his handkerchief.

As she dabbed away the teary blotches on her face, their eyes locked as the soft moonlight illuminated their frames.

“You always understand me and know exactly what to say, my love.” She smiled tearfully.

“That’s what I vowed to do…” He smirked, brushing a remaining tear from her cheek, “To know you, understand you and love you, remember?”

His smirk erupted into a grin as a gentle chuckle rippled through her chest.

“Come on,” he asserted, rising to his feet and offering her his hand, “come with me…”

Chapter Text

In the late hours of an Autumn evening long since passed, two fifteen-year-old wizards perched anxiously out of eyesight of Agnes Scribner’s desk.

“Damn.” The rebellious Slytherin had hissed, rapidly devising a new plan.

“You told me the Librarian would be gone by now!” the newest addition to Ravenclaw House had scolded anxiously under her breath.

“I said usually!” He retorted in a whisper, “But it’ll still be alright… Do you see her desk behind me?” He nodded towards the object in question. “The key is in the drawer of that desk…”

She cautiously peeked around the bookshelf to eye the front desk, before giving him an affirming nod.

“Now, here’s what we’re going to do…” He continued, his eyes locking on her, “I’ll create a distraction to draw her away. You focus on getting the key. I’ll meet you outside the Restricted Section.”

“You distract. I get the key. Understood.” She stated.

“I said I’d get you in, and I always keep my word.” He smirked coyly, readying his wand, “Trust me.” He winked, before veiling himself in another disillusionment charm as their plan had sprung into action.

Now, in the late hours of a Summer evening two years on, the same two wizards strolled hand in hand through the same wooden door, basking in their solitude, as they came to an abrupt stop by the exact bookshelf their younger selves had perched behind.

“The site of our first adventure.” He grinned, scanning the bookshelf, the same mischief still dancing in his eyes.

Her fingers trailed along the spines of familiar titles, as memories came flooding back to her. Memories of their laughter echoed between the shelves, and the gentle rustling of pages from the enchanted books that flew overhead seemed to carry the whispers of their past endeavours, beginning with that first break-in they had concocted. She couldn't help but feel a nostalgic warmth as she recalled the camaraderie they had built within these walls that night, followed by the countless afternoons and evenings they had spent in comfortable silences by the fire together, each lost in the chapters of their respective books.

Sensing the wistful turn in her thoughts, Sebastian squeezed her hand affectionately. "Remember how we used to spend hours in here? Frantically studying for some test, or writing those endless essays on Invisibility potions together, right here on these desks?”

She smiled at him, her eyes glistening with a combination of joy and longing. “Yes…” She chuckled, “Life seemed so uncomplicated back then.”

“Speak for yourself, my sister was dying.” He half-laughed.

“Oh, Merlin, I’m sorry…” She whispered, “I didn’t mean to be so insensitive.”

“It’s alright, my love.” He soothed, “I know you didn’t mean it like that… But the truth of the matter is that our lives have always been complicated, even back then… Yet no matter what trials have been thrown our way, we’ve always faced them head-on, together, and pulled through.” He smiled, as she nodded in appreciative understanding, before linking her arm in his.

The familiar, comfortable silence of the Library washed over them as they strolled through the central row of desks arm in arm. Her eyes were drawn to the familiar bars of the Restricted Section.

“Why didn’t you turn me in that night, after Peeves caught us?” She asked, resting her head on his shoulder.

“I told you, I like having friends who are in my debt.” He smirked playfully, as she chuckled into his collar. “I spent the subsequent detention daydreaming of all the ways you could atone.”

‘Come on, why did you really spare me?” She winked coyly.

He sighed affectionately, before turning to face her head-on.

“Because I knew you were special, even then.” He smiled. “I spent that subsequent detention daydreaming about you. I had no idea what it was you were doing, but I knew that I would support you in any way that I could.”

“You’ve always supported me, even when you didn’t need to...” She murmured, wrapping her arms around his neck and pressing her lips tenderly to his. “You could’ve walked away at any time and had nothing to do with me, and yet you’ve always stuck by me …”

“As have you, when you could’ve too.” He replied, wrapping his arms gently around her waist. “We both know I’d probably be in Azkaban right now if it weren’t for you.”

“I would never walk away from you, Sebastian Sallow.” She whispered tenderly between kisses.

“Nor I from you, my love…” He whispered in reply, pressing a final chaste kiss to her lips before taking a step back from her to drop to one knee.

“Through the deepest darkness and most joyous light, you’ve never left my side. You trusted me, from the get-go, in this very room. I swore I’d stick with you then, and I always keep my word, remember?”  He winked playfully, earning a tearful smile from her as the realisation of what was happening dawned on her.

“Since then, we’ve taken on so much together… More than either of us could ever have fathomed, and I vowed to myself that I would stand by you, no matter what. I vowed to know you, understand you and love you… Now, if you’ll allow me, I’d like to vow to do something else…”

He captured her gaze with his soft brown eyes as he produced a small box from his pocket.

“… Spend the rest of my life with you.”

He opened the box to reveal a delicate gold band with beautifully engraved patterns of twisting vines, leaves and scrolls. At the heart of the ring, where a traditional diamond might have resided, a mesmerising opal took centre stage, embraced by a halo of tiny seed pearls as it glistened in the same hues as her necklace.

“… Will you be my wife?”

As the Library held its breath in anticipation, she tenderly extended her hand to him.

“Yes, Sebastian…” Her eyes overflowing with tears, she smiled and nodded. Overcome with happiness, an elated warmth spread through her chest. “Yes, I will.”

Tears of his own graced his cheeks, his heart brimming with delight as he stood up to slip the ring onto her finger. As they both gazed over it lovingly, it shimmered and radiated on her hand in the exact way he’d imagined it would.

“Was this...?” She asked tearfully.

“My mother’s, yes.” He affirmed, his voice filled with adoration, as their eyes met.

“It fits perfectly,” she observed with a loving smile.

“Just like us.” He smiled back, tilting her chin up to capture her lips in a tender, passionate kiss.

Chapter Text

“The Auror training programme?” Ominis cried in shock, as Sebastian paced the familiar stone floor of the Undercroft into the early hours of the next morning.

Gobstones was their code word for matters that couldn’t be discussed in front of Anne.

When she had first fallen unwell, Sebastian had felt a pressure to keep calm in front of her… To stay positive, so as not to frighten her. On an afternoon visit to Feldcroft in their fourth year, as they’d seen the regular singes of pain once again coursing through her like clockwork, helpless to do anything but watch, Solomon had advised that it was time to allow her to rest and that the boys return to Hogwarts.

It had been a quiet walk back, only the stray cracks of twigs under their feet had threatened to interrupt the silence.

“I reckon we’ve time for a round of Gobstones in the Undercroft before bed,” Ominis had smiled as they trekked back through the Highlands.

“If you’d like,” Sebastian had shrugged flatly, welcoming the distraction.

As the wrought iron portcullis dragged to a close behind them, the warm musk of the Undercroft had greeted them like an old friend, sending a yearning pang of nostalgia through Sebastian, wishing his sister was there with them.

“So,” Sebastian cleared his throat, attempting to push through the slowly suffocating melancholy that threatened to engulf him, as he began to set up the game in the usual spot, “How do you want to…”

“Sebastian…” Ominis sighed softly, placing a gentle hand on his friend’s shoulder, “We’re not actually here to play Gobstones.”

“Then, why did you-”

“You need to have a safe place…” Ominis continued. “Away from the Common Room, away from the prying eyes of Hogwarts and most importantly, away from Anne and Solomon… To process all of this.”

“What do you mean, all of this?” He replied defensively, his gaze locked on the little stones he was arranging over-meticulously.

“What’s happened, Seb.” Ominis replied firmly. “Your sister being struck by a deadly curse.”

As Sebastian stood to storm out, rage flooding his eyes, Ominis rose to grab his arm. “I know you; you’re putting on a brave face, but you’re not handling this well…”

He felt the rise in Sebastian’s shoulders as he inhaled sharply, kicking away the Gobstones by his feet in helpless frustration. His body tremored as if his blood were molten.

 “You’re safe here, Sebastian...” He soothed. “You can feel whatever you need to feel within these walls. Anne will never know, and I will never judge you.”

The quivers of rage that he had felt coursing through Sebastian’s body slowly began to subside into pained sobs, which suddenly erupted into heartbroken wails.

“I was supposed to protect her!” He cried, “All those years of faultless duelling, and I couldn’t protect her when she actually needed me!” In a blur of rage, his fist collided with the nearest pillar with a chilling crunch before his yelp of pain rang through the room.

Sebastian clutched his hand to his chest as he quietly whimpered, slowly sinking to his knees.

It was the first, and last, time that Sebastian Sallow had, or would, ever raise a hand to anything.

Catching him before he could collide with the ground, Ominis held him as his entire body was overtaken by grief.

“I’ve failed her, Ominis…” He sobbed into his best friend’s shoulder.

“No, you haven’t,” he hushed. “We’re going to find a cure for her.”

“I… I can’t lose her…” He wept. “She’s all I have, Ominis.”

“That’s not true, Sebastian...” Ominis whispered comfortingly. “Yes, you have Anne… But you also have me…” He soothed, uncurling Sebastian’s bruised knuckles as he murmured a quiet healing charm, “And we’re going to find her a cure.”

“Do… Do you promise?” Sebastian whimpered, clutching his broken hand.

“Yes, Sebastian, I promise.”

“No matter what?”

“No matter what.” He stated, before bringing them both to their feet.

“Now,” he continued matter-of-factly, “here’s what we’re going to tell Nurse Blainey about that fracture of yours… Thank Merlin it wasn’t your duelling hand…”

Since that day, mentioning a game of Gobstones had been their covert way of communicating that they needed to meet in the Undercroft. Normally with regard, but not entirely limited to, their progress in the search for a cure. In light of Anne’s recovery, it had since evolved into a means of arranging to discuss things privately. They didn’t have many secrets kept solely between the two of them anymore, but these meetings, along with a few other code words they shared, would stay between them, and only them, forever.

“Sharp called me into his office because he knows everything.” Sebastian stated, continuing to pace. “He knows about the Dark Relic hunt, the Unforgivable curses… He wants me to atone by becoming an Auror. He’s going to mentor me.”

“I’m surprised he didn’t arrest you right there and then…” Ominis shrugged.

“You and I both!” He exhaled. “I thought I was done for. I saw my life flash before my eyes.”

“Merlin, how depressing...” He drawled.

“I’m glad you can joke at a time like this!” Sebastian retorted sharply.

“Sorry, force of habit…” Ominis smirked, leaning against a familiarly dented stone pillar, “Do continue.”

“He told me that my uncle had left the force on bad terms… Which makes sense, given what Anne once overheard him talking about... Then, Sharp made some comment about my knowing the warranted use of Unforgivable curses?”

“There is no ‘warranted use’…” Ominis spat, disgusted. “Although…” He mused, allowing his thoughts to dally in a memory that had arisen.

“Although what?” Sebastian replied impatiently.

“I seem to recall something my father once said to my cousins and brother…” Ominis furrowed his brow, deep in thought.

“Ominis, what are you talking about?”

“Let me think, Sebastian!” He hissed irritably, “I’m trying to get my timelines right!”

He was about to turn six years old. The nanny had just settled him down for the night when he heard the Firewhiskey-marinaded murmurings and footsteps of his father, brother and two elder cousins. They’d returned from a “hunt.”

A favourite pastime of the Gaunt family was to collect up stray Muggle paupers from the doorsteps of East London’s workhouses under the false pretence of a ‘special job.’ Hours later, these poor souls could find themselves fleeing for their lives through rural peatlands in the pitch black of night, as his elder relatives used them as moving target practice for Cruciatus curses. Once they were down to the last two or three “mangy little foxes,” they’d move on to the Killing Curse before returning home to the manor to celebrate “another successful hunt.”

Tonight was different from the others.

Normally, they’d return home giddy from the ‘thrills’ of their night and turn to the Firewhiskey as the night tallied on… However, this time, they seemed clumsy and irritable.

Their “hunt” had not gone to plan.

“Damned Aurors,” his brother had spat, “lurching about where they have no business whatsoever.”

“Marvolo,” his father had called, “help your cousin.”

The pained groans of his eldest cousin echoed through the house like the clanging of iron chains, as the three men aided him into the seat in front of the Parlour’s ornate fireplace.

“You’ll be all right soon,” Marvolo had urged, handing him a dubious-looking potion.

“Merlin, I feel like I’ve been hit by lightning…” Their cousin groaned, writhing in agony as their father whispered charms to soothe the burns that ran across his skin.

“That’s what the Cruciatus curse will do.” Mr. Gaunt replied. “That’s why it’s meant for the mangy Muggles and Mudbloods that pollute this world.”

“I don’t understand, father, don’t they have rules about using our magic at the Ministry?”

“I thought they were afraid of it?” The younger cousin added.

“Apparently, not that Auror.” Mr Gaunt retorted. “Fire with fire, indeed.”

“It’s outrageous… The Ministry tangling itself up in a mere matter of sport!”

“Pest control, really!” Marvolo snarled. “They should be thanking us!”

 “Someday, they shall.” Mr Gaunt murmured ominously, as the continued cries and moans of his cursed nephew haunted the estate until the early hours of the morning.

“Merlin…” Ominis sighed as the pieces fell into place.

“What is it?” Sebastian pressed.

“How old were you and Anne when Solomon retired?” Ominis queried.

“It was just before our parents died, so we must have been… Five or six?” Sebastian hesitated.

“I think…” Ominis began cautiously, “I think that your uncle might have used a Cruciatus curse on my cousin.”

Sebastian’s jaw dropped.

“And I think…” Ominis continued, “That might be the reason why he retired on such bad terms…”

“It… It all makes sense.” Sebastian stammered.

“Sit down, Sebastian…” Ominis hushed, “You’re in shock right now.”

“Merlin’s beard, Ominis it all makes complete sense!” He gasped, before a relieved laugh escaped out of him. “That’s why he was so furious! He fought fire with fire! He wasn’t angry with me using Dark Magic, he was angry with himself!”

“I’m pretty sure he was angry with both you and himself, to be honest...” Ominis murmured.

“That’s why Professor Sharp wants to mentor me! He thinks I’ll make my uncle’s mistake!” He cried in an epiphany. “Well, I’ll show him!”

“I… I really don’t know how to interpret that.” Ominis sighed. “Sebastian, it’s late. You’ve had a very exciting evening in more ways than one and you need sleep. Let’s get you to…”

“Oh-ho! No, no, Ominis…” Sebastian smirked, as blankets and pillows materialised with a flick of his wand. “I figured we’d spend our last night at Hogwarts in here.”

“Why on earth would you want us to stay in here, when I have a perfectly comfortable bed a few flights of stairs away, and you have a perfectly lovely fiancée slumbering in the Room of Requirement all alone?” he queried.

“Because, dear friend, a few hours ago, you accused me of not having room in my life for you anymore… So, I’m proving you wrong!” Sebastian grinned. “Not to mention your insatiable jealousy that you’ve not shared a night’s sleep in a secret room of the castle with me… We can’t have that now, can we?” He winked playfully.

“Merlin, Sebastian, that’s not what-”

“Come on!” he called cheerfully, patting the transfigured mattress opposite his own encouragingly. “It’ll be just like old times in Feldcroft! We could even start planning out some ideas for the outrageous send-off you’re going to give me at the Stag party…”

“Fine…” Ominis sighed, his lips curling into a minute smile as he slumped into a pile of pillows. “But only because I’m too tired to go back to the Dormitories…”

Chapter Text

In the long golden hours of a late August afternoon, Sebastian Sallow took a wife.

The humble barn on the outskirts of Feldcroft that had housed their legal union hummed with life; vines of ivy and crafted chains of heather, thistles and wildflowers danced up the supporting timbers and into the thatched roofing, accompanied by copper-coloured ribbons that shimmered in the late summer sun.

The freckles on the bridge of his nose crinkled as he couldn’t stop beaming at the woman he held in his arms. Her hair was pinned into a loose bun, with tiny plaits and buds of heather weaving in and out of it, as the occasional stray curl framed her soft face. The soft hints of blush to her off-white satin gown brought out the sun-kissed blush in her cheeks, and the rose gold band that now accompanied his mother’s ring on her finger completed the portrait of sheer radiance that stood smiling up at him.

“My wife…” he sighed contentedly, as their hands interlinked.

“Yes, beloved husband?” She grinned in return.

Merlin, his heart could burst at any moment.

“I will never tire of hearing you call me that, you know...” He smiled, pressing a tender kiss to her lips. “Nor will I ever tire of being able to do that for the world to see.”

Her eyes traced dotingly over her husband’s every feature; the soft, messy waves in his chestnut hair, the constellations of freckles that adorned his face, his delightfully kissable button nose, those smouldering dark eyes… The tall, strong physique that she always felt so safe in the hold of…

And yet, even as he stood before her as a man, he’d never lost the boyish grin that lit up his face… Or the playful dimples in his cheeks that complimented the expressive glint in his eyes…

“How lucky I am to have such a devoted, handsome husband.” She sighed dotingly as he chuckled.

“Scrub up alright for a roguish Celt, don’t I?” He grinned.

“Dressed up or not, you’ve always been handsome, and always will be.” She replied, running a hand affectionately through his hair.

“I’ll remind you of that next time I come home covered in spider’s webs.” He winked as she rolled her eyes.

“I do wonder what it’ll be like…” She mused playfully, “Living in a home together that doesn’t spontaneously expand to cater to all of your reckless whims.”

“You’ll find out this evening.” He retorted with a waggle of his eyebrows before the couple turned their attention to her parents, lingering nearby.

Sebastian couldn’t help but notice that his wife truly was the spitting image of her mother; statuesque and delicate in every way, with gentle waves that framed her face in ruby and copper hues. There was something truly mythical to the women in his newfound family, he mused, as he watched her eyes crinkle kindly at their corners whilst she embraced her daughter.

“Look at you, Mrs. Sallow…” She smiled lovingly, before moving to greet her new son-in-law with the same warmth and affection. “And my! What a handsome Mr. Sallow you’ve brought in tow!”

“Charmed, ma’am…” He replied with a humble nod, genuinely taken aback by the warmth of their reception.

He had always understood that there would come a day to meet her parents, and yet now that the moment was upon him, he found himself clouded with apprehension. Growing up with only the memory of his own parents to mould his key developmental years, plus the very limited and hesitant input from Solomon, he had yearned for the stability of a true family unit for all his life… But now that he was presented with exactly that, his heart raced with the fear that he might not live up to the expectations of what a son-in-law should be.

I mean, Merlin, his own uncle didn’t even like him, and he was notoriously miserable company… How could he expect the two people responsible for the most perfect creature he’d ever encountered to even tolerate him?

“We’ve heard so many wonderful things about you from the letters that came home from Hogwarts,” her mother beamed, as her eyes glowed with a maternal compassion, “it’s such a delight to finally meet you.”

“Thank you,” Sebastian smiled sincerely as his eyes darted between both parents, “it’s truly an honour to meet you both and to be joining your family.”

Her father, standing taller and broader than even Sebastian himself, was a deceptively gentle man. Despite his intimidating stature, his aura hummed with great, gentle wisdom, yet he maintained a reserved and observant demeanour. There was something about his presence that greatly soothed Sebastian, whilst also marginally terrifying him. As he placed a tender kiss on the top of his daughter’s head, he turned to Sebastian, extending his hand to him, which Sebastian shook firmly with another nod of his head.

“Come, Sebastian,” her father smiled to him, gesturing to the winding pathway leading out towards the southern region of Feldcroft, “take a walk to the cliffside with me.”

As he turned to his wife, she gave Sebastian an encouraging nod. He followed his father-in-law’s footsteps hesitantly, his mind clouded with worry. As they strolled together, the fields outside of Feldcroft, adorned with colourful flowers, offered a peaceful sanctuary as whips of fresh salt air began to brush across his face. Her father, sensing his apprehension, spoke gently:

"You know, our daughter has been writing home about you since the day you two met. I must say, I admire a man who can lose a duel with such grace and chivalry…” He chuckled, before continuing, “Through the years of our correspondence, she's painted a picture of a strong, resilient young man who has faced unfathomable hardships with the great courage of a wizard far beyond his years… It is such a genuine pleasure to finally meet you."

Sebastian looked down, his hands fidgeting with the edge of his waistcoat.

"The pleasure is all mine, Sir. I’m sure she has been far too kind in her descriptions of me… Truth be told, I’m lucky she found me. I’ve never been more grateful to lose a duel in my life… You’ve raised a daughter who nurtures and encourages the best out of every soul she encounters.”

His father-in-law sensed his continuing uneasiness and gave him a reassuring nod as they continued to stroll in an apprehensive silence. As their feet met the cliff’s edge, they looked out over the endless sky, bathing the sea in its golden and burnt orange hues of early evening.

“Have you always lived so close to the ocean?” Her father queried, finally breaking their silence.

“No, sir.” Sebastian replied, gazing to the horizon, “Only since my sister Anne and I came to Feldcroft after we lost our parents. We were born in Aranshire, further inland.”

He nodded.

“May I ask,” he continued, “how old you and Anne were when you lost your parents?”

“Of course, sir...” Sebastian replied. “We were young. Around six or seven – I’m afraid it’s something of a blur… One minute they were there, the next, they lay in the cellar… Not moving.” He murmured.

“I can’t begin to imagine.” He hummed sympathetically.

“It’s not something I’d wish on anyone.” Sebastian sighed.

He hated remembering.

Their lifeless forms, still hunched over tomes, as officials murmured somethings about “possessions” and “guardianship” and mediwizards gently carried them out of the cellar.

In all the back and forth between adults, no one had noticed the tiny little figure that curled up on the grass beside their bodies and reached for his mother.

He didn’t like the cellar… It was always so cold.

“Wake up, Mama…” He’d whimpered, clutching her stiff, pale hand. “Please wake up…”

The crashing of waves against the rocks below brought him back to reality.

“You must forgive my abnormal demeanour, sir.” Sebastian sighed, “I don’t wish to seem aloof or cold, it's just... I've never really had a family.” He explained. “I mean, I have, but… It’s been so long.”

His father-in-law nodded understandingly; his eyes gazed upon him with a paternal protectiveness as he continued to listen intently.

“I’ve always yearned for a true family,” he began, “I’m sure you’ll know from your daughter’s letters that I am estranged from my uncle, and have only recently recovered my sister from a curse that carried a death sentence…  And yet, now that I am blessed with the chance to finally have a family, I fear that I'm not sure I know how to be a part of one." Sebastian admitted painfully, his eyes locked on the endless horizon, frightened to meet her father’s gaze. With a deep breath, he continued:

“Sir, I confess, I’m a man of meagre income from an incredibly broken home… Your daughter found me an empty shell of a schoolboy, plagued by the pain of all that I had lost, and chose to love me regardless. Through her love, I have been truly transformed; from the moment I laid eyes on her, I knew that I wanted - no - needed to be a better man… And I vow to you that I strive to be that man… The man that she deserves… With every passing day. I love your daughter more than I could ever put into words. I always have, and I always will. I know that doesn’t atone for my shortcomings and problematic background, but I only hope that I can prove myself to you through my unwavering devotion to her.”

Blinking back tears, he turned to meet her father’s gaze who, deeply moved by his vulnerability, placed a reassuring hand on his shoulder.

"My boy, family is not just about blood...” He explained warmly. “You of all people must understand that. It's about love, understanding, and the willingness to build something together.” He smiled, squeezing his son-in-law’s shoulder comfortingly as the sea breeze billowed through their robes. “Your parents, in their tragically limited time with you, have instilled and encouraged so much courage and honesty that shines through in you to this day.” He declared proudly. “It takes a true man to not only admit to his fears, but to face them head-on, instead of abandoning both himself and those who rely on him. Whilst I never knew your parents, I can see how proud they would be of you.”

The corners of Sebastian's mouth quivered into a faint smile as he nodded gratefully.

“And as for us…” He continued, “We've seen the person you are in our girl's eyes, and that's all that matters to us. Why do you think I sent you my blessing in that owl? You took her under your wing from the minute she arrived at Hogwarts and have stood by her through all that she has endured, and now we shall do the same in welcoming you into our family, Sebastian. We couldn’t be prouder to call you our son-in-law."

“T-thank you, Sir.” Sebastian croaked, as the crushing weight in his chest began to lift further and further off him with each lapping of the waves on the shore below them.

“Father...” He corrected him, “if you’d like it to be.”

He grinned and nodded in approval, before gesturing back towards the pathway. As they continued their stroll back to Feldcroft, the evening sun cast a fittingly warm glow over the scene. Following the path weaving in and out of fields leading back towards the village, his father-in-law shared stories of his own youth, his struggles, and the joy that his family had brought into his life. Sebastian listened intently, understanding that he was being welcomed into a family that understood the value of acceptance and kindness, something he had never truly felt under his uncle’s guardianship. As the final rays of sunlight grazed over the fields, inviting the evening lacewing flies to begin their dances, they arrived back at the barn.

“You must visit us in Aranshire, soon.” He smiled to his father-in-law, who nodded in agreement as they turned through the gate to rejoin the wedding party. “Now that we’re rid of our beloved arachnid tenants, the place is almost ready to host its first guests!”

The elder gentleman threw his head back in a hearty laugh at Sebastian’s last comment, patting him on the back.

“Oh, Merlin, your sense of humour will go far in this family…” He smiled.

“Is that so?” He grinned back.

“Absolutely.” She interrupted, as Sebastian greeted his wife with a tender kiss on the cheek, “Merlin knows my cousins don’t have a spark of wit between them. You’ll certainly liven things up at the family gatherings in London.”

“Hello again, wife...” He beamed, snaking an arm around her waist before returning his trail of thought to her original statement, “I very much look forward to that.”

“Whilst you’ve been away, Ominis has already befriended Mother,” she smiled, nodding over to the doorway of the barn, where they could be seen giggling together as he topped up their glasses of wine.

“And what have you been up to in our absence?” He chuckled, presenting her with a glass of her own.

“I’ve been bonding with my new sister.” She grinned.

The idea of his wife and sister laughing together, walking arm in arm through the Highlands, putting the world to rights over dinner and drinks, brought warm, joyful flutters to Sebastian’s chest as a smile crept over his face.

“Ominis… He’s the youngest son of the Gaunt Family, no?” Her father queried, his brows furrowing together.

“He is, sir, but their name does him a disservice.” Sebastian replied, handing him a glass of Firewhiskey. “He is my oldest and dearest friend and has always despised his family and their outlooks... He practically disowned them when he began lodging with me last year.”

“It’s true, Papa,” she agreed, resting her hand on her father’s forearm reassuringly, “Ominis is one of the kindest and truest gentlemen you’ll ever encounter.”

“Well then,” he mused with a smile, nursing the warm Firewhiskey in his hand, “any friend of the newlywed Sallows is a friend of ours.”

“On that note,” her mother called, overhearing their conversation as she and Ominis strode over to join them, “I believe there’s a little matter that Ominis would like to discuss with you both…” She beamed to Ominis, giving his shoulder an encouraging squeeze.

Sebastian turned to his dearest friend queryingly. “Of course!” He encouraged. “Would you prefer to talk privately, or...?”

“No, no,” Ominis shook his head, “I don’t mind discussing this openly. In fact, I think the clearer my intentions are stated, the better.”

Sebastian tilted his head, puzzled. Looking knowingly towards Anne, his wife then grinned to him, raising her eyebrows in approval.

“Ominis…” He realised, “Is… Is this about An-“

“Not exactly.” He interrupted quickly. “I don’t think today is the day for… It’s not the time… Today is your… Oh, Merlin… It’s not that question. Not yet.”

“My, my… It’s rather touching to see you so flustered, dear friend.” He chuckled.

“Stop teasing him, Sebastian!” She lightly scolded her husband. “Whatever it is, Ominis,” she smiled reassuringly to her friend, “you can tell us.”

“Well… As you know, the name Gaunt is a heavy burden...” He began. “It carries with it an association that’s neither true to who I am, nor is it true to who I want to be.” He sighed, as they nodded empathetically.

“You are so much more than the name you’re forced to bear, Ominis…” Sebastian sighed. “If I could give you any other name, a name that lived up to your true character, then I would in a heartbeat.”

“Well, that’s exactly it, Sebastian…” Ominis chuckled nervously. “I was rather hoping, now that I’m of age to begin my own life anew, that I might relieve myself of the name Gaunt… And instead associate myself with a name that has always stood, in my opinion, to champion bravery, intelligence, tenacity and unwavering loyalty.”

“I couldn’t think of more fitting characteristics for you, Ominis. You need only claim the name, and it shall be yours.” Sebastian affirmed.

“… Sallow.” Ominis smiled. “Moving forward, I should very much like to be Ominis Mathias Sallow, if you’ll permit me?”

A surge of pride swept through Sebastian’s chest, as he struggled to keep his composure. He looked to his best friend, then to his wife, who met his gaze with her own adoring nod of approval, before he turned to the welcoming looks of his kind-hearted in-laws. He smiled to himself, chuckling in disbelief at how far he had come in such a short span of time.

“Two years ago, I almost didn’t have a family...” He mused aloud; his voice brimming with emotion. “Now, not only do I have my sister back, but I’ve gained a wife, parents…” His voice faltered as his gaze returned to Ominis, “And a brother.”

The two friends embraced, patting each other on the back as a relieved laugh escaped Ominis’ lips.

“You… You’d really do this for me?” Ominis asked.

Casting a final look over the people around him, Sebastian nodded.

“A very wise man recently told me that family isn’t about blood… It’s about love, understanding and the willingness to build something together...”

He beamed to his father-in-law, who nodded approvingly.

“We’ve always had that, Ominis. We may not be blood-related, but we’ve chosen to be family, which says far more about a person than forced blood relatives and names ever can...”

“I couldn’t have put it better myself.” Her father smiled.

“Looks like I’m no longer the newest addition to the Sallow family.” She laughed, throwing her arms around Ominis, before Sebastian joined her.

Tears welled in Ominis’ eyes as he gradually felt himself in the warm, accepting arms of four new adoptive family members.

“That settles it. Welcome, Ominis Sallow.” Her mother smiled.

Chapter Text

‘So, Matthias, eh?” Sebastian chuckled as they waved to the last of their wedding guests before the humble carriage pulled them out of sight of Feldcroft and on towards Aranshire. “Didn’t see that one coming.”

“You can’t talk, Sebastian Bartholomew…” She grinned, resting her head on her beloved’s shoulder as they gazed up at the warm night sky that hung lazily over their heads.

“You adore my full name,” he crooned, resting his arm around the back of her seat, “don’t even pretend to deny it.”

“I don’t deny it, my love…” She grinned, snuggling playfully into him as his lips pressed against her forehead with a loving smile. “Do you know what I adore most about your name?” She quizzed.

“What do you adore most about my name?” He indulged, deciding to humour whatever quip she had up her sleeve.

“Your surname.” She giggled playfully, seduction glistening in her eyes.

“And enlighten me, sweet heart…” He purred devilishly, pulling her onto his lap, “What’s so special about my surname?”

“Well, Mr. Sallow…” she hummed in a way that made his entire body melt, “It just so happens to be my surname, too.”

“You’re damned right it is.” He growled proudly, wrapping his arms around her waist as he traced hungry kisses down her neck, “Just wait until I get you home, my Mrs. Sallow…”

As the carriage dragged lazily through the hills leading up to the house, they gazed in awe at the twinkling reflections of Hogwarts Castle in the Black Lake as the night sky gleamed in the water’s reflection like a sheath of deep lapis lazuli.

“Merlin, it’s so beautiful…” She sighed dreamily.

“It really is, isn’t it?” He hummed, stroking her back in agreement. “I can see why my parents loved it here so much… I hope they made happy memories together, looking out over this very lake.”

“I don't doubt that they did, my love…” She soothed, her hand resting on his chest. “As will we.”

He smiled, his heart warming at the thought of getting to share in the joy that his parents experienced together. He turned to look at her, her hair now beginning to gently tumble out of her pins, as her amber eyes glistened in the moonlight.

“You’re so beautiful, Mrs. Sallow…” He whispered, as his hand caressed her cheek. “The most beautiful sight I’ve ever laid eyes on.”

“Oh, Sebastian…” She whispered into his lips, “My own beloved, my Sebastian.”

“I’m yours forever, my love.” He breathed, before kissing her tenderly.

As the carriage came to a final stop outside the house, he assisted her down and turned to thank the driver as he tenderly placed her luggage in the doorway.

Taking in her surroundings, her eyes squinted as she scanned the eerily familiar building, recalling the high ceilings and skimming the thatched roofing before her eyes locked onto… That cellar.

“I know this home.” She pondered aloud.

“Well, of course, you do!” He grinned, reappearing through the doorway as he deposited her suitcase inside. “It’s your home, now.” He declared proudly.

“… This was where your parents lived?” She queried hesitantly, concern filling her voice.

He observed the way her eyes fell over the house with an apprehension that he hadn’t expected. Admittedly, it was far humbler an abode than the grandiose London townhouse she’d grown up in, but she’d never struck him as being even remotely materialistic.

“Do you not like it?” Sebastian asked sincerely.

“Oh, Merlin, no! Sebastian it’s not that at all!” She gasped, realising how he might perceive her initial reaction. She grabbed his hands to give them a reassuring squeeze. “It’s just that… I’ve been here before. The last time I was here, this house was covered in…”

“Spiders' webs?” He queried, predicting the end of her sentence. She nodded, sending a small wash of relief through him.

“Yes…” He groaned, “Unfortunately, as I was too young to inherit the estate when my parents passed, the house was temporarily entrusted some senile local witch named…”

“Mary Portman.” She nodded. “She bred spiders in your cellar.”

“How did you-?” He queried, his eyebrows furrowing together as he looked to his wife, who cast him an innocent shrug. Shaking his head in equal parts confusion and amusement, he refrained from questioning it any further.

“Thankfully,” he continued, “they’d all been cleared out by the time Ominis and I arrived, and Mary was nowhere to be found… I pity the poor soul that had to shift them all, though. Wish I could thank them personally for making my workload significantly easier.” He hummed.

“Perhaps you can.” She smirked.

“Oh?” He crooned, intrigued. “Are you suggesting we spend our honeymoon playing detective to find our spider slayer? I assure you, my love, I look irresistible in a deerstalker…”

“Not exactly, my dearest…” she smiled knowingly, resting her head on his shoulder. “Only…” She turned his head to face her, “You’re looking at them.”

A sly smirk crept over his face.

“Well, how courteous of you to give me that head start on renovations.” He grinned, taking her in his arms. “Tell me, my love…” He whispered contentedly, pressing his nose to hers, “Were you truly so determined to wed me, even back then, that you rid my childhood home of all its pesky arachnids in anticipation?” he teased.

“Truly.” She smirked, her voice dripping with sarcasm. “As I was greeted with the mummified remains of Mary hanging in the living room, all I could think about was you carrying me over the threshold one day.”

She cackled playfully as he grimaced, his signature smirk twisting into an alarmed wince.

“Well, that’s not quite the welcome home I’d had in mind…” He shuddered, ridding his mind of the image she’d just conjured. “But speaking of carrying you over the threshold…” He chirped, scooping her up into a bridal hold, producing a squeal of delight from her as they passed through the doorway, “rest assured,” he grinned, “the only things to greet you here tonight are the warmth of the fire, a bottle of a fine mulberry wine that Ominis, who’ll be staying at The Three Broomsticks tonight, has kindly gifted us, and your loving husband.”

As Sebastian gently set her down, she smiled as the house lay utterly transformed before her eyes. The cold, sticky webs coating the room from floor to ceiling were long gone. In their place, a comfortable living room lay bathed in the warm, welcoming glows of the log burner, still positioned by the twisting staircase. Where a lone bookcase had once stood, a curved archway, with two bookcases either side of it, now led into a small kitchen, complete with an iron range, dining table and chairs, as large windows looked out onto the humble garden.

Watching his wife inspect his handiwork, Sebastian hung his jacket up behind the door, unbuttoned his tartan waistcoat and shirt collar and leaned against the bannister.

“Do you like it?” He asked tenderly, wrapping his arms around her waist from behind and resting his chin delicately on her shoulder. “I’m hoping that that’s a little changed from your first impressions of it…”

“I love it, Sebastian.” She replied, nuzzling his freckled cheek as her smile widened to a grin. “It’s beautiful,” she sighed contently. “It’s homely, it’s warm… It… Needs some wallpaper… Or maybe some fresh paint…”

He cackled aloud as she began to notice the bare plaster scraped across the walls.

“Yes, my love,” he smiled, kissing her cheek affectionately, “I couldn’t agree more, but I held off from adding any particularly finishing touches to the house, as I’d hoped that would be something that we could do together.”

“Ominis didn’t mind that?” She queried.

‘Darling, he’s blind.” He snorted, “It didn’t make much of a difference to him.”

“But you’ve had this house for over a year…” She mused, as he continued to repeatedly kiss her cheek. “Are you meaning to tell me that-”

“Oh, my dear Mrs. Sallow…” He chuckled, “My own Missus Sallow…” His breath tickled her ear as his lips traced her jawline, “I’ve known I was going to marry you since the day you took down that troll in Hogsmeade.”

“Oh, is that so?” She cooed. “Well then, Mr. Sallow, I suggest we start making up for lost time… Beginning with that bottle of wine.”

He chuckled in agreement, guiding her to the sofa before striding into the kitchen to find two chalices.

As he reappeared through the archway, he froze at the sight of her.

Her bridal gown lay draped delicately over an armchair, as she reclined into the sofa, wearing only a white satin corset, accompanied by cream silk stockings that were tied to her thighs with soft blue ribbons.

“You seem troubled, darling husband…” She purred, “What could possibly be the ma-”

As the sound of goblets crashing against the stone floor rang through the room, she felt the weight of his strong body pinning her to the sofa and his soft lips crashing against hers.

The scent of his cologne overwhelmed her senses as her hands entangled in his soft, unruly locks. His teeth dragged hungrily across her bottom lip, eliciting a honeyed moan from her as his tongue gently massaged her own. As one hand tenderly squeezed her thigh, the other pawed at her breast, still confined within the corset.

“Would you like me to-?” She breathed, moving her hands to the laces.

“Keep it on.” He growled, sucking tenderly at her neck as she ground her hips into his hardness. Her hands moved to smooth down his shirt, her fingers working nimbly at unbuttoning it as she went.

As his arms wrapped around her waist, her legs coiled around his torso in retaliation to feeling herself being lifted from the sofa. He strode across the living room, his wife in his arms, and turned onto the first step of the staircase.

“We haven’t finished the tour of your new estate yet, Mrs. Sallow…” He chuckled between passionate kisses, his voice laced with mischief, as they ascended the stairs.

“I have everything I need right here…” She whispered, her fingers tracing his cheeks.

Their tender moment was interrupted by a soft thud that echoed through the hallway, as the back of her head suddenly collided with a timber beam. The romantic atmosphere was replaced by a chorus of concerned "Are you alright?" and "I'm so sorry!"

She winced, rubbing her head, but the glow in her eyes remained. "Well, that's one way to get to know the place," she teased, a playful grin spreading across her face.

Sebastian’s worry melted into relieved laughter as he squeezed her closer. "I promise I didn't plan for that to happen, my love. Are you sure you’re alright?"

With a gentle nod, she replied, "Just a little bump, no need for a Healer... I’m sure we can handle a few knocks, can’t we?"

They stumbled on into the upstairs hallway in fits of hysterics, with Sebastian’s hand resting protectively on the back of her head to prevent any further casualties.

“What am I going to do with you?” He laughed, pressing a delicate kiss to her lips as they reached the door to their bedroom.

“It’s quite simple, Mr. Sallow…” She smirked, both of them relishing the way his name poured through her lips, “You’re going to make love to me into the early hours of tomorrow morning.”

“Oh, Merlin,” he growled with satisfaction, “it sounds even better when you say it…”

Chapter Text

As the first beams of morning light thronged the glass of their bedroom window, she awoke gently engulfed in the scent of her husband’s cologne. She felt his warmth radiating through the soft bedding as she nuzzled into his chest with a contented hum.

As her hands smoothed over his torso and across his shoulders, which rose and fell with his soft snoring, she smiled to herself as the impressive opal stone of her engagement ring caught the light. She slowly wiggled her fingers, watching the colourful hues dance on her hand in the morning sun.

As she continued to admire the miniature display, she failed to notice Sebastian’s eyes flickering open as his drowsy gaze fell on her. Mesmerised by the softness of her bare skin and the copper sparkles in her eyes, a contented smile crept across his face.

“Beautiful…” she breathed; her eyes still fixated on the opal.

“I’ll say.” He agreed, his voice still coated in a lethargic crackle, as her eyes darted back to him and he flashed her a dreamy grin.

“Good morning, husband…” She smiled, her eyes brimming with adoration as she wrapped her arms around his neck. “I didn’t mean to wake you so early,” she apologised, pecking her lips to his as his arms slunk around her torso and caressed her bare back.

“Good morning, wife...” He chuckled sleepily. “You’re worth the early morning.”

“Mmm, even when you’re half asleep, you still find a way to be utterly irresistible.” She beamed as he rolled onto his back, bringing her to lie on top of him in tow. She giggled as he squeezed her close, showering his collarbone in kisses whilst snuggling against him.

As his fingers entangled in her flaming locks, he pressed his lips tenderly to her forehead.

“Coffee first, then lovemaking…” He murmured lovingly, still half asleep as laughter rippled through her body.

“Alright, you sleepy mooncalf...” She grinned, sitting up to straddle him as the bedsheets slid down her body; exposing her soft, ample breasts to the gentle rays of sunrise.

He stared up at her, his deep eyes growing increasingly lustful as he savoured every beautiful curve.

“So,” she smirked, enjoying the effect she had on him, “I’ll just be getting out of bed now, to go and make us som-”

She was interrupted by his strong hands gripping her hips.

“Don’t you dare...” He purred, beginning to squeeze and caress her smooth thighs.

“Changed your mind, dear?” She hummed, her hips softly rolling into every touch.

The growing firmness beneath her affirmed her suspicions.

“My beautiful girl…” He whispered, his hands gracing her soft skin and tracing up her body. As he massaged her breasts, a soft moan escaped her lips as his thumbs brushed over her pert nipples.

“Do you like that, princess?” He murmured encouragingly, feeling the heat and wetness of her gliding against him. She nodded hazily as he began lightly pinching and squeezing her sensitive buds between his fingers, eliciting increasingly honeyed moans and gasps from her.

“I need you, Seb…” She pleaded, grinding against his throbbing hardness. A satisfied chuckle rumbled through his chest as he gently lifted her, positioning himself underneath her before teasing his tip against her folds.

“Baby, please…” She whimpered, clutching at the bedsheets that pooled around her.

Squeezing her hips, he slowly inched her down his length. They both cried out in ecstasy, her hands splayed across his chest as she leaned forward to sink down onto him fully.

“You’re perfect,” he whined dotingly, digging his fingers into her as she leaned back and her hips slowly began to roll towards his. He threw his head back into the soft pillow, loving encouragements pouring out of him as she began to increase the pace.

“Mmph, yes… Oh, Gods... Oh… Fuck.” He cried, watching in awe as she rode him.

She stopped abruptly, staring down at him in equal parts shock and amusement.

“That’s the first time I’ve heard you swear.” She smirked.

“You’re a Sallow now, darling…” He retorted, leaning up to scoop his arm around her. “We’re far more liberal with our vocabulary in this house.”

As he quickly swept her underneath him, her back met the soft cotton of their bedsheets as his body pressed on top of hers. He pushed into her once more with a soft grunt that caught in his throat as their lips locked and he began thrusting mercilessly into her.

“Sebastian…” She mewled against his lips as her string of cries interlinked with the sound of skin slapping against skin.

“Yes, my love?” He crooned rhetorically; his pace unrelenting as she whimpered beneath him.

“Oh, Gods… Sebastian!” She cried, hooking her leg around his waist as he pushed deeper into her, “You feel… So… Fucking… Good…”

“That’s it… Good girl…” He growled, relishing in watching her come apart beneath him. Leaning back, he squeezed her thigh, unwrapping her leg from around his waist before lifting it to rest against his shoulder as her breath hitched in her chest. He continued his deep, hard thrusts as he began to trace rapid, gentle circles around her tenderness. He felt a familiar tightness in her core as her back arched in climax.

“Seb… I… I’m going to-” She cried, interrupted by her hips writhing underneath him as her orgasm crashed through her. In the aftershock of her ecstasy, her name poured out of his lips as he spilt into her with a few final, aching thrusts.

As they remained entwined in bedsheets, their lips found each other in sweaty, lazy kisses before he collapsed beside her and they lay panting for breath in one another’s arms.

“I love you so much.” He whispered, his fingers tracing across her back.

“I love you too.” She sighed lovingly, burrowing into his sweaty, sticky chest as it rose and fell with his heavy breaths.

He pressed light kisses to the top of her head until she began to recognise the gentle snores rumbling through his chest. She smiled to herself, nuzzling against him as her hand traced protectively over his chest.

“Come on, Mr. Sallow,” she whispered into his neck, “time to get up...”

He murmured incoherently in disapproval as she gently pried herself out of his arms to sit up in bed.

“Alright, mooncalf,” she smiled down at him, “I’ll bring up some coffee.”

A smile flickered at the corners of his mouth as his eyes remained shut.

As the scent of freshly brewed coffee filled the house, she reappeared through the doorway to their bedroom, armed with two cups.

“Mmm… Bestwifeever… Iloveyouuu…” He slurred sleepily as she kissed his freckled cheek and settled back into bed.

Chapter Text

“Merlin, Sebastian, do we really need four copies of Twelfth Night?” She sighed exasperatedly, sorting through yet another pile of his books.

‘When it comes to Shakespeare, my love, interpretation is key.” He smiled, taking the pile of heavy books out of her hands with a delicate kiss before setting them on his desk.

“And where do you propose we keep these volumes of your various interpretations?” She countered, gesturing to the countless bookshelves in the study already overflowing with tomes and scrolls. “We cannot substitute any more surfaces in this house for piles of books…”

A well-timed knock at the front door put a pin in their dispute, sparing Sebastian from having to defend his book hoarding any further.

“That’ll be Sharp, darling.” He sighed, pressing a kiss to her temple before descending the stairs. “I love you, and we’ll sort everything out later, I promise!” He called, grabbing his jacket before opening the door to greet their former Professor.

“Good morning, Professor!” He grinned, ‘Do come in.”

As Aesop Sharp strode through the doorway, his gaze wandered around the cottage, taking in the juxtaposition of exposed stone walls and ornate furnishings. His keen eyes lingered on the splotches of various swatches of paint that adorned the hallway.

“You’re redecorating.” He observed.

“Finally making the place my own.” Sebastian chuckled, taking the whistling kettle off the range to pour three cups of tea. “Well, our own… Turns out my wife has quite the eye for décor.”

“Ah, yes…” Sharp nodded, accepting the cup that Sebastian handed him gratefully. “I’d heard that congratulations were in order.”

“Hello, Professor Sharp!” She called, appearing on the stairs. “What a pleasure it is to see you again.”

“On the contrary, the pleasure is all mine…” He smiled, as she joined the two gentlemen in the kitchen. “My congratulations to you both.”

“You’re too kind, Professor.” She grinned, stealing a loving glance at Sebastian.

“Please, call me Aesop.” He chuckled, sipping his cup of tea. “My days of being your professor are long over… Do I detect hibiscus flower in this?”

“Ever the Potions Master…” Sebastian smirked.

“My own recipe.” She affirmed, taking a sip from her own cup.

“Brewed to perfection.” He complimented.

“I had an excellent mentor.” She hummed.

“I’ll be needing the recipe for this later…” He admired, finishing his cup. “But for now, I think we ought to get to work, Mr. Sallow.”

Sebastian nodded, collecting both of their cups and placing them in the ceramic sink underneath the window before pecking his wife on the lips.

“Have a good day,” she smiled. “I love you.”

“I love you too,” he beamed as they departed. “Stay out of mischief!” He called back to her as the door swung shut behind him.

As the sun cast its golden glow across the emerald landscape, the dew-kissed grass crunched beneath their feet as they strolled, the air carrying the sweet fragrance of blooming wildflowers.

“It’s a comfort to see you so happy.” Sharp began, turning to Sebastian. “It seems a lifetime ago that you were constantly hunched over mysterious tomes in the Detention Hall.”

“I owe that to her...” He smiled, “You were right to pick her as your favourite.”

“I don’t pick favourites, Sallow.” He stated, “I do, however, give credit where it’s due.”

“Whatever you say, Sir.” Sebastian chuckled.

“Speaking of giving credit where it’s due…” Sharp continued, “You’ve done well so far.”

“Thank you, Sir.” Sebastian nodded. “I told you I wouldn’t let you down.”

“There’s an abandoned Poacher camp up ahead,” Sharp gestured up into the mountains. “We’ll apparate up there for today’s session.”

With the familiar warping and a sharp crack, the gentlemen found themselves in a clearing amid neglected canvas tents and decaying poaching traps.

“Today, we need to address something you’re all too familiar with…” Sharp stated, kicking away charred logs from a long-forgotten fire. With a swish of his wand, he conjured a large chest that fell to the ground with a heavy thud, as the lock and hinges rattled maliciously.

“Dark Magic.” He finished.

“Sir, that’s behind me.” Sebastian rebuffed. “I know what my Uncle did, and I assure you, I won’t-”

“It’s not about your using it,” Sharp interrupted bluntly. “It’s about their using it.”

“Sir?” Sebastian queried.

“Your opponents.” Sharp clarified, conjuring a handful of training dummies. “You don’t seriously expect Dark Wizards to fight with petty jinxes and charms, do you?”

“Believe me,” Sebastian hissed, “I know exactly what Dark Wizards are capable of.”

“And therein lies your problem…” Sharp prodded. “You’re still angry.”

“You expect me not to be?” Sebastian snapped. “They almost killed my sister! My only comfort is knowing that Rookwood got what he deserved.”

“Yes, at the hands of your wife.” Sharp retorted firmly. “Whom I’m sure I don’t need to remind you is also an Unspeakable. As far as Dark Wizards are concerned, she’s the primary target for elimination… Which is why it’s crucial that you keep a level head, to protect everyone you love.”

Sebastian sighed heavily, nodding in understanding as Sharp’s reasoning sunk in.

A firm hand squeezed his shoulder.

“You’re allowed to be angry, son.” Sharp soothed. “I’m angry, too… Not a day goes by when I don’t think about my partner… About what could’ve been different…”

Sebastian gazed empathetically at his mentor.

“What were they like?” He asked, causing Sharp to hesitate in surprise.

“They…” Sharp paused, collecting his thoughts. “They were brilliant; headstrong, fearless, a spectacular duellist… They had a killer instinct.” A faint smile flickered across his lips. “Not dissimilar to you, Sallow…” he murmured. “Which is why you won’t fall at the same hurdle as me… Because you’re going to channel your anger to better yourself.”

As Sharp recollected his composure, he went about arranging the training dummies in a semicircle around Sebastian. When he’d finished, a flick of his wand clicked the rusty lock on the heavy chest. He leaned his weight against the lid, preventing it from opening.

“When I open this chest,” Sharp grunted, “you’ll be faced with Boggarts that I’ve enchanted to respond to your deepest fears and present you with a series of worst-case scenarios… I don’t expect you to handle these situations perfectly on the first try, but I do expect you to learn from what you experience here so that you never falter in the field and remain vigilant. Do you understand?”

“Perfectly.” Sebastian nodded, wielding his wand. “I’m ready.”

As Sharp opened the lid, black smoke billowed out of the chest, staining the ground and eclipsing the sky like spilt ink, until they found themselves plunged into pitch-black darkness.

“Sharp?” Sebastian hissed, keeping his voice low.

“I’m still here,” came a familiar rumble from his mentor.

Raising his wand to recite a familiar enchantment, Sebastian hesitated; his instinct urging him to make a different choice.

“Keep hidden,” It whispered. “Know what you’re facing, first.”

He took a breath.

He took a step.

The smoke rippled around him as flashes of green and red began to obscure his surroundings. Muffled cries rang in his ears as the haze surrounding them began to dissolve into a dark, foggy night. As he strode further into the vision, the murmuring voices concentrated into malicious cries of “Crucio!” accompanied by the malevolent laughter that he recognised as belonging to the Elder Gaunts. As the bodies of muggles lay strewn across the paved street, they continued their barrage on the small Hamlet.

“Run, little rats!” a hooded figure cackled, as a family attempted to flee their burning home. “Pestis Incendium!”

A string of flames erupted into the sky, warping and coiling itself into a giant snake. The crackling flames mirrored its shimmering scales as it began to wind through the thatched houses, igniting everything in its path.

“Try and run from the might of Salazar Slytherin!” Marvolo bellowed triumphantly, as another hooded figure appeared from the shadows, dragging a small, distressed child in tow.

“Found him.” The figure grunted, thrusting the infant in front of the wall of cloaks. One of the wizards leaned forward to snatch the tearful child by the arm.

“Stop running off.” He scolded. “You’re a liability as is.”

As Sebastian observed the horrors unfolding in front of him, a chill pierced through his entire body as he realised exactly what he was being forced to witness.

“Ominis…” He gasped.

As the flaming serpent coiled around another building, flames billowing from its mouth, a young woman burst out of the doorway, coughing through the smoke.

“Please, sirs!” She pleaded to the hooded wizards as she fell to the ground, “Call for aid!”

As Marvolo strode forward, he kicked her outstretched hand, causing her to yelp out in pain.

“You dare address us, you filthy creature?” He spat in disgust.

“Teach it a lesson, Marvolo!” A dark figure bellowed from the crowd as he readied his wand. Pointing it at the whimpering girl, he paused; a sly smirk crept over his face.

“No…” He purred ominously, “Let us teach our youngest one a lesson. Namely, how we deal with pests like this...” He gestured to the small child in their midst. “Come, Ominis.”

As he was shoved towards his older brother, the youngest Gaunt’s wand shook in his quaking hands.

“You know what you need to do, don’t you?” Marvolo soothed.

Trembling with fear, Ominis hesitantly raised his wand, tears blinking in his eyes.

“I…” He stammered, “… I can’t do it.”

“Yes, you can.” Marvolo encouraged.

“No…” Ominis frowned, lowering his wand and turning to his elder brother. “I… I won’t do it, Marvolo.” He declared. “It’s wrong. I won’t hurt people like you do.”

Marvolo stared at Ominis, his eyes narrowing, before he suddenly lunged for him. Rage burned through Sebastian’s veins as he watched the eldest Gaunt strike the young boy.

“You will never defy me again. Do you understand?” Marvolo hissed through gritted teeth as Ominis whimpered on the floor beside the young muggle. “I’ll show you first-hand how it’s done… Cruci-!”

“Depulso!” Sebastian cried, interrupting Marvolo’s curse as he sent him plummeting into the cobblestone.

Before any of the Gaunts had time to respond, Sebastian had appeared in a flurried dash to stand between them and Ominis.

“Confringo!” He cast with an unforgiving slash of his wand. A whirlwind of flames cut through the veiled figures, dispersing them as he scooped the young boy into his arms.

With a swooping motion from Sebastian’s wand, a white light shot up into the sky. Thunder rumbled through the blackness as the skies suddenly opened; extinguishing the suffocating flames as the enchanted serpent dissolved into the clouds with a pained screech.

“It’s alright, Ominis.” He soothed as the rain poured over them. “They won’t hurt you anymore.”

“Who… Who are you?” Ominis sobbed. “I don’t know who you are... How do you know me?”

“My name is Sebastian.” He whispered, holding the young boy close. “I’m here to help you.”

“S-Sebastian?” Ominis whimpered, as Sebastian drew his wand at the sound of footsteps approaching.

“Don’t be afraid, Ominis. I’ve got you.” He hushed, stroking the boy’s head as his eyes darted around the darkness, his wand outstretched.

“You’ve got some nerve…” Marvolo called, locking eyes with Sebastian as he appeared out of the smoke. “Trying to intervene on family matters.”

“He’s my family now,” Sebastian growled protectively. “You’ll never hurt him again.”

“Stand aside and let me deal with him,” Marvolo sneered, drawing his wand. “He’s a pathetic excuse for a Gaunt Man.”

“He’s a CHILD!” Sebastian roared, as a familiar laugh rippled through the darkness.

“Yes,” the voice called, “and we all know how I feel about children…”

Marvolo’s figure began to twist and warp as Sebastian’s grip on the weeping infant tightened. He watched in horror as his stature began to distort into an all-too-familiar body.

“They should be seen and not heard.”

“You…” Sebastian snarled. As he raised his wand, the child in his arms began to writhe and convulse.

“Sebastian…” It wept, as the face of Ominis Gaunt was replaced with his sister’s.

As the body of a cursed, sickly Anne Sallow fell limp in arms, his knees buckled, bringing them both to the floor as Sebastian cried out in horror, the sound of Rookwood’s laughter ringing in his ears.

“You’re dead.” Sebastian hissed at the dark figure. “You died long ago... My sister survived your curse, and you’re dead… You can’t hurt anyone else now.”

“Is that so?” The voice of Rookwood retorted, as his visage dissolved, leaving the bare training dummy staring back at him.

“I thought you’d know all about vengeful brothers...”

With a loud crack, Sebastian found himself flung backwards onto the cold, stone floor of his family cellar, coughing and spluttering against a thick, smothering smoke that filled the air.

“Sebastian?” he heard his wife call.

He shot bolt upright, his eyes frantically searching for her amongst the dirty haze.

“I’m here, love!” He called to her. “I’m here! Follow my voice!”

His chest tightened as she appeared through the fog.

“Sebastian!” She cried in relief, running towards him.

“Incarcerous!” shouted a voice from the darkness, as thick ropes shot out of the ether and began to coil around her, binding her as she fell to the floor and struggled helplessly.

“Don’t move.” The figure boomed, emerging in a whisp of black smoke as it held its wand extended towards her, preventing him from drawing his own.

“Let her go,” he demanded. “You don’t want her. I’m the one you want.”

“She’s the one who killed Rookwood,” it replied, standing over her. “She’s the one who’ll pay.”

“Over my dead body.” He snarled.

“That can be arranged…” It chuckled, raising its wand. “Imperio!”

As a dreamlike state washed over Sebastian, he found himself pleasantly conjuring a blade into his hand.

“Kill her,” A soft, soothing voice implored him. “Plunge it into her heart.”

“… No.” He replied internally.

“Just do it!” The voice encouraged softly, as he nonchalantly raised the blade.

“I won’t hurt her.” He stated, his body straining to hold the knife in the air.

“But why?” The voice purred softly in his ear.

“… Because it’s my job to protect her.”

“What?”

“It’s my job…” he strained through gritted teeth, “To… Protect… Her!”

With a pained grunt, he threw the blade to the ground and knocked back his opponent with a slash of his wand as clarity returned to his senses.

“Emancipare!” He recited, releasing her from her bindings and pulling her up by the arm to shield her under his cloak.

“I’ve got you.” He whispered to her as she whimpered against him. “You’re safe. I’ve got you, baby...”

As the hooded figure regained his composure, Sebastian raised his wand above his head in a swooping motion with a cry of “Protego diabolica!”

The veiled wizard recoiled as he was engulfed in black flames. As they slowly died away, only a charred training dummy remained.

Releasing a raspy breath, his hands frantically cupped her cheeks, pressing firm kisses to her lips.

“I’m so sorry...” He pleaded. “The curse… It was…”

“It’s not your fault.” She soothed.

“I was so scared I’d lost you.” He began to sob.

“Sebastian, it’s-”

“CRUCIO!”

As a bolt of red magic impaled her, her eyes glazed over as a blood-curdling scream filled the void. She convulsed lifelessly in his arms as he could do nothing but look on helplessly, pleading with her to stay with him.

As her unconscious frame fell to the floor, carvings in the stone that spelt out the cursed incantation began to glow in a faint red light as footsteps echoed across the paved stone floor.

“It was the price she had to pay.” A familiar voice soothed.

“Show yourself!” He bellowed, blinking back furious tears as he raised his wand to the figure. “Let me look you in the eyes as I destroy you!” He spat.

A pale, calloused hand reached up to pull back the long, black hood.

Sebastian’s wand fell from his grasp as he came face-to-face with the empty shell of his sixteen-year-old self. His dark, soulless eyes washed out by his pale, skeletal frame.

“It was my job to kill Rookwood.” He croaked. “It was my job to save my sister… To avenge her... Not hers.”

Sebastian stared in terror at the illusion in front of him.

“If it weren’t for her, you wouldn’t know that Rookwood was responsible!” He reasoned. “She saved all of our lives!”

“It’s no matter…” The vision sighed, producing a glowing red item from the pocket of his school robes.

“The Relic.” Sebastian gasped.

As the familiar nightmare unfolded before his eyes, his wife's body dissolved into smoke as Inferi began to materialise around the pair, idling in a hazy limbo as they awaited their master’s commandments.

“With the right sacrifice,” he declared, “I’ll be able to avenge her the way I should have…”

“Don’t do this.” He pleaded. “I know you think you’re doing the right thing, but you’re not.”

“I don’t care about doing the right thing!” He roared, “I care about saving her!”

“This-” he gestured to the Relic, “isn’t saving her! You’re losing her!! You’re going to lose everything!”

As the pale boy faltered, looking hesitantly at the Relic, another familiar figure thundered into the space through the smoke.

“What have the two of you done?!” Solomon Sallow cried in horror, summoning the Relic and destroying it before their eyes.

“Solomon, stop!” Sebastian cried, watching the final dregs of humanity drain from his counterpart’s eyes as the Relic dissolved in his uncle’s hands.

As Inferi began to writhe and moan in anger around them, hexes and jinxes began to reverberate around the space as bolts of magic frantically flew out of all of their wands.

“Incendio!” Sebastian cried, incinerating another wave of Inferi before returning his attention to the duelling Wizards.

“She cannot be healed, Sebastian!” Solomon pleaded to the younger wizard, clutching his side in agony, “You must stop!”

“I won’t let her suffer!” He screamed in blind rage before the Killing Curse escaped his lips.

Silence fell over the void as the limp, lifeless body of Solomon Sallow hit the ground with a definitive thud.

“Is this what you wanted?” Sebastian spat in disgust. “Is this,” he gestured to Solomon’s corpse in anger, “how you planned on saving her?”

“I… I didn’t mean…” The frightened boy stammered, shaking in shock as his wand fell to the ground.

“You can’t pursue this path.” Sebastian pleaded, gripping the boy by the shoulders as tears formed in both their eyes. “It will destroy all of us. Do you understand me?”

“How do I fix this?” His younger self panicked as his eyes flickered between Sebastian and Solomon.

“Walk away.” He urged. “Walk away from the darkness whilst you still can.”

“I… I can’t…” He wept.

“Yes, you can, Sebastian.” He soothed.

“But… Anne…”

“You’ll find a way to help her,” he affirmed. “I promise… But this isn’t the answer.”

The young Slytherin shook his head. “Without this, I have nothing.”

“No, Sebastian... Without this, you have everything.” He corrected. “Only this path will leave you with nothing. You’re an intelligent boy, with so much ahead of you... I know you’ll find the right answer. Take all of this faith that you’re putting in the Dark Arts, and invest it in another solution.”

“Like her?” He questioned.

“Like her,” Sebastian repeated affirmingly, knowing exactly whom he was referring to.

“Do you know what the most powerful form of magic is in this whole world?” He continued, placing a comforting hand on his younger self’s shoulder.

“Ancient magic?” He hesitated.

“No, Sebastian,” He replied softly. “It’s love.”

“Love?!”

“Oh, yes…” He nodded confidently. “Hatred and anger cannot mend the past, but love will heal all ailments and protect all those you hold dear… So, promise me that, moving forward, you’ll allow yourself to love.”

“I…” The teenager sobbed, “I don’t think I know how to.”

“Sebastian Bartholomew Sallow,” He retorted firmly. “Not only are you surrounded by people who love you, but you are your father’s son, are you not?”

“That’s what Solomon always said…” He murmured.

“Well then, prove him right…” He urged. “Whenever you find yourself unsure of how to proceed, remember Father... Remember his smile. Remember his laughter. He was so full of love... He loved his work, his wife, his children... His life was brimming with love. Ask yourself what he would do.”

“I can do that.” He whispered, a faint smile flickering at the corner of his lips.

“Of course you can, you brilliant boy.” He smiled, ruffling his messy hair and handing him back his wand.

As beams of late Summer sun began to pierce through the fog, Sebastian rose to his feet.

“I think it’s time for me to go, now.” He nodded, gazing up into the sunlight.

“I’m going to fix this!” His teenage self called to him as the midnight haze began to clear.

With one final gaze back to him, Sebastian beamed proudly at him.

“I know you will.” He replied, watching bittersweetly as the young boy faded away into yet another training dummy, as he found himself back in the abandoned camp.

Chapter Text

As the dark haze cleared from his senses, the first thing to hit him was the overpowering urge to vomit.

“Sweet Merlin…” Sebastian retched, as Sharp handed him a nearby bucket and began palming reassuring circles on his back.

“I underestimated you, Sallow…” Sharp murmured. “That was… Something else.”

“Were you expecting something more along the lines of Acromantulas and dead parents?” A muffled groan retorted from the bucket.

“Didn’t have you down as an arachnophobe.” Sharp chuckled sympathetically, handing Sebastian a conjured rag.

“Hate the damned things,” Sebastian grimaced, wiping his mouth clean, “but I have a reputation as a fearless duellist to maintain…” He half-heartedly smirked.

“Your secret’s safe with me,” Sharp replied. “Drink?”

“After that ordeal?” Sebastian snickered as they began towards Hogsmeade, “You’re buying.”

-

Having watched her husband and former tutor disappear down the winding path out of the village for the day, she’d returned her attention to getting the house in order. It must have been shortly after midday that she heard the click of the lock on the front door.

“Only me!” Ominis called out in greeting, closing the door behind him.

“Welcome home!” She chirped, “Be a dear and put the kettle on the range, would you?”

“Come downstairs,” Ominis replied, filling the kettle with fresh water, “I have a gift for you.”

Emerging from the makeshift fortress of books and scrolls, her hand swept over the bannister as she clattered down the wooden stairs.

“A gift?” She repeated, “Ominis, you shouldn’t have!”

“Nonsense!” He smiled, handing her a cup, “Consider it a wedding gift…”

As he undid the clasp on his leather briefcase, a small pianoforte clattered into position in the snug space beside the stairs, accompanied by a small, plush stool that tucked perfectly underneath it.

“Merlin, Ominis, it’s beautiful!” She gasped, admiring the golden etchings of ivy in the soft rosewood.

“I seem to recall your interest in music, and Sebastian so adores your singing…” Ominis smirked, taking a sip from his cup as panic flushed over her face.

“I…” She stammered, “I don’t know what you’re-”

“He’d talk in his sleep in the Dormitories,” Ominis explained. “It got better as we aged. Before, he’d shout out or cry for Anne… But suddenly, he began to murmur softly for you. Normally, asking you to sing him lullabies.”

“You play, don’t you, Ominis?” She queried, her fingers tracing the pristine ivory keys.

“I’ll disclose my musical endeavours if you will…” He smirked.

Armed with freshly refilled cups, they strolled through the garden together, sharing their mutual passion and talents over coffee.

“Acceptance to The Academy? My congratulations,” Ominis hummed. “I so wished to study music further, but my family forbade me from even considering such pursuits at a Muggle institution…”

“Whilst I shall never agree with their sentiments, I can’t help but wonder if a blind pianist might raise a few eyebrows in the Muggle World.” She sighed sympathetically as he chuckled.

“Perhaps one day they’ll be ready for that…” He mused, as a gust of wind danced through the sweet wildflowers littering the grass.

“I’m surprised there isn’t further research into music and its magical properties,” she queried. “I thought we’d have a deeper understanding of something so universal. Surely there’s some form of magic to be found in it?”

“You’re the Unspeakable,” Ominis replied, savouring the last dregs of his coffee, “why not put together a research team and look into it?”

“It doesn’t quite work that way, I’m afraid…” She sighed. “The closest the Ministry got was beginning to research into Siren Song, but that ceased when Merfolk were reclassified.”

“You’ve been spending too much time with Nerida, my dear…” Ominis retorted as they both laughed. “Perhaps we ought to start a little research project of our own? Namely, a duet on that new piano of yours?”

“What an excellent idea…” She smiled.

As Ominis settled himself at the piano, a flick of her hand flung open the ground floor and mezzanine windows, allowing fresh summer air to pour into the house.

“Mozart or Haydn?” Ominis called, allowing his fingers to rest readily on the keys.

“Neither!” She smiled, digging through a dusty old suitcase to pull out some well-loved manuscripts. “How about some Schumann?”

“Excellent choice.” He smiled, as she placed the music on the stand. Retrieving his wand to identify the work, his brow furrowed.

“This is new…” He mused, his eyebrows knitting together.

“Clara Schumann… His wife.” She grinned excitedly. “This is a collection of her songs.”

‘She composed?!” He gasped, “I had no idea!”

“So few do…” She sighed, “Muggles tend to focus solely on male composers.”

“Oh, what nonsense,” Ominis scoffed, putting his wand away and returning his hands to the keys, ready to begin their impromptu concert. “Shall we?” He grinned.

As the first chords shimmered under his fingers, her voice joined in a complimentary counterpart that resonated through the house. Ominis was captivated by the beauty of her singing, his fingers dancing over the keys in perfect harmony. As the last notes lingered in the air, the room held a mutual sense of accomplishment and joy.

"That was exquisite," Ominis declared, a genuine smile gracing his face. "Your voice is a treasure. I'm honoured to have shared this with you."

“As am I with you, Ominis,” She smiled in return, her hand softly resting on his shoulder. “We must do this more often.”

“Well now that I know about this little gift of yours, you’ll struggle to pry me away from this piano, I’m afraid…” He chuckled.

“I don’t think Sebastian or I shall mind that at all.” She laughed in return, slumping into the nearby armchair, admiring the warm glow that the afternoon sun had bathed the room in.

“When did he discover you could sing?” Ominis queried innocently, his hands settling into some gentle Brahms.

“Well, I think all those years of singing Hoggy Warty Hogwarts in the Great Hall has proven that everyone in this family can carry a tune...” She smirked, earning an affirming laugh from Ominis. “But it was a complete accident, really. I’d planned on keeping it to myself, but of course he managed to find a way.” She groaned sentimentally.

“Why on earth would you want to keep this gift to yourself?” Ominis remarked as he continued to play.

“That’s essentially what Sebastian said,” She chuckled. “You see, I’d secretly auditioned for the Frog Choir…”

“Oh Merlin, not that nonsense!” Ominis snorted, “He’s a tone-deaf old fool. Black keeps him on out of apathy.”

“That’s exactly what Sebastian said when he found my rejection letter in his Quidditch Robes,” She smiled sentimentally, recalling the flush in his freckled cheeks and the sparks in his cognac eyes. “Merlin, he was so angry…”

“Angry?” He queried.

“For me,” she clarified. “Yet perhaps also with me, too, for keeping it a secret from him…”

“He’d never be angry with you,” Ominis soothed.

“That’s when I found out that he’d overheard me singing in secret a few weeks prior. I was up in the empty Music Room in the Bell tower, and he snuck in to gather toad sweat, can you believe…” She chortled.

“I absolutely can,” he smirked. “That’s got Sallow written all over it.”

“As have you and I now,” she winked at him as a blush crept over his face. “And to think, my marriage rests entirely on the foundations of that damned Frog Choir.”

“It categorically doesn’t,” Ominis stated bluntly. “I’ve never known a man more enamoured with a woman than Sebastian is with you in my entire life. He’s been in love with you since that first duel.”

“We’ve both been in love since that first duel,” She smiled as a gentle blush of her own began to warm her cheeks.

‘How nauseating…” Ominis teased with a loving smirk as she giggled at him. “Now, I simply must have another duet with you!” He declared, summoning volumes of music from his briefcase.

“Oh Merlin, more books…” She sighed exasperatedly. “I have no idea where we’re to keep these. It’s bad enough that he keeps a pile of tomes by his side of the bed!”

“Some things never change,” he smirked.

“I’d been thinking about cleaning out the cellar to expand it into a little underground library,” she explained, “but then I remembered…” She trailed off as Ominis shook his head in agreement.

“Bad idea.” He hummed, as a gentle silence fell over the pair.

Her eyes fell lovingly over the piano.

“His parents loved music,” she mused aloud after a few moments. “He once told me that his father knew an enchantment that made the piano play by itself… He put the same enchantment on an old piano in the Hogwarts Dungeons so that I’d have somewhere to sing away from prying eyes.”

“What a thoughtful gesture,” Ominis smiled tenderly.

“He always goes above and beyond to show me how much he cares…” She sighed. “I want to do the same for him.”

Casting her eyes over the plaster on the walls and the eclectic mish-mash of furniture, she turned to Ominis with a determined smile.

“Will you help me?”

“I thought you’d never ask,” he grinned, as the determined pair set to work.

Chapter Text

“There’s a specific enchantment on the Gaunt Library bookshelves that I think should remedy your husband’s book-hoarding problem,” he grinned, rolling his shirt sleeves up as they set to work in the study.

“Oh?” She queried, following him up the stairs. “Tell me more.”

“Well, you see, they’re enchanted to hold far more items than meet the eye…” He smiled, tracing his wand over each shelf.

“Sort of like Capacious extremis?” She asked, watching him intently.

“Not dissimilar,” he affirmed, “but slightly different…”

With two taps on each shelf from his wand, the pine bookshelves began to glow as copper etchings appeared in the woodwork. Once the glow had died away, Ominis lifted a pile of books with a flick of his wand. She watched as they dissolved into the shelves with a gentle swipe from him.

“It’s one of Aunt Noctua’s charms. She created it so that she could conceal her research from the rest of the family. I’ll teach it to you once we’re finished,” He grinned proudly.

“Ominis, you’re brilliant…” She smiled, as they set to work on the remaining towers of tomes.

As the room began to clear gradually, she paused as she reached a specific pile.

“What is it?” Ominis queried, sensing her hesitancy.

“It’s Seb’s collections of Shakespeare…” She sighed, gazing fondly at the intimidating pile. “Plays, Sonnets… Merlin, he has multiple copies of so many…” She chuckled. “But he seems so attached to them… I almost don’t want to touch them.”

“Some of them were his father’s,” Ominis murmured, as she took a book from the top of the pile, allowing her fingers to brush over the cover. “He’s always had a soft spot for Shakespeare...”

Ominis recalled the countless hours Sebastian had spent pouring over volumes of Sonnets over the years; how he would spend an eternity hunched over the pages, messily penning his own interpretations alongside the delicate print.

“He used to pick out ones he’d want to send to you.” Ominis smiled. “He’d memorise them… Write them out in workbooks… Namely in History of Magic… But he'd always falter when it came to actually tying the piece of paper to his Owl's leg.” He chuckled, settling into an armchair as he felt her apprehension.

“Go ahead,” he encouraged, “read some.”

Allowing the book to fall open in her hand, her eyes were drawn to the ornate handwriting that lay underneath Sonnet 104:

To me, fair friend, you never can be old,

For as you were when first your eye I ey'd,

Such seems your beauty still. Three winters cold,

Have from the forests shook three summers' pride,

Three beauteous springs to yellow autumn turned,

In process of the seasons have I seen,

Three April perfumes in three hot Junes burned,

Since first I saw you fresh, which yet are green.

Ah! yet doth beauty like a dial-hand,

Steal from his figure, and no pace perceived;

So your sweet hue, which methinks still doth stand,

Hath motion, and mine eye may be deceived:

   For fear of which, hear this thou age unbred:

   Ere you were born was beauty's summer dead.

My Dearest,

My heart swells with gratitude. Time has woven a beautiful tapestry for us, and I find myself in awe of the life we've built together. Watching Sebastian and Anne grow before our very eyes... It feels like just yesterday they were tiny bundles in our arms, and now they're running around, discovering the world with wide-eyed wonder.

Amid the joy and chaos that parenthood brings, I can't help but reflect on the passage of time. Our once-sleepless nights and tender lullabies have given way to laughter-filled days and never-ending bedtime stories. As we witness the first steps, the first words, and the boundless curiosity of our twins, I am reminded that, just like them, we too are on a journey through the sands of time.

As we marvel at our children's growth, I find solace in the fact that our love, too, has matured and deepened. Through the years, you've been my anchor, my confidante, and my greatest ally. I cherish both the quietness and the chaos equally; the ordinary days and the extraordinary ones, for they all contribute to the beautiful mosaic of our life.

With you by my side, I embrace the inevitability of growing old, knowing that every wrinkle tells a story of a life well-lived. Thank you for being my partner in this remarkable journey.

With my eternal love,

Syrus.

“Syrus?” She queried.

“Syrus Sallow,” Ominis replied. “His father.”

“He writes so beautifully…” She smiled, tracing the handwriting with her finger.

“It’s Sebastian’s most prized possession...” He stated. “Helps him to feel close to them.”

She nodded in understanding, turning back through the book in search of further annotations. As she was about to close it and abandon her search, her chest tightened at the sight of familiar calligraphy underneath Sonnet 29:

When, in disgrace with fortune and men’s eyes,

I all alone beweep my outcast state,

And trouble deaf heaven with my bootless cries,

And look upon myself and curse my fate,

Wishing me like to one more rich in hope,

Featured like him, like him with friends possessed,

Desiring this man’s art and that man’s scope,

With what I most enjoy contented least;

Yet in these thoughts myself almost despising,

Haply I think on thee, and then my state,

(Like to the lark at break of day arising

From sullen earth) sings hymns at heaven’s gate;

       For thy sweet love remembered such wealth brings

       That then I scorn to change my state with kings.

Mother,

The weight of the years without you and Father has become almost unbearable, and now, as Anne lies gravely unwell, I am consumed by the desperate search for a cure, to mend the shattered pieces of our broken little family.

In my quest for a remedy, I have lost all those who once cared for me. Ominis, my steadfast friend, has tried in vain to guide me away from the shadows I now tread. I fear I've pushed him away for good, blinded by the urgency to save Anne at any cost. I hope that, with time, he can understand the desperation that drives me, even if he disagrees with the choices I've made.

And then, there's her… The one whose intelligence and talent shine brighter than any star in the night sky.

In a foolish moment of anger and frustration, I wounded her with thoughtless words, calling her "ignorant."

In truth, she is the most remarkable person I've ever known. Amidst ongoing chaos and uncertainty at every turn, she has never faltered…

I love her, Mama.

How I wish you were here to meet her, to witness the brilliance that emanates from her being. You would have liked her, I'm certain. She possesses the same grace and wisdom that I always saw in you. Now, with regret clawing at my heart, I understand the gravity of my words and the pain I have caused her.

In her, I see a perfect reflection of the love and strength that you and Father bestowed upon Anne and I.

To you and Father, I apologise. I failed to protect Anne, and for that, I am eternally sorry. But I vow, with every fibre of my being, to find a cure for her; to pull her back from the brink of darkness and restore the light that once graced our family.

As I face the consequences of my choices, I pray that time will be merciful and that forgiveness will find its way into the hearts of those I've wronged.

I promise to make amends with all the bonds that have frayed.

May your spirits guide me through this turbulent journey.

With my love forever,

Sebastian.

“Oh, Merlin, Sebastian…” She began to sob, wiping the tears from her eyes. Feeling the warmth of Ominis pulling her into his chest, she wept quietly into his shoulder.

“There, there…” He soothed. “It’s alright.”

“He wrote to his mother after we fought in the Undercroft… When he called me ignorant…” She whimpered, wiping her eyes with the handkerchief Ominis provided. “I was so angry with him, Ominis… I thought I would never forgive him.”

“You were right to be angry with him,” he whispered reassuringly. “I was angry with him, too.”

“But I was ignorant!” She cried, beginning to sob all over again. “He was in so much pain and felt so alone… And all I did was further burden him with my problems.”

“Stop it, now. Look at me...” Ominis hissed, gently grabbing her by the shoulders. “You were not ignorant. You were a terrified, vulnerable fifteen-year-old, dealing with the weight of the Wizarding World on your shoulders. That is something that no child should ever have to endure.” He stated firmly. “Sebastian was also a frightened, frankly unwell, fifteen-year-old boy, driven to desperate measures… Neither of you is responsible for the other’s pain.”

Blinking back tears, she nodded at Ominis.

“Look at all that has happened since then… Look at this home you’ve built! Look at the life you’re creating together… The memories you’ll make, the children you’ll raise…” Ominis sighed, pressing a gentle kiss to the top of her head.

“My dear, I thank my lucky stars every day that you came along to save him from himself, and I am so grateful for your friendship… My sweetest surrogate sister.”

“Thank you, Ominis…” She whispered. “You’re the best brother I could ever ask for.”

“That’s the beauty of a chosen family,” he smiled sweetly as they embraced.

Closing the book, she placed it delicately on Sebastian’s desk.

“We’ll display this entire collection…” She smiled, wiping away the last of her tears, “With pride of place, right here.”

With a flick of her wand, the two bookcases began to extend; merging in the centre to create a display case, lined with gold leaf. As she finished placing the works gently inside the cabinet, she clicked the glass door gently shut before starting to trace an intricate pattern in the air with her wand. Mirroring the movements, golden etchings began to appear on the wooden back of the case in the shape of the Sallow crest, alongside a small, ornate tree containing the names of all the Sallows within its branches.

“A job well done, I reckon...” He chuckled. “Time for tea?”

She hummed in approval as he turned to descend the stairs.

“So, enlighten me, Ominis…” She called to him with a knowing grin, “When might we have the joy of calling you our actual brother?”

-

“Another round for myself and Mr. Sallow, please, Sirona.” Sharp smiled to her as she cleared away their empty glasses.

“That’s very kind of you, Aesop,” Sebastian nodded gratefully.

“Any man who can resist Imperio has earned both my respect and as much Firewhiskey as he can stomach,” he chuckled to his former pupil. “How are you feeling now?”

“A little dazed,” he answered honestly, “but I understand that’s normal?”

“From what I’ve seen in other victims of the curse, yes… Perfectly normal.” Sharp shrugged. “Unless, of course, you simply can’t hold your Firewhiskey...” He smirked.

“Much as I’d love to prove you wrong, I fear my wife wouldn’t approve…” Sebastian laughed. “Cheers,” he smiled, as the two gentlemen raised their fresh glasses. “To your brilliant mentorship.”

“And to your prosperous future,” Sharp returned, cherishing a swig of his drink. “You’ll make a fine Auror, Sallow.”

“… Do you think I’m ready?” Sebastian hesitated, nursing his Firewhiskey nervously.

“Do you think you’re ready?” Sharp retorted.

“I’m starting to think that it’s not really the sort of career you can ever truly be ready for...” He snorted, swilling the crackling embers in his glass.

“Which means that you’re ready,” Sharp hummed contently.

“I hope that this might be the first of many future nights where we can have a drink together?” Sebastian requested, “Just because our work together has concluded doesn’t mean that we can’t continue to stay in touch.”

Finishing his drink, Sharp hummed in contemplation.

“I fail to see why not,” he replied warmly. “I often stroll into Hogsmeade on Wednesday evenings after my final Potions class of the day. Perhaps I could call through Aranshire and we could take the walk together? I’ll be very keen to hear how you’re settling into your new role.”

“Sounds like an excellent idea to me,” Sebastian smiled. “I look forward to that.”

Bidding Sharp farewell as the deeper hues of dusk settled across the sky, Sebastian began the gentle stroll back to Aranshire, allowing the cool breeze to clear his head.

“I’m home, my love…” He called, as the door closed gently behind him. He hung his jacket and cloak on their familiar hooks before turning to see the fruits of his wife’s labour unfolding before his eyes.

The walls stood freshly painted in warm, mustard hues, as velvet curtains in forest green hung around the windows. Ornately patterned rugs lay delicately below his feet, as plush cushions in rust, gold and teal velvet adorned the warm leather sofas. A rosewood sideboard hugged the nearest wall to him, decorated with warm candles that wafted delicate hints of cinnamon through the room. His eyes locked instantly on the book that lay on top of the rosewood coffee table in the middle of the room.

The book that he’d recognise anywhere.

Calling out for his love again, he strode across the room to inspect it further. As his fingers affectionately traced the familiar etchings on the cover, he noticed a blue satin ribbon nestled between certain pages. Turning to the bookmarked sonnet, his eyes soon fell upon the beautiful script that lay underneath Sonnet 116:

Let me not to the marriage of true minds

Admit impediments. Love is not love

Which alters when it alteration finds,

Or bends with the remover to remove:

O, no! it is an ever-fixed mark,

That looks on tempests and is never shaken;

It is the star to every wandering bark,

Whose worth's unknown, although his height be taken.

Love's not Time's fool, though rosy lips and cheeks

Within his bending sickle's compass come;

Love alters not with his brief hours and weeks,

But bears it out even to the edge of doom.

     If this be error and upon me proved,

     I never writ, nor no man ever loved.

My beloved Sebastian,

As I write this letter, my heart is overflowing with love and gratitude for the beautiful soul that you are. In your words to your mother below Sonnet 29, I glimpsed the depth of your remorse and the weight of regrets that I know you have carried through the years. You need to know, my love, that forgiveness has been woven into the fabric of my heart since the moment those hurtful words left your lips years ago. Your growth, your strength, and the love you've showered upon both your sister and I have been constant reminders of the extraordinary man you've become. The echoes of your past, though painful, have only made our present love more profound.

From the moment our paths intertwined, I knew that you were destined to be my greatest love, my steadfast companion through life's twists and turns. Now, as we stand on the threshold of marriage, I am filled with a profound sense of joy and anticipation for the adventures that await us. In your embrace, I've found solace, and in your love, I've discovered a home. Your journey, marked by challenges and triumphs, has shaped you into the remarkable man I am honoured to call my spouse.

You, my dear, are the epitome of a perfect husband. Your unwavering dedication is a testament to your boundless love and strength of character. Through every trial and triumph, you have stood by my side, a beacon of unwavering support and protection. Your parents would be immensely proud of the man you've become, of the love and care you shower upon those you hold dear.

Your tender heart and unwavering commitment are the cornerstones upon which our family will thrive. Together, we will create a home filled with love, laughter, and endless possibilities. I can almost hear the laughter of our future children, echoing the warmth and love you've so graciously bestowed upon us.

As we embark on this next chapter of our lives together, I am filled with gratitude for the love that binds us, for the shared dreams and aspirations that light our path. With you by my side, I am whole, complete, ready to face whatever the future may hold. Together, let us embrace the unwritten pages of our shared story, knowing that forgiveness and love have paved the way for a future filled with happiness, understanding, and unwavering support. I am ready, my love, to embark on this journey hand in hand, as your wife, your confidante, and your forever companion

With my endless, enduring love,

Your very own Mrs. Sallow.

As tears trickled gently out of his tired eyes, he clutched the book to his chest; willing the words enclosed to engrave themselves on his heart forever more.

“Sebastian?” she called down the stairs, “Are you there, my love?”

“Y-yes, my love…” He called back, clearing his throat as he clumsily wiped away his tears. “I’m downstairs.”

Hearing the floorboard above his head creaking under her delicate footsteps, he turned to greet her as she appeared in the hallway.

“What do you think?” She smiled curiously, gesturing to the room as he scooped her into his arms and squeezed her close.

“I think I am the luckiest man in the world, with the most beautiful, loving wife ever known to mankind…” He whispered, tenderly kissing her cheek as she wrapped her arms around him in return. “And the house looks beautiful.”

“Come upstairs, love…” She soothed, running her hands through his messy hair. “I’ve drawn you a bath if you’d like one?”

“On one condition…” He whispered gently against her ear.

“Name it,” she responded softly.

“You’ll join me in it.” He purred amorously, tracing kisses down her jawline.

“With pleasure…” she grinned, taking his hand to lead him up the winding stairs.

Chapter Text

The usual cacophony of their passionate lovemaking was replaced by gentle, tender intimacy that night.

Holding her close, he caressed every inch of her body; cherishing each moment of their delicate union, worshipping the sensation of her skin pressed against his.

“You complete me, my darling…” He moaned against her lips, intoxicated by the soft mewls that escaped them.

A symphony of repeated “I love you”s wafted through the fine lace curtains of their canopy bed, concluding with the vulnerable whimpers of their shared climax. Ecstatic panting lulled into a harmonised rising and falling of their chests, still locked in eachother’s arms as sleep overtook them.

She was awoken in the early hours by his twitching and jolting, accompanied by the rumbles of distressed murmurs.

Reaching out to him, his skin was clammy to the touch. She whispered his name soothingly to no avail.

As one hand softly caressed his frowning face, the other quickly gestured to the window. With a flick of her finger, the lock clicked open, allowing a cool breeze to wash over them as the soft light of the full moon cast a gentle glow over the room.

“It’s alright, my love,” she hushed, brushing his messy hair away from his sticky brow as he continued to twitch, calling out for Ominis and Anne in broken grunts.

“They’re safe, darling…” She whispered against his cheek, her lips pressing soft, slow kisses to his face. “They’re safe. It’s alright, Sebastian.”

In a sudden jolt, he cried out her name.

“Not her!” He exhaled harshly. “Please… Take me… Instead…” He whimpered. “Don’t… Hurt…”

She rolled him into her embrace, pressing his face softly to her chest as he continued to shake in her arms and plead with their metaphysical captors, praying to find a way to bring some form of solace to his visible torment.

As she continued to hold him close, about to call out for Ominis, a strange sensation began to envelop her. It started as a subtle hum, vibrating through her very core. The gentle night air seemed to carry a mysterious melody through the open window that pierced her senses and reverberated through her soul. Compelled by an irresistible force, she strained to listen, her ears attuned to the ethereal music on the breeze. She concluded that it must be emanating from the Black Lake.

The enchanting notes beckoned her, like a call from the depths of the water. She felt an inexplicable urge to follow it…

In her contemplation, she almost forgot about Sebastian, who still writhed in the clutches of his night terrors. As he jerked in an anguished cry of pain, she was snapped out of her dazed state and returned her focus to him.

Persevering, the haunting melody intensified, wrapping around her once more like a warm embrace.

Unable to resist its hypnotic call, she found herself humming along as her consciousness was sheathed by an enchanted haze. Her voice, a mesmerizing echo of the mysterious song, seemed to harmonize with the soft lapping of the Black Lake’s tiny waves against its pebbled shores, which washed through her head as the melody was pulled ethereally from her throat. As the enchanting lullaby filled the room, a strange calm settled over Sebastian, as if the ethereal melody had reached into his troubled dreams, soothing the tumult within. Succumbing to the tranquillity of her voice, the terrors of his thoughts released their grip on him as he tenderly nestled against her chest.

As the last notes of the mysterious song faded away, Sebastian soothed into a peaceful slumber, his troubled dreams dissolving into the compassionate embrace of sleep.

Her vision blurred between memories that were completely alien to her; she saw deep, foreign waters and the fading visage of beautiful women as the lapping of waves submerged her senses. With the remnants of the enchanting melody lingering in the air around them, she sunk into a deep slumber beside him as their bare bodies lay interwoven in the wash of the moonlight.

-

“Did anyone else hear the Selkies last night?” she yawned, brewing a fresh pot of coffee as the trio sat down to breakfast.

There was a clink of cutlery falling against plates as both gentlemen paused in shock.

“… Selkies?” Sebastian frowned curiously, folding up his copy of The Daily Prophet to reach for a slice of toast.

“The Mermaids in the Black Lake,” she explained. “I heard them singing last night.”

Concern flooded both of their faces as they continued to stare at her.

“At least… I thought I did.” She shrugged timidly.

“We… We know what Selkies are, dear…” Ominis reassured her, “It’s just that… Selkies don’t sing-”

“Can’t sing.” Sebastian corrected.

“Well, quite…” Ominis nodded in agreement, “Selkies can’t sing. Not above the water.”

“It just sounds like shrieking... Besides, they haven’t ventured above the surface in centuries...” Sebastian hummed, sipping his coffee. “You must have dreamt it, dearest.”

“Perhaps…” She hesitated, “But it felt so… Real.”

“Dreams can feel that way, sometimes.” Ominis shrugged, an enchanted spoon stirring milk into his cup.

“Come to think of it…” Sebastian mused, “I had some pretty vivid dreams last night… But I do recall hearing singing.”

“So you did hear them!” She exclaimed triumphantly.

“I heard your singing, my love…” He corrected her with a tender smile. “And what beautiful singing it was, may I add…  Had me dozing into the best slumber of my life within seconds.”

“There you have it,” Ominis chuckled, “you’re a sleep-singer. Not a Selkie in sight.”

"Perhaps so..." She hummed reluctantly, nursing her cup of coffee.

Continuing their breakfast in a comfortable silence, all three were taken aback by the sudden tolling of the bells from the familiar tower across the lake.

“Sounds like the students are back at Hogwarts for another year.” She sighed sentimentally.

“Merlin, Ominis, do you remember the trick we used to play on the first years?” Sebastian chuckled devilishly.

“How could I forget?” Ominis chortled, “Oddly fitting given the turn of the conversation this morning.”

“Dare I ask?” She replied, cocking a suspicious eyebrow.

“Oh, it was all harmless fun, really…” Sebastian grinned. “Anne was the worst culprit. It was her idea in the first place!”

“We used to tell them that Mermaids had been spotted swimming by the windows in the Slytherin Common Room,” Ominis smirked. “They’d sit there for hours trying to catch a glimpse of one.”

“They didn’t even cotton on when I told them that Ominis had seen one earlier that day,” Sebastian snorted.

“Well, Slytherins aren’t exactly known for their intelligence now, are they?” She winked.

“Be careful, darling…” Sebastian tutted coyly, placing his shiny new Ministry badge on the table. “Not only did you marry a Slytherin, but you also married an Auror.”

“And you married an Unspeakable…” She retorted slyly, presenting her own badge. “We don’t answer to your department.”

“If you’re going to start flirting at work, I’m going to report you both to Wizarding Resources.” Ominis groaned before clearing his plate away.

“Stay out of this, Healer,” Sebastian smirked; his eyes still locked on his wife.

“You don’t even work with us!” She laughed.

“Don’t care, I’ll do it anyway.” He countered dryly, grabbing Sebastian’s copy of The Daily Prophet.

“Where exactly do you think you're going with that?” Sebastian frowned.

“To work! I like to pretend to read it to confuse the people in the ward!” Ominis called cheerily before disappearing out of the door.

“Well, at least I know where my papers have been disappearing to…” Sebastian shrugged, finishing the last dregs of coffee in his cup before squeezing her hand. ‘Shall we go, wife?”

“How are you feeling about today?” She asked him tenderly, “Be honest with me, Seb.”

He paused momentarily, allowing himself a slow, contemplative breath before he responded.

“I’m nervous, of course…” He nodded, before turning to her with a faint smile. “I’ll always be honest with you, my love.”

“And the night terrors last night?” She frowned in concern.

“Exactly that…” He replied soothingly, “Night terrors. Nothing else.”

“Seb…” She sighed, “You sounded so distressed.”

“They’re distressing things, my love,” he shrugged honestly. “No doubt they were brought on because Sharp put me through the wringer yesterday with that final training session... But it taught me that I’m ready to face whatever is coming next.”

“We face it together, remember?” She smiled, presenting the hand with two familiar bands around her finger to him as he chuckled sentimentally.

“How could I ever forget?” He smiled, pressing said hand to his lips before raising his own wedding band to her.

“Married life suits you, Mr. Sallow.” She smirked contently.

“Well then, Mrs. Sallow… You’d better get used to it.” He winked, rising from the table to clear away his crockery.

“Come on,” he chuckled, nodding to the doorway. “We’ll be late.”

“Can’t have that on your first day, can we?” She grinned, grabbing her coat. “I’ll get in trouble.”

“With whom?!” He exclaimed in amusement, “You’re practically above the law.”

“We could always say that I had to detain you… For Unspeakable reasons.” She purred, flashing her Ministry badge playfully.

“We are absolutely going to explore that idea later tonight,” he growled seductively, pressing a firm kiss to her lips. "But right now, we have work to do..."

Chapter Text

She awoke, with a groan, to the familiar pains in her lower abdomen.

Like bloody clockwork, she grizzled as she reached for the necessary materials, kept in a velvet pouch that was tucked discretely away by her side of the bed. She took a moment to congratulate herself on her nonverbal magic handiwork in cleaning the stains away before turning to wake her partner…

Only, he wasn’t there.

Concern flashed over her face; it wasn’t like him to be absent from bed in the mornings, especially on his days off. Normally, she found herself prying him out of the sheets, bribing him with a pot of coffee or a cooked breakfast to ensure that he actually got up and got dressed.

“Sebastian?” she called hesitantly into the hallway.

“Downstairs, love!” His familiar voice chirped.

With pained grunts, she assembled herself for the day before making the bed and hobbling tenderly down the timber stairs.

Turning into the kitchen, she was hit by the overpoweringly delightful scent of her husband’s culinary labours.

"Good morning, my love!" He beamed at her.

“You cooked breakfast?” She hummed as he swept in behind her, snaking his arms tenderly around her waist as he pressed a loving kiss to her cheek.

“But of course,” he smiled, his hands resting softly on her stomach. The kiss she went to plant on his lips was interrupted by a sharp wince as another cramp spasmed through her lower half.

“Here, darling, sit down…” He hushed, handing her an enchanted heating pad before guiding her into the dining room chair adorned with two soft pillows. Leaning back into the chair and clutching the pad to her torso, a soft groan escaped her lips.

“Merlin, Seb, whilst this all smells so divine, I’ve such a craving for-”

She gasped as he produced a small bowl of fresh strawberries and blueberries, placing them in front of her. He chuckled to himself as she devoured them ravenously, pouring her a cup of coffee and setting down a small plate of bacon beside the bowl of fruit.

“Bacon and berries?” He grinned, “I thought so.”

Reaching for his hand, she squeezed it thankfully.

“How did you know?” She whined in equal parts gratitude and discomfort.

“Well,” he sighed affectionately, perching beside her chair, “Not only am I your loving husband, who knows every inch of both your body and your mind, but I am also a big brother to a sister.”

Pulling up a chair, he took a seat beside her, clasping her hand in both of his as they rested in his lap.

“Over the last three years, don’t think that I haven’t noticed that you always feel under the weather exactly two weeks after a full moon… And don’t think that I don’t know exactly why that is, either,” he stated. “I know that it’s not a conversation that most men would be willing, or even able, to have with their wives… But please know that we can and that I am both willing and able to support you in any way that you need me to... Starting with knowing exactly what it is you're always craving when you're in this condition.”

Unsure as to whether it was brought on by hormones or sentiment, she began quietly sobbing nonetheless. Wrapping his arms around her gently, he pulled her tenderly onto his lap and began to rock her to and fro.

“Are you in pain, my love?” He whispered into her hair, to which she nodded with a whimper. “Oh, my darling girl…" He tutted, "We can’t have that now, can we?”

Murmuring loving words against her soft locks, he carried her into the living room to place her gently down on the sofa. Kneeling beside her, he began rooting through a small chest next to them.

“Aha! Here they are...” He mumbled triumphantly, presenting her with a small flask of a bright blue potion. “Ominis suggested we brew this for you. It’ll help.”

“What is it?” She queried, examining the small vial in her hand as Sebastian propped her up with a pillow and draped a soft blanket over her.

“Not dissimilar to a Wiggenweld, but he tweaked the recipe to create something tailor-made for witches,” He smiled reassuringly.

“Ominis is a Potioneer now?” She chuckled wryly, popping the cork out of the vial to smell its contents.

“More an excellent Healer who wishes to see you out of discomfort,” he smirked back. “But I brewed this batch after he shared the recipe with me, so you know you’re safe.”

She shrugged before tilting her head back to swallow the potion… She hummed pleasantly as a cooling sensation began to ease through her body, numbing the dull aches in her womb.

“There now, love… You’re getting the colour back in your cheeks already,” he sighed in relief, before summoning a refilled coffee cup into her hands with a gentle swoop of his wand. “I’ve already informed the Ministry that you’re unwell, so please don’t trouble yourself with any thoughts of work today.”

“Oh, Merlin… But they need me there today, Sebastian!” She whined.

They both knew that they didn’t.

“You spoil them, darling,” he chuckled, stroking her hair tenderly, “they won’t know how to function without you… Which is why it’s so important that the Ministry learns to stand on its own two feet.”

“Such strong paternal values to hold about your workplace!” She laughed softly, gazing tenderly into his eyes. “You’re truly an asset to them, my love.”

The sight of her curled up and so content made his heart flutter. His eyes scanned her lovingly; soft hair flowing freely over her shoulders as one hand rested on her swollen abdomen. A delicate smile threatened to grace his lips as he imagined an alternative scenario where her womb had begun to fill with life, instead…

“You know, there is another way we could rid you of this discomfort for a little while…” He purred suggestively, as a familiar mischievous glint danced in his eyes.

“I am in no state for that.” She giggled dismissively.

“I wasn’t talking about that,” He smirked, leaning over her to press a slow kiss to her lips. “Well, I was… But I rather meant that we could perhaps consider keeping your womb occupied for a little while…”

“Sounds to me like you just want to get out of breakfast-making duties, which is not a reason to have a child…” She retorted, melting softly into her husband as he traced his lips up her neck. “Besides,” she whispered, growing increasingly flustered, “I’m in no state to make love or procreate right now.”

“I adore cooking for you. I just think that perhaps we ought to put a little recipe of our own into action…” He whispered against her cheek. “It’s just a bit of blood, darling… I can put some linens down…”

“Sebastian Bartholomew!” She hissed, feeling his laughter rumbling against her.

“Alright, love…” He surrendered with a soft chuckle, “You’re right… You need rest.”

Squeezing her hand reassuringly, he placed a gentle kiss on her forehead.

“Can I get you anything?” He asked tenderly.

She shook her head, grabbing his hand as he headed back into the kitchen.

“Will you stay?” She murmured, her eyes twinkling with a soft vulnerability that he found it utterly impossible to say no to. “Perhaps… You would read something to me? It would help take my mind off of this…” She nodded down to the heated pad pressed against her abdomen.

He smiled tenderly at her before bounding giddily over to the bookcase, his hands skimming over spines excitedly before settling on one with a contented hum.

“The Adventures of Sherlock Holmes?” She grinned as he settled into the armchair next to her.

“Nothing like a little bit of mystery to take your mind off things…” He beamed, tucking into the first few pages of A Scandal In Bohemia as she listened contently.

As he turned the page into the final paragraphs of The Red-Headed League, he looked over to see her chest rising and falling in the familiar lull of sleep. He gazed warmly at her, watching in awe as all the worry and discomfort left her beautiful face. Shutting the book and replacing it on the shelf, he leaned over to stroke her cheek softly before heading back into the kitchen to clear away the remnants of their breakfast.

Hearing the click of the front door, he strode across the living room to greet Ominis before he could shout up the stairs.

“I’m just on a break between house calls,” he whispered, having been shushed by Sebastian upon his arrival home. “I can’t stop for long, but how is she?”

“All the better for your draught, she’s fast asleep on the sofa…” Sebastian replied. “I can’t thank you enough for that recipe. It’s such a relief to see her out of pain.”

“Hmm, yes, the drowsiness is something of a side-effect that I’m still ironing out…” He hummed. “But I’m glad to be of service, nonetheless. How long has she been asleep?”

“I'd guess about an hour or so?” Sebastian shrugged.

“She should be waking up in around twenty minutes,” Ominis nodded. “You may see a return in her discomfort after that… If you don’t want to give her another vial, you can brew her a tea with this.”

He handed Sebastian a small tin, containing some kind of shrivelled root.

“It’s dehydrated Lady’s Mantle…” He clarified, “It’ll blossom nicely when paired with some of that divine hibiscus she’s always brewing and should ease some of her pains.”

“Pretty sure we’ve still got some of that… But… Lady’s Mantle? I knew about its uses in beauty potions, but in healing?” Sebastian queried hesitantly.

“I know it sounds odd, but I assure you it’s been doing wonders for my ovulating patients…” Ominis soothed him. “Sirona mentioned it to me once in passing, and I’ve been exploring its uses ever since.”

“You always take such good care of us,” Sebastian smiled to his old friend. “How can I ever thank you, Ominis?”

“You can start by joining me for a drink at the Three Broomsticks tonight,” he chuckled, reaching for his coat before flashing Sebastian a knowing smirk, “Now that I’m making a decent living, I have something I’d like to discuss with you.”

Sebastian’s entire face lit up into a wide smile.

“About bloody time.” He grinned, patting Ominis on the back.

Chapter Text

The dimly lit pub buzzed with the low hum of conversations and the clinking of glasses. Ominis and Sebastian found themselves seated comfortably in their usual corner booth, an oasis of familiarity amid the bustling tavern.

"Ah, my two favourite troublemakers.” Sirona greeted them with a warm smile, already knowing their orders by heart. “The usual, gentlemen?"

"Absolutely, Sirona. You know us too well," Sebastian replied with a grin.

Settling in for the evening, the conversation flowed easily, with laughter punctuating stories of their recent endeavours. A sentimental smile crept over Sirona’s face as she watched the two young men chattering on as if they were schoolboys again. It had been a while since they could find the time to unwind like this together.

Eventually, Ominis couldn't contain his excitement any longer.

"Sebastian, there's something I've been meaning to talk to you about."

He raised an eyebrow, his curiosity piqued. "What's on your mind, old friend?"

With a nervous smile, Ominis broached the subject.

“It’s no secret that Anne and I are… Very fond of eachother,” he began tentatively, “and the truth of the matter is, I wish to marry her.”

A smile of relief spread across Sebastian's face as he grasped Ominis' hand in a firm shake. "You have my blessing, Ominis, without a doubt." He laughed. “Took you long enough to ask me... I’ve been preparing for this since we graduated!”

“Yes, well we can’t all just go rushing in,” Ominis retorted with a smirk. “Some of us need a little more time with these matters. I wanted to ensure that I had a career; a means to provide for her, plus a home for us to live in.”

“A home?” Sebastian queried, nursing his Dragon Ale as he reclined into the booth, “Tell me more!”

“On my last visit to Gringotts,” Ominis began, “I was informed that a letter, long withheld by the Gaunts, had been discovered in my Aunt Noctua’s vault. She feared that her pursuit of further information about Salazar Slytherin may lead to her demise, so she wrote a short will, in which she bequeathed a townhouse in Grimmauld Place to me when I came of age. It seems that she saw how desperate I was to get away from my family and provided me with the exit I so dearly needed.”

Sebastian's eyes widened with surprise and joy. "Your own home, Ominis! That’s incredible!”

A quiet excitement simmered between the two as they clinked their glasses in a silent toast.

“When did you find out?” Sebastian asked excitedly.

Ominis sighed, a mix of emotions flickering across his face. "Just recently, Sebastian. It seems my family thought it best to keep this information from me for obvious reasons. I'm in the process of sorting through the necessary paperwork with the Goblins at Gringotts… Changing my name legally has complicated matters, but we’re working together to try and find other means of proving that I really am the intended recipient in the eyes of those protecting the estate."

Sebastian nodded in understanding, his thoughts already spinning ahead to the unlimited future possibilities. "So, once everything is settled, when do you plan on bringing Anne home?"

A soft smile touched Ominis' lips. "As soon as possible, Sebastian. I want Anne to have a place she can truly call her own."

“On that matter…” Sebastian sighed tentatively, “My family, though not wealthy, still adheres to a code of conduct, and I can't help but wonder as to how you would like to settle the matter of a dowry?"

Ominis nodded; a profound understanding passing between them. He knew that, despite their close bond, they came from different worlds.

Sebastian continued, "I don't want you to think I'm questioning your worth, Ominis. It's just that, well, Anne is my sister, and I want to ensure her happiness and do the right thing for her."

Ominis placed a reassuring hand on Sebastian's shoulder. "Sebastian, my friend, I appreciate your honesty. But you see, I cannot accept a dowry. Not from you, not from anyone."

Confusion furrowed Sebastian's brow, prompting Ominis to continue.

"I come from a family of wealth," Ominis explained, his tone measured. "But I severed ties with them because I could not condone their inhumane treatment of those they deemed beneath them. I've seen the pain inflicted by both class and blood distinctions, and I refuse to perpetuate such injustice. I've made my own way in the world, and shall continue to do so when I am married. I would never ask you to part with your hard-earned money."

Sebastian's eyes widened in comprehension, an ever deeper respect for his oldest friend shimmering in their depths. "Ominis, I'm sorry if I've touched on something sensitive."

Ominis shook his head, a gentle smile playing on his lips. "No need to apologize. Our friendship has weathered many, many storms. I would never let something as trivial as money come between us. Besides, Gaunts don't require dowries; they marry their cousins, so it all stays in the family's vault."

As this comment, Sebastian's beer almost frothed out of his nose with laughter.

"In all seriousness, Sebastian," Ominis smiled after their laughter had soothed, "your family took me in when mine cast me aside. That, to me, is worth more than any dowry."

Sebastian, understanding Ominis' principles, nodded. "Anne's happiness is what matters the most. We'll figure something out,” he smiled. “Besides, you’ll have enough to worry about escaping the clutches of Solomon and his protective uncle routine."

Ominis laughed, "I'll have to muster all my charm to convince him, won't I? But I'm determined to make Anne my wife, regardless."

“She’ll adore that.” He winked, ordering them another round of drinks.

Their laughter and camaraderie continued until Sebastian shifted the conversation to a more serious tone.

"There's something else, Ominis... I got a letter from work today. They want me to form a team to head to Egypt. Seems a group of British Muggle aristocrats are descending upon the country to pillage ancient tombs and ‘acquire’ their contents with little to no regard for the history behind them, which has inspired a rogue group of Wizards to do the same and begin selling the magical artefacts they discover. The Sorcerers’ Council of Egypt wants the Ministry to intervene."

Ominis looked concerned. "Seb, you're still in your training. Isn't that a bit much?"

Sebastian grinned, pulling out the letter. "Turns out Sharp had a word with Spavin… Plus, my linguistic skills make me a valuable asset. They want someone who can read hieroglyphics. I'm their man."

Ominis chuckled. "Leave it to Sharp to pull strings. Who's on your team?"

“Well, I’ve got a couple of Curse Breakers, for obvious reasons…” He shrugged, “But we all know who I should be recruiting...”

“Indeed. So why haven’t you?” Ominis pressed.

“I know, I know…” He sighed, “We need her. Merlin only knows what kind of magic we’d be dealing with, and no one else has the ability to trace Ancient Magic... But I fear for her safety, Ominis. I can't help it; I'm protective."

Ominis laughed heartily. "Sebastian, she's more than capable. You know that. Your wife has proven that she is a force to be reckoned with time and time again. She's saved both our hides more times than I can count... She can handle herself. It’s you I worry about."

“Oh, ye of little faith…” Sebastian murmured with a smirk, finishing his pint. “But you’re right about her. She’ll shine out there.”

“When do you depart?” Ominis queried.

“Not for another couple of weeks. Besides, I still need to discuss it with the wife.”

“I’d do it sooner rather than later,” Ominis suggested with a chuckle. “The awakened mummy of Imhotep will be nothing in comparison to the fury of an upset spouse.”

“It’s like you’re married already, Ominis…” He quipped. “Nonetheless, we’re there to protect the dead, not raise them.”

“So, you haven’t read this morning’s Prophet then?” He retorted. “Seven mummy attacks in London alone this month! Muggles have been presenting them in their homes and then conducting what they believe to be 'séances' at social gatherings… No idea what they’re doing, of course… The Ministry’s had to Obliviate hundreds of their memories to keep it hushed up.”

“Come to think of it, Amadeus did mention that they had a few newly acquired mummies in his department that they were keeping… under wraps,” Sebastian smirked, eliciting a groan from Ominis as he chortled away at his own joke.

“On second thoughts, Imhotep can have you...” He grizzled.

-

“We’re home, darling,” Sebastian called into the hallway as he and Ominis hung up their coats.

“Did you have a nice evening?” She smiled, closing her book as he sauntered over to the armchair she was curled up in to press a kiss to her lips.

“Wonderful…” He smiled softly at her, tracing her chin with his thumb. “Don’t even think about getting up,” he soothed, stopping her from rising out of her comfy seat, “I’ll get us drinks.”

As Ominis reclined into the soft sofa to enjoy the warm glow of the fire, Sebastian returned with three glasses of Firewhiskey before plopping himself in the cushioned spot between his best friend and his wife.

“Ominis is finally going to propose to Anne,” he grinned, eliciting a squeal of delight from her that took both gentlemen by surprise.

“And you’re going to Egypt with your husband in a fortnight,” Ominis retorted, earning a further yelp of excitement as they both settled in for a night of long explanations.

Chapter Text

A familiar flush of bliss crashed through her body as the sound of her husband’s smug chuckling rippled through her ears.

“Told you it’d make you feel better, love,” he smirked, smiling down at her triumphantly.

Settling into a soft embrace, their eyes glinted in the flickering candlelight. Their gazes were tender and gentle smiles graced their lips.

“Did you ever think we’d get here, Seb?” she hummed thoughtfully.

“I suppose that depends on what you mean by here,” he replied softly, allowing his fingers to gently intertwine with hers.

“Graduated… Ministry Jobs… Married….” She chuckled sweetly, gazing at their interwoven hands.

“Yes… Yes, and… Yes.” He grinned, winking at her. “No doubt in my mind.”

“When did you know?”

“I’ve always known...” He whispered tenderly. “From the moment I met you, there was no one for me but you.”

A gentle blush crept across her face as her thumb brushed lovingly against his cheek.

“And what about you?” He queried playfully, pressing delicate kisses to the palm of her hand. “When did you know?”

Her lips curled into a smile as the memory returned to her.

“Herbology,” she stated.

“Herbology?” He repeated, his brows furrowing in amused confusion.

“Your workbench was right next to mine…” She continued, “It was the first time I’d heard you laugh. The way the sunlight illuminated your face… You looked at me with such… Warmth.”

“I only turned up to those damned classes to spend time with you,” he chuckled.

“How on earth did you get by for the first four years of Herbology without me?” She giggled.

“I often ask myself the same question, love...” He smirked, pulling her into his arms as they began to drift towards slumber.

“Are you excited to go to Egypt?” He murmured, a soft laugh bubbling up from him as he felt the nodding of her head against his chest.

“I’ve always wanted to go,” she sighed contently. “It’s where my parents met.”

“Oh, is that so?” Sebastian hummed curiously, his fingers running through her hair. “Tell me more.”

“Father was a Curse Breaker, he worked out in Egypt when Muggles first began to express their interest in funding explorations. The Ministry and the Council wanted to ensure that none of the ancient artefacts that they would “unearth” posed a risk of exposing our world to them… Mother was travelling out there. They met in Aswan, by the river. They would walk there every evening in the moonlight until it was time for Father to return to London, and Mother chose to return with him.”

“How romantic…” Sebastian smiled. “You’ve never told me that story before.”

“I know so little about it myself,” she chuckled. “They tend not to discuss it often… I assume that Father saw things in those tombs he never wishes to re-live or discuss.”

A gentle frown crossed Sebastian’s face as he tilted her chin up to look at him.

“You’re not afraid are you, darling?” He queried, their eyes locking.

“More curious than anything,” she shrugged gently. “Wouldn’t be the first time we’ve battled through Catacombs, now, would it? Whatever’s out there, we’ve handled worse.”

“That’s my girl…” He smiled softly, pressing a tender kiss to her lips as they slowly dozed off together.

-

The sun hung low on the horizon, casting a warm golden hue over the sprawling city of Cairo. A thick layer of dust and the scent of spices lingered in the air as the horse-drawn carriage made its way through the bustling streets. The minarets of mosques pierced the sky, and the intricate patterns of the bazaars beckoned them to explore.

They were ushered through secret passages and concealed doorways until they stood before a grand entrance.

“Just a moment, please…” A hooded gentleman murmured as they nodded to him.

After a couple of minutes, the ornate doors to the hidden chamber swung open, revealing the Council of Sorcerers awaiting them. The air was thick with anticipation as they stepped into the Grand Chamber; adorned with hieroglyphic carvings and ancient magical symbols that glowed softly in the dim light. The Grand Sorcerer, Rashid Al-Jadawi, rose from his majestic throne to greet them.

"Welcome, esteemed guests," his voice echoed through the chamber, carrying the weight of centuries of magical knowledge. "Mr. and Mrs. Sallow, we are grateful for your presence here. Our nations face a common threat, and it is in unity that we find strength."

Sebastian inclined his head respectfully. "Thank you, Grand Sorcerer. We understand the gravity of the situation and are prepared to do whatever is necessary to assist."

“You speak Arabic, Mr. Sallow?” Al-Jadawi smiled, fascinated by Sebastian’s prowess.

“I try my best to, Sir,” Sebastian replied with a polite nod.

“Most impressive…” He grinned, shaking Sebastian’s hand warmly. “However, perhaps we ought to continue this conversation in English, Mr. Sallow?”

“Of course, Grand Sorcerer… But please, call me Sebastian.”

“Very well, Sebastian.” Al-Jadawi smiled, replying in perfect English.

“Allow me to introduce you to my wife,” Sebastian beamed as he gestured to her, “Speranza Sallow.”

“A beautiful name for a beautiful lady,” Al-Jadawi nodded courteously, kissing her hand.

“If you think my Arabic is impressive, you’ve seen nothing yet…” Sebastian grinned proudly, his devoted gaze falling over her.

"We are honoured to work alongside the Council in this matter, Grand Sorcerer,” she smiled. “We will ensure that the Ancient Magic of Egypt remains veiled from the eyes of Muggles."

“Muggles? What an endearing British term…” He chuckled. “We refer to them as Al-Aadeyeen.”

“Al-Aadeyeen? It makes sense…” Sebastian shrugged in light-hearted agreement.

With a warm smile, Al-Jadawi gestured for them to sit, and the trio settled into a circle of intricately carved chairs. His gaze shifted between the couple, his eyes revealing a depth of wisdom and concern.

"Minister Spavin has told me a great deal about your respective achievements and skillsets. Sebastian, your proficiency in Arabic and hieroglyphics will be invaluable. But more than that, your wife’s further understanding of the delicate balance between magic and history will guide us in these turbulent times."

Sebastian nodded. "The magical world owes much to the wisdom of those who came before us,” he stated, giving her hand a knowing squeeze, “and we must protect it."

"Our mission extends beyond the preservation of magic, my friends,” Al-Jadawi stated ominously. “I shall explain more when your colleagues arrive tomorrow, but for now, know this…”

He leaned forward; his eyes intense.

“There is a rogue team of British Wizards who defile the sacred resting places of our Pharaohs, disturbing precious magical artefacts and awakening the spirits that guard them… As such, they burn our Kings and commandeer their treasures.”

The Sallows’ brows furrowed.

“They burn your Kings?” Sebastian queried concerningly, as the realisation flashed across his wife’s face.

“They’re… burning mummies? But Merlin… That’s sacrilege!” She gasped in horror.

Al-Jadawi's eyes hardened. "Indeed, it is an affront to the very essence of our magical existence. We entrust you with the task of putting an end to their activities. The spirits must be appeased, and the sanctity of our heritage preserved."

"We will put an end to this threat," Sebastian declared, his voice unwavering.

“And for that, we thank you,” Al-Jadawi nodded. “Tomorrow, we shall reconvene to discuss the matter further, but for now, you must rest and eat. After all,” he chuckled, “you are no use to Egypt if you are exhausted and hungry!”

-

As the sun dipped below the horizon, casting a warm glow over the tranquil waters of the Nile, they arrived at their temporary residence; a small but charming home nestled on the riverbank. The air was filled with the scent of blooming jasmine, and the sound of crickets chirping in the distance provided a soothing backdrop to their arrival.

The couple stepped through the ornate wooden door, their footsteps echoing softly on the tiled floor. The interior of the house was adorned with vibrant tapestries and ornamental vases. Sebastian's eyes sparkled with curiosity as he took in their surroundings, whilst her face lit up with a gentle smile.

"It's beautiful," she murmured, her voice filled with warmth.

Sebastian nodded in agreement, his gaze wandering around the cosy living space. "Indeed, it is. And the view of the Nile is simply breathtaking…"

Unable to contain his excitement, Sebastian began exploring the house with the thrill and curiosity of a small child who had just found his feet. His attention was drawn to a small door tucked away in the corner of the living room. Intrigued, he pushed it open and found himself standing in a quaint study, bathed in the soft glow of lamplight.

His heart quickened with excitement as he took in the sight before him; a collection of dusty tomes lining the shelves, their spines cracked and worn with age. The scent of old parchment hung in the air, mingling with the faint aroma of sandalwood.

She entered the room behind him, her eyes alight with fondness.

"Ah, my father's study," she said softly, a hint of nostalgia in her voice. "He spent countless hours here, immersed in his research."

“This was your father’s home?” He queried excitedly; his eyes still glued on the bookshelves in front of him.

“It was indeed,” she smiled, chuckling to herself as she watched him in his element, “Al-Jadawi must have made the connection and arranged for us to stay here.”

Sebastian looked up, a twinkle in his eye. "Your father had an impressive collection… This is a treasure trove of knowledge."

She nodded, a wistful smile playing on her lips. "This house was his sanctuary... His haven."

Sebastian's eyes gleamed with excitement as he perused the titles of the books lining the shelves. "Is this how you came to know so much about Ancient Egyptian Magic?" He hummed curiously, “How you knew about the sanctity of mummies?”

Her smile widened; her gaze distant as she recalled fond memories. "He raised me on Egyptian folklore and myths. From the moment I was born, he regaled me with tales of gods and goddesses, of pharaohs and pyramids. He instilled in me a deep reverence for it, a love for the ancient wisdom passed down through the ages…"

“And there I was thinking that you just paid attention in History of Magic…” He chuckled, gazing fondly at her as his fingers traced the spines of the books lovingly.

She chuckled softly, her eyes dancing with amusement as she leaned against a bookcase. "I’m afraid not, my love… Ominis and I would use that class to catch up on some much-needed sleep in fifth year.”

“Didn’t we all?” He snorted, his hands settling on a dusty, leather-bound spine with no engravings.

As he pulled it tenderly from the shelf, a flurry of scrawled notes and illustrations fluttered to the ground.

“Hullo…” Sebastian crooned curiously, his eyes squinting at the distantly familiar scrawlings, “What have we here?”

“What have you found?” She queried, before her eyes caught a glimpse of the handwriting. “Merlin, those are Father’s old notes!”

“He can read hieroglyphics, too?” Sebastian asked excitedly as he began frantically flicking through the pages of the journal.

“Of course!” She laughed, “It was part of his job, my love.”

“Your father's translations of these ancient inscriptions are… Incredible! He describes rituals, spells, and incantations that were used by the Ancient Egyptians to harness magic. It's something else… It’s… Like peering into a forgotten world..."

As Sebastian continued to pour over the journal, her gaze wandered to the window, where the waxing moon cast a silvery glow over the Nile.

A soft melody began to weave its way into her consciousness. Faint voices, like echoes from a distant realm, whispered in the air. She felt an otherworldly pull, a gentle urging that seemed to resonate with the rhythms of the river.

The voices grew clearer, and the soft melody transformed into an enchanting symphony. The ethereal music wove a spell around her, beckoning her towards the water's edge.

Sebastian, engrossed in his translations, glanced up at his wife. He noticed the distant look in her eyes and the way the moonlight seemed to dance in her copper gaze.

"Darling, is everything alright?" He called.

She blinked; the spell momentarily broken as she shifted her focus from the window to Sebastian.

"I... I heard something. Voices. Music…" She murmured, a lingering sense of the enchantment still clinging to her.

Sebastian closed the journal, concern furrowing his brow. "Voices and music? Perhaps it's the wind playing tricks on you."

Speranza shook her head, her mind still partially submerged in the haunting melody. "No, it was more than that. It was like... The river was alive… Calling to me."

Placing the journal on a small wooden desk, he joined her by the window, glancing out at the moonlit river as he wove his arms gently around her waist.

"The Nile has a way of captivating the imagination, my sweet heart…” He whispered comfortingly into her hair.

As they stood together, the music seemed to fade into the background, leaving only the gentle lapping of the river against the shore.

"Come now, my love..." He sighed, kissing her tenderly. "It's late. Let's get some rest."

Chapter Text

As the first light of dawn painted the sky with soft hues of pink and gold, they found themselves on a felucca from Aswan back up to Cairo. They glided gently over the serene waters of the Nile, leaving behind ripples that shimmered in the early morning light. The air was cool and filled with the promise of a new day.

Sebastian couldn't help but marvel at the beauty of the landscape, the ruins of ancient temples and palm trees casting long shadows on the riverbanks.

He stole a glance at his wife, her silhouette framed by the rising sun as she sat at the edge of the boat. Her eyes were fixed on the horizon, her expression one of quiet contemplation. Her long, flowing hair caught the sunlight, creating an ethereal halo around her.

Unable to resist the pull of her aura, Sebastian joined her. As he approached, she turned to him, her eyes sparkling with a mixture of serenity and anticipation.

"Isn't it breathtaking?" she said, her voice barely above a whisper.

Sebastian nodded, his gaze never leaving her. "Absolutely stunning,” he smiled.

“It’s certainly different to Scotland,” she smiled, running a hand reassuringly over his back as he sat down beside her.

“I wasn’t talking about the Nile…” He chuckled as a soft blush flushed her cheeks.

Her eyes softened as she leaned into his shoulder, their fingers intertwined. The rhythmic sounds of the river lapping against the boat as the gentle breeze swept through their hair.

“Mother and Father would have loved this,” he sighed, his gaze falling over the illuminated stones of the Temple of Luxor in the first rays of morning light. “They would’ve asked your parents about Egypt non-stop.”

“Did they travel often?” She hummed curiously.

“Not after Anne and I arrived,” he shrugged, a soft laugh escaping his lips. “They’d planned on travelling once we were old enough to attend Hogwarts, but they never would’ve wanted us to feel like we couldn’t come home for a weekend.”

She nodded understandingly, nuzzling his shoulder.

The conversation lulled into a comfortable silence as they basked in the tranquil ambience of the river.

“You know who would loathe this, don’t you?” Sebastian tittered, a mischievous glint in his eye as he cast her a knowing look.

She nodded with an equally knowing smile.

“Ominis,” they stated in unison, before bursting into hysterics.

“Merlin, I can picture it perfectly… Him sweltering in the middle of the desert in a three-piece tweed suit,” Sebastian hooted through frantic gasps.

“Complaining the whole time,” she cackled, clutching her stomach. “Could you… Could you imagine him on the back of a camel?”

Their infectious laughter escalated into silent wheezes as they clung to eachother, doubled over in one another’s arms as their bodies shook with laughter imagining the scenario.

"Oh, and don't forget the sand…” Sebastian finally managed to voice, wiping a tear from his eye, “He'd hate the sand.”

"I can just see his face now… A perfect blend of horror and disgust," she sighed, regaining her composure.

Their laughter gradually subsided, leaving behind a familiar warmth that lingered between them. He wrapped his arm around her, still chuckling. Her gaze wandered to his face, noticing the faint hint of pink on the bridge of his nose. She couldn't help but suppress a giggle.

"What's so funny now?" he asked, a playful twinkle in his eyes.

She reached out to gently touch the sun-kissed skin on his nose. "You’re catching the sun, darling. Your nose is slightly burnt."

Sebastian chuckled, a hint of embarrassment colouring his cheeks. "I suppose I got a bit carried away with the scenery. The sun is stronger than I anticipated."

She smiled. "I have just the thing."

She rummaged through her bag and produced a small bottle of ointment before applying a generous amount to Sebastian's nose with gentle strokes. He closed his eyes, revelling in the sensation of her touch as delicate traces of her perfume lingered in the air.

"I'm fine, love, really," he murmured, his voice laced with affection as he softly swatted her away. Unconvinced and undeterred, she leaned in closer, her breath warm against his skin.

"Let me take care of you, you stubborn mooncalf," she giggled, placing soft kisses on the freckles of his cheeks as he surrendered himself into her care.

“How did you know we’d need that?” He asked, nodding to the bottle of ointment and cocking a querying eyebrow.

“Because I’m your wife,” she snorted, “who knows every inch of your Celtic complexion and figured that you’d burn up in the sun, so decided to plan ahead.”

“We can’t all have your impeccable undertones, darling,” he retorted flirtatiously, scooping her into his lap. “That being said, the sun clearly worships you, my love… It’s like beholding Isis incarnate,” he whispered seductively, his fingertips tracing softly down the side of her neck and dancing over her tanned collarbone.

“You’ve been reading up on your mythology,” she grinned, running her fingers through his soft, messy hair. “Are you trying to impress me, Mr. Sallow? Because it’s working.”

As she finished tending to his burn, Sebastian couldn't help but swallow his pride and admit, "It was far too hot to sleep last night, so I read through your father’s journals. He referenced some of the myths in his findings."

She raised an eyebrow, a playful smirk dancing on her lips. "And here I thought you were the epitome of Scottish stoicism."

He chuckled, his cheeks flushing with embarrassment. "I suppose I am, but even I have my limits. Apparently, heat is one of them."

She laughed, her eyes sparkling. "Why didn't you wake me? I would have gladly shared the discomfort with you, and we could’ve studied the notes together."

Sebastian's heart swelled with adoration as he gazed at his wife. "I couldn't bear to disturb your sleep. You looked too beautiful to wake..." He traced the curve of her cheek with his thumb as he smiled tenderly at her. "I could spend a lifetime just staring at you, you know that, pretty girl?”

Always attuned to her reactions, he couldn't help but notice the rosy tint that adorned her cheeks.

"Pretty girl," she echoed, a teasing glint in her eyes. "You haven't called me that since we were at school."

Sebastian chuckled. "It's been a while, hasn't it? But you've always been my pretty girl."

Her gaze softened, and a reminiscent smile played on her lips. "Do you remember those days? The stolen glances in the hallways, passing notes during classes?"

He nodded, a fondness in his voice. "How could I forget? I’ll always remember that first duel. You stole my heart right there and then. Ominis called it love at first cast.”

She laughed affectionately, the sound echoing over the Nile. “It’s a wonder it took us so long to declare our feelings to one another.”

“You were the most beautiful girl I’d ever seen. With your perfect smile and those mesmerising eyes…” He sighed affectionately, gazing into them. “Underneath all that schoolboy bravado, my throat would tighten every time I tried to talk to you.”

"I remember thinking you were the most charming and intelligent boy in the whole school. And your sincere attempts at flirting with me were utterly endearing, even if they were a bit clumsy," she winked.

Sebastian mockingly gasped, placing a hand over his heart. "Clumsy? Insincere? I'll have you know my flirting with you has always been sincere and my skills have vastly improved over the years."

She rolled her eyes, a playful gleam in her gaze. "Well, I'm glad to hear that. Otherwise, I might not have agreed to marry you."

He leaned in, capturing her hand in his as he kissed her tenderly. "I count myself the luckiest man in the world that you did.”

“I love you, Sebastian Sallow,” she whispered against his lips. “My gorgeous, charming husband.”

“I love you, Speranza Sallow,” he replied, his lips curving into a smile as they pressed into hers over and over again. “My pretty girl. My beautiful wife.”

Chapter Text

“Merlin, how long does it take to purify the air in a small tomb?”

The searing heat of the afternoon sun bore into Sebastian like a blazing comet, forcing him to tug irritably at another button on his soft linen shirt.

The tie and waistcoat he had thoughtfully picked out earlier that morning had been abandoned within minutes of their departure from Al-Jadawi’s office earlier that day.

He continued to pace outside the sealed entrance to the remote tomb as the flaming heat of the desert sun licked relentlessly at everything it touched in the desolate expanse of the valley that surrounded them.

“It shouldn’t be too long now, love,” she soothed, struggling to repress her simultaneous amusement at watching her husband swelter and arousal from watching the sweat on his chest cause his half-unbuttoned shirt to cling to his toned body. “Feel free to come and stand in the shade, you know...”

“They’re trained experts, for Merlin’s sake!” He hissed, mopping the sweat from the back of his neck with an already damp handkerchief.

“You’re utterly irresistible when you’re all hot and bothered, you know...” She cooed flirtatiously from the shadows of the doorway, moments before one of their colleagues materialised through the seal.

“Apologies for the delay, Sir,” Ezekiel Ravenscroft called out from behind the muffle of the handkerchief covering his nose and mouth. “We’re almost into the final antechamber. We’ll get you both in shortly – don’t want you breathing in anything hazardous now, do we?”

“As soon as you can, please, Ravenscroft,” Sebastian groaned, mopping furiously at his brow.

“Of course, Sir!” He nodded, before disappearing back through the plaster with a polite nod.

“… Sir?” She crooned, a playful smirk dancing at her lips as she conjured a small cloud over Sebastian’s head.

“One of the perks of the job,” Sebastian shrugged, a sigh of relief escaping his lips as the conjured cloud began to drizzle soft rain over his head, “along with having Unspeakables flirt with me, of course.”

“Unspeakables… Plural?” She retorted, raising an eyebrow. “Is there someone I need to be having words with when we get back to the Ministry?”

“We’re ready for you now, Sir!” Ravenscroft called from the entrance to the tomb. “Be sure not to break the seal on your way in!”

Sauntering over to the doorway, he roped his arm around his visibly irritated wife’s waist, pushing her back against the stone wall of the entrance and pressing his forehead into hers.

“You’re utterly irresistible when you’re all hot and bothered, you know...” He retorted softly with a wry smile, before tapping his wand at the plaster and pulling her into the tomb.

Wands aglow, the team descended into the first antechamber, their footsteps echoing through the stone passageways. Bathed in the ethereal light, the tomb walls shimmered in golden hues as they unfolded before them.

Running her fingers delicately over the chiselled stone, the engraved hieroglyphics began to glow with traces of Ancient Magic. As they passed by treasures and offerings left to the anonymous Pharaoh, the rooms began to come to life in her eyes; glimmering from floor to ceiling in the familiar traces that her eyes had grown accustomed to.

“Be careful,” she whispered to the three gentlemen, “everything I can see is laced with Ancient Magic.”

The two Curse Breakers nodded understandingly before focusing their attention on the artefacts in front of them. Their incantations echoed through the cavernous space as Sebastian continued to sweep his wand over the tomb walls, translating as he went. He paused as his wand hovered over a specific set of engravings. Noticing the shift in his focus, she lingered by his side as his brow furrowed.

“What have you found?” She whispered.

“A name, by the looks of it…” He murmured. “But it’s not a Pharaoh I know, nor is it one I’ve even heard of...”

“In this Cartouche?” She queried, her fingers tracing the etchings in the stone.

“Clever girl,” he grinned at her as a familiar glow of pride warmed his chest, “you’re catching on.”

“These engravings in particular are glowing,” she observed. “The Ancient Egyptians believed that a name possessed magical abilities to resuscitate the dead, so it makes sense that it should be charged with ancient magic.”

“Therefore, it must be a name,” Sebastian hummed in agreement.

“So, what is the name?” She pressed, watching his brow furrow in hesitation over the hieroglyphics.

“... Akhenaten,” he stated.

The name hung in the air, and a hushed silence fell over the tomb. She felt an energy awaken; a tangible presence, entombed within the very walls that surrounded them.

Her eyes widened in shock, her breath catching as the weight of the revelation settled upon her.

"Akhenaten?" she repeated; her voice barely a whisper. "Sebastian, are you sure?"

Sebastian nodded; his eyes fixed on the hieroglyphics. Ever perceptive to the nuances of her emotions, he immediately noticed the change in her demeanour. Her eyes glistened with unshed tears, and her hands trembled as they hovered over the hieroglyphics.

"Who was he?” he asked, his voice filled with a gentle concern.

She took a steadying breath, trying to compose herself. "Akhenaten was a visionary Pharaoh," she began, her voice carrying a mixture of awe and reverence. "He challenged the traditional beliefs of polytheistic worship and embraced the idea of a single, all-encompassing deity… The Aten. Symbolised by a giant sun disc."

“The Aten?” Sebastian repeated, “A sun disk? I’ve seen that somewhere…”

Taking her hand, he led her back to a wall adorned with a magnificent engraving of a radiant sun disc from which beams of light extended in all directions.

“Here…” He whispered, raising his wand high above their heads to illuminate the full engraving of the intricate depiction. “This symbol – the Aten – it's not just a representation of a deity… It’s all-encompassing. It’s a beacon of power.”

Her eyes widened in recognition as she beheld the majestic image, its rays of light extending endlessly outward.

"I’ve seen this before…” She whispered; her voice tinged with awe. "A vast source of Ancient Magic, radiating light and energy..."

Panic prickled at her skin.

“It's just like the repository underneath Hogwarts," she gasped.

Sebastian's heart raced as the pieces of the puzzle fell into place. "Akhenaten wielded Ancient Magic…" He realised, the revelation striking him like a bolt of lightning. "Just like you.”

“His devotion to the Aten was more than a religious belief," she continued, her voice tinged with a sense of urgency. "It was intertwined with his ability to harness Ancient Magic. The Aten served as a conduit for his powers, a source of light and energy... Like the sun."

Sebastian's eyes gleamed with fascination. "And what happened to him?" he pressed.

"His vision faced fierce opposition.” She stated. “The priests and the people rejected his radical reforms. After his death, he was all but erased from history. His city, Amarna, was abandoned, and his name was chiselled away from monuments. Akhenaten became a Pharaoh condemned to obscurity; a heretic in the eyes of those who rewrote history."

Sebastian's eyes reflected a sympathy that went beyond mere historical intrigue.

"To be an outcast, condemned for your beliefs and then erased from history… It's a fate that no one deserves," he sighed.

Her eyes clouded with fear.

“… Isidora.” She croaked.

The air in the tomb hung heavily with the weight of lost centuries as they grappled with the implications of the discovery. The flickering light from their wands cast dancing shadows on the ancient stories that adorned the walls, a silent witness to the unravelling of a history long denied.

“They destroyed them, Sebastian.” She stated, her voice barely a whisper. “They wrote them both out of history and labelled them heretics.”

Sebastian's heart ached at the vulnerability in her voice. He reached for her hand, squeezing it gently, an unspoken promise of solidarity.

“What if… What if they come for me?” She whimpered.

“I won’t let them.” He replied, his voice gripped with an intense, protective determination. “I’ll burn the world to ashes before I let anything happen to you.”

“What if they have a reason to, Seb?” She replied urgently, sobs catching in her throat. “What if they were heretics, and I’m just like them? What if I go mad with power, too?”

Intertwining their fingers, he pulled her into his embrace.

“Look at me,” he soothed, tilting her chin up as their eyes locked. “You’re nothing like Isidora or Akhenaten… You proved yourself to the Keepers all those years ago and saved all our lives in the process. You chose to protect the repository, filled with the Ancient Magic that Isidora put there in the first place… The very same Ancient Magic that Akhenaten wielded throughout his reign as his source of power… You didn't try to harness or manipulate it, you sealed it away for good.”

Her eyes welled with tears as Sebastian continued to reassure her.

“Do you remember The Relic I sought? The path into the darkness I almost took? Remember when I was on the verge of madness, consumed by the pursuit of Dark Magic?” He whispered, cupping her face gently as his thumbs wiped away the tears falling down her cheeks. “You talked me out of the abyss and showed me the light… You brought me back. Even in my darkest hour, you loved and supported me. You are a blessing, not a curse, my love. You have the purest and kindest heart of anyone I’ve ever encountered, and you’ve only ever used your powers to better the world and save countless lives… You’re not a heretic, you’re a hero.”

She buried her face in Sebastian's chest, her tears mingling with his shirt as she clung to him for comfort.

"I love you,” she whispered, her voice muffled against his chest.

Sebastian held her tight, his arms a protective shield around her trembling form.

"And I love you, my darling girl," he murmured, pressing a tender kiss to her forehead. “I can’t promise that everyone will always understand your gift, but I can promise that you’re not defined by those who shared it… Nor are you bound to suffer the same fate as them. They’ll write your achievements into the constellations one day, my love. Trust me.”

Suddenly, the tranquillity that had settled over the tomb was shattered by distant rumbles, followed by the unmistakable murmur of British voices echoing through the chambers.

“We’ve got company,” Sebastian hissed, pulling her back towards the chamber that lay furthest away from the incoming disruptions, reconvening with their colleagues.

“These must be the bandits that Al-Jadawi briefed us about,” Ravenscroft whispered as they lurched around pillars to keep out of sight.

"Stay hidden as we approach them," Sebastian instructed, his voice low with urgency. "We mustn’t alert them to our presence yet. We need to find out what they’re after."

Under the guise of disillusionment charms, they crept through the chambers, keeping out of sight and listening intently as the bandits conversed amongst themselves, carelessly turning over the Pharaoh’s ornate burial chamber.

"I'm telling you, it has to be here somewhere," one of the bandits muttered, frustration evident in his tone.

"But we've searched every inch of this tomb," another replied, his voice tinged with desperation. "If we don't find it soon, he’ll have our heads."

“I don’t see why we can’t just bring any of these artefacts back to him…” The third one called from a corner of the chamber, “It’s not like he knows what it looks like.”

“He knows a damn sight more about it than any of us do,” the first one retorted, leering over the beautifully decorated wooden sarcophagus that lay within the stone holding. “Whose tomb is this, anyway? This one’s had its face scraped off.”

“They defaced his coffin…” Speranza murmured breathlessly, feeling the warmth of Sebastian’s protective hand grace her shoulder.

“We’re not after just any old Relic, you morons,” the second bandit snapped, “we need the Ankh, and it’ll be in there.” He pointed towards the sarcophagus.

“The Ankh?” Sebastian repeated under his breath, exchanging confused looks with his team.

As the bandits approached the grand sarcophagus, wands in hand, the air grew heavy with anticipation. With reckless abandon, a gesture with their wands pried open the ancient coffin, disturbing the Pharaoh's eternal slumber.

The chamber trembled as the seal was broken, and a gust of stale air escaped with a muffled scream that resounded through the chambers like a call to arms. She shuddered as the Ancient Magic embedded in the tomb and coursing through her veins rebelled against the intrusion. The ground shook violently and from the shadows, skeletal bodies clad in tattered burial wrappings began to appear, as if from nowhere. Their outstretched hands reached for the intruders as their hazed eyes were aglow with fury.

Within seconds, chaos erupted as the terrified intruders became aware of their assailants and began to sling poorly aimed fire spells around the space.

“Get to the Pharaoh and ward off the mummies!” Sebastian cried, springing into action, “I’ll deal with the bandits.”

Spells flashed, wands clashed, and the ancient chamber echoed with the sound of magical warfare. The mummies, now animated protectors of the tomb, lumbered towards the intruders, their movements eerie and unnatural. Panic gripped the room as the Curse Breakers found themselves caught in the chaos of battling both the bandits and the awakened mummies.

“Protego Maxima, Fianto Duri!” She cried, tracing a shield around the disturbed sarcophagus before dodging the flailing, bandaged limbs that swung towards her.

Having disarmed two bandits, one of whom now lay unconscious on the floor, Sebastian narrowly avoided the crackling flame that shot past his shoulder.

The wandless bandit sprinted towards the sarcophagus, only to be met with her knockback jinx that threw him into the wall. As his vision blurred and realigned, his chest tightened as he saw a flash of bright red hair in the crossfire of spells.

“It’s her!” He screamed to his associate, still locked in a duel with Sebastian, “It’s the one from the Highlands! She’s here!”

Halting in his tracks, his colleague’s eyes scanned the room in a panicked flurry.

“The Relic’s not here, anyway!” He called back, his wand still locked on Sebastian. “Retreat, and alert Rookwood!” He cried, grabbing his unconscious colleague and apparating out of the chaos before Sebastian could hit him with a jinx.

Rookwood?

Sebastian's blood ran cold.

Surely, this couldn’t be the same Rookwood?

It wasn’t possible.

Rookwood was dead.

Paralysed in thought, Sebastian became numb to his surroundings as the sound of his rapid heartbeat pounded in his ears. His mind was a mess of conflicting emotions; memories of his sister's suffering flooded his thoughts, intertwining with the fear and torment that monster had subjected his love to…

How could Rookwood be involved in this?

Blinded by his panic, he failed to notice the looming, bandaged figure towering over him.

She turned instinctively, her eyes widening in terror as she saw the mummy looming over her unsuspecting husband. Without a second thought, she screamed, fear coursing through her veins, and thrust her arm forward, as if to shield him from his attacker.

A surge of magic rippled through her, resonating with that woven into the very fabric of the tomb. The air crackled with an otherworldly force as her fingertips tingled with an electric charge, connecting her to the ancient power source within her. Time seemed to slow as her hand reached its zenith, her fingers outstretched. The familiar ethereal glow danced along the edges of her outstretched arm, casting an eerie light on the intricate hieroglyphs adorning the walls.

In that critical moment, a connection was forged.

The mummy suddenly halted in its tracks. Bandages hung loosely from its desiccated form as it stood frozen, caught between the realms of the living and the dead as it hovered motionlessly over the pale-faced and trembling Sebastian, braced for its impact.

The words of a long-forgotten incantation whispered through her mind, as if the very tomb itself imparted its secrets to her. The magic flowing through her surged, enveloping all the halted, undead guardians in a radiant aura.

“Don’t... Touch… Him.” She stammered, an unfamiliar language falling from her lips, her outstretched palm trembling.

With an almost reverent obedience, the mummy responded to her command. Abandoning its pursuit of Sebastian, it leant back, adjusting its stance before striding slowly across the room to kneel before her. As all the mummies came to kneel in turn, the glow in their eyes shifted from enraged malevolence to a subdued reverence.

Sebastian, unable to comprehend what was unfolding before him, joined his colleagues watching in stunned silence. The once-advancing mummies now knelt, seemingly under the command of his wife. His eyes widened as he took in the surreal scene, trying to understand the ancient magic at play as a hushed murmur filled the chamber.

“Your Pharaoh is safe… Return to your rest. The Duat awaits you.” She commanded in an obscure tongue; lowering her outstretched, glowing arm as the skeletal forms of the ancient guardians bowed to her before dissolving back into the shadows of the still, silent tomb.

With a soft gasp, her strength gave way, her legs buckling beneath her as she collapsed into the waiting arms of her husband.

Sebastian acted instinctively, catching her before she hit the ground and cradling her gently against his chest. His voice was a soothing balm amidst the chaos that had just torn through them.

"Stay with me, my love," he murmured, his tone laced with concern and reassurance as he pulled her into his arms. "You brilliant girl… You saved us all."

Her eyelids fluttered, the weight of her actions pressing down upon her with each laboured breath. She clung to consciousness, her fingers curling around Sebastian’s neck as the party navigated the labyrinthine passages of the tomb, retracing their steps back to the entrance.

As they emerged from the sealed doorway, the desert greeted them with the cool embrace of nightfall. The moon cast an ethereal glow over the sands, revealing the contours of the valley stretching into the distance.

The Curse Breakers looked at Sebastian, carrying his barely conscious wife in his arms, with a mix of confusion and concern.

"What happened in there?" Ravenscroft demanded; his voice tinged with urgency. “How did she… What did she say to them?”

Sebastian exchanged a glance with them, uncertainty clouding his features. "I'm not entirely sure," he admitted, his voice tinged with awe. "But... she did something incredible."

Ravenscroft's expression softened, understanding dawning in his eyes. He nodded solemnly, sensing the weight of the moment. "We'll discuss it later," he declared, his tone decisive. "For now, let's get you both out of here."

With the help of their colleagues, Sebastian supported her as they made their way back to the safety of Aswan, the mysteries of the tomb left behind in the shifting sands of the desert.

Chapter Text

Light had thronged the stained-glass windows of the Hospital Wing that Spring morning, illuminating speckles of dust as they danced through the piercing sunbeams.

As her eyes had flickered open, she had been greeted by a soft, familiar smile.

“Ominis,” she croaked, wincing as she sat up to greet the friend perched at the end of her bed.

“Oh, no, my dear,” Ominis soothed tenderly, stopping her in her tracks as he heard the rustling of bedsheets. “Please, don’t sit up... Rest.”

As Nurse Blainey fluffed up the down feathers in her pillow, she rested her heavy head back into its soft embrace.

“Thank you for coming to see me…” She murmured softly. “I know that things have been a little… Odd… Since…”

“Don’t be ridiculous.” He interrupted, placing his hand tenderly over hers. “You’re my friend. You also just saved the entire school and almost got yourself killed in the process. You gave Sebastian and I the fright of our lives, you know that?”

Ominis felt her wince at the mention of his name, and a hesitant sigh escaped his lips.

“He’s been here every day…” He continued, giving her hand a reassuring squeeze. “We even started talking again whilst we waited for you to come around,” he chuckled.

A weak smile flickered across her lips.

“He’d be lost without you, Omi.” She sighed.

“No, Spero…” Ominis smiled sympathetically, “he’s lost without you.”

She shook her head softly before another surge of pain shot through her with a stifled whimper.

“Merlin, Speranza, please rest…” Ominis pleaded, worry furrowing his brow.

“He still hasn’t forgiven me for my friendship with Lodgok,” she hissed, her breaths staggered as she tried to suppress her pain.

“He’s a little… Touchy… about Goblins,” He replied. “But that’s not an attempt to justify the way he’s been behaving, recently.”

“He thinks that I don’t care about Anne… That I don’t want to help her…” She whispered, “I do, Ominis. I want to help her so much.”

“I think you’ve done more than enough for right now,” He assured her, smoothing the crinkles in her soft bedsheets. “I know you care… We all care… Sebastian isn’t himself right now. He’s saying cruel things that he doesn’t mean.”

“He hates me, Ominis.” She wheezed between laboured breaths. “He’s barely spoken to me for weeks.”

“Darling, that’s not true…” Ominis rebutted lovingly. “Like I said, he’s been here every day.”

“Every… Day?” She repeated in hazed disbelief.

“Morning ‘til curfew,” he nodded. “He’d sit right here,” he tapped the spot on the opposite side of the bed, “refusing to leave your side until I forced him to go and eat something and promised that I’d keep watch over you myself,” he chuckled. “You missed him by a matter of minutes just now, but rest assured, he’ll be back shortly.”

Her chest tightened at the thought of having to face him… Seeing the pain and disappointment that lingered in his eyes as he refused to look at her properly for the last few weeks… She couldn’t handle that all over again. Not now.

Not ever.

“I… I don’t think I can see him, Ominis,” she uttered, pain lingering in her voice as he hummed understandingly.

“If you really don’t want to see him on account of what a total arse he’s been, I completely understand and will happily tell him to leave…” He began. “But, if you’re afraid to see him because you think he doesn’t care about you… I’d strongly advise you to reconsider.”

She sighed heavily, allowing her heart and her head to wrestle amongst themselves as her eyelids shut.

“Here,” Ominis whispered, leaning over her to pick up a cup that had been placed by her bedside. “Let me warm this tea up for you.”

A familiar blend of Earl Grey and lavender wafted over her senses as a soft, pleasant hum escaped her lips.

“How did you know that’s my favourite?” She smiled, leaning on the small table next to her bed to prop herself upright.

“I didn’t,” he retorted, a flick of his wand bringing the small brew to its intended temperature. “He brings it for you every day… Along with those.”

Following Ominis’ gesture, her eyes immediately caught sight of the tableau on the table; a carefully arranged bouquet of flowers. White lilies, with their elegant blossoms, stood tall and regal, emanating a sense of purity that pierced through the air. Beside them, clusters of pristine white roses adorned the ensemble, their petals unfolding like a heartfelt plea for renewal. Intricately woven between the lilies and roses, purple hyacinths added a layer of depth to the arrangement, their rich hue holding the heavy weight of unspoken apologies.

Yet, nestled within the sea of blooms, forget-me-nots whispered a poignant message of remembrance. Their tiny, azure blossoms hinting at a plea to be held in her memory despite the hurt that lingered.

Each bloom, carefully chosen and artfully arranged, formed an offering of beauty that also sought forgiveness, with the lingering scent of sincerity woven into every delicate petal.

“We can add Floriography to the list of languages he speaks, I take it?” Ominis smirked, acknowledging the shocked silence that had fallen over her. “They’re fresh every morning.”

“How… How long have I been out for?” She stuttered; her eyes transfixed on the bouquet.

“Six days,” Ominis shrugged, stirring her tea before placing the cup in her hands. “Given everything that you went through, I’m surprised it wasn’t longer… But Godric’s Heart, am I relieved that you’re alright.”

She stared into the swirling abyss of her teacup as her mind raced through the last of her memories.

The Keepers…

Rookwood…

The Repository…

Ranrok…

It was all real.

Including…

“Oh, Merlin…” She gasped, the teacup shattering on the ground as her head fell into her hands and she began to sob. “Professor Fig.”

A warmth enveloped her as she breathed in the scent of cedarwood in his cologne.

“I’m so sorry, darling,” Ominis whispered.

“It’s all my fault, Ominis.” She wept, clinging to his jumper as her weak body rattled with painful sobs.

“No, it’s not…” He soothed, “You’ve done an incredible thing, and he was so proud of you. You fought bravely, just like he did, and together, you vanquished a terrible evil from this world.”

Her bloodshot eyes stung as she choked back tears. "But he's gone, and I'm here… How do I live with that?"

Ominis took a deep breath, taking a moment to choose his words carefully. "Surviving doesn't diminish Fig’s sacrifice. It honours it. You're here to carry on his legacy… To remember the courage he showed. You can't change what happened, but you can make sure his sacrifice wasn't in vain."

The room seemed to still as his words lingered. She absorbed the comfort, and a fragile moment of understanding passed between them. Ominis reached out, placing a hand on her shoulder, offering silent solidarity in the face of overwhelming grief.

“You need to rest,” he soothed. “You’ve been through something incredibly traumatic, and your mind needs time to recover… Promise me that you’ll try and get some sleep?”

She nodded hazily as Ominis guided her softly back into her pillows.

“Thank you, Omi…” she mumbled, her eyelids heavy as she drifted rapidly back into a peaceful slumber.

Sebastian couldn’t remember the last time he’d slept.

For weeks, his mind had been clouded with thoughts of Anne’s declining health.

When he’d heard about Rookwood’s attack and the battle in the Repository, a black fog had descended over him; slowly suffocating him in the process.

Seeing her pale, unconscious figure lying in a hospital bed brought back too many memories for him to cope with.

Anger, guilt and fear consumed him with every pained breath.

“Please eat something,” Ominis urged, pushing a plate of food in front of him. “You’re beginning to resemble a Dementor.”

“How would you know?” He retorted flatly, pushing the food idly around the plate with his fork.

“I wouldn’t,” Ominis quipped, “it’s just what I hear in the Common Room.”

A stifled silence fell over the two as Sebastian continued to idly drag his fork against the ceramic.

“If you’re finished pretending to eat,” Ominis sighed, “then I think we ought to turn in for the night.”

“Fine,” Sebastian shrugged, allowing the cutlery to slip carelessly out of his fingers before the two departed for the Slytherin Common Room.

The pink and scarlet hues of the first light of morning stung his sleep-deprived eyes as he began the familiar trek to Hogsmeade the next morning. Muffled by the soft earth beneath him, his boots retraced their daily footsteps as the crisp morning air hit his face with the lingering scent of pine.

“Back so soon, Mister Sallow?” Teasdale called to the familiar figure as he sidled up the highland pathway. “The usual order, I take it?”

“If you please, Mr. Teasdale,” Sebastian nodded glumly, reaching into his pocket to fish out the necessary coins before the shopkeeper shook his head gently.

“Already taken care of, Mr. Sallow…” Teasdale assured him, handing him the bouquet of requested flowers. “Along with this,” he smiled, pressing a Shrivelfig Fruit into Sebastian’s palm as the young man’s brow furrowed in confusion.

“You can make it up to me by helping me to open up,” Sirona called from behind him, leaning against the low stone wall as Sebastian turned to look at her. “Come on!” She grinned, heading back towards the Square with the confused teenager in tow.

“I have a couple of errands to run, so if you wouldn’t mind keeping an eye on things for me for an hour…” Sirona grinned, pressing an aged, bronze key into Sebastian’s palm. “Don’t worry, you’ve only got one customer to look after whilst I’m gone,” she winked, before pushing the door to The Three Broomsticks ajar for him.

As he walked through the timber archway, his entire body froze as his eyes locked on hers.

There she stood; radiant, glowing and very much awake.

She hesitated anxiously; searching for the words to say to him.

“I didn’t want us to have to talk in the Hospital Wing,” she sighed. “I thought it might… Remind you of…”

All he could muster was a blink in response, to which her resolve seemed to wither.

“I… I’m sorry, Sebastian. Perhaps I’ve gone about this all wrong…” She murmured timidly, a blush that almost matched her scarlet hair creeping over her features.

His lips parted softly as his mind frantically scrambled for the words to say to break the agonising silence.

“Those are beautiful flowers…” She smiled softly, her head tilting toward the bouquet in his hand. “They’re eerily similar to the ones that I found by my bed this morning, but of course I know better than to even consider the possibility of Sebastian Sallow leaving flowers for me…” She chuckled nervously. “They’re far too beautiful for the likes of m-”

She was cut off by a pair of arms enveloping her.

He pressed his lips and nose to the top of her head, breathing in the lavender scent of her hair as his hands came to rest on the arch of her back and the nape of her neck, his fingers weaving into her soft curls. As the initial shock of his sudden actions wore off, she slowly melted into his embrace; allowing her arms to rest around his neck as they clung to each other in an aching, bittersweet silence. Every breath seemed to echo against the walls. Then, like a fragile thread unravelling, the silence was broken by the sound of a soft, barely perceptible sniffle.

At first, it was almost imperceptible; a gentle shudder passing through him. The sound was barely audible, a quiet exhale of sorrow escaping lips tightly pressed together. Yet, in its subtlety, it carried a weight that reverberated through the stillness, a testament to the depth of the pain that lay hidden beneath the surface.

As the tears began to flow, they fell silently. Each tear was a silent lament, a wordless expression of grief that spoke volumes. The air seemed to thicken as his quiet sobbing continued, each breath hitched and trembling. And yet, in the midst of it, there was a strange kind of solace; a cathartic release that whispered of healing in the silent spaces between sobs.

“I thought I’d lost you...” He whispered tearfully into her hair; his voice a fragile murmur as his body trembled, still clinging to her.

“I thought I’d lost you.” She replied, tears beginning to spill from her own eyes as she held him even closer. “I thought you’d never speak to me again,” she whimpered, her voice thick with grief as she began to sob loudly against his shoulder, breaking his heart in the process.

He shook his head, remorse overwhelming him.

“I could never hate you. Ever.” He sighed as he ran his fingers through her hair, stroking her scalp in a way he knew she found to be deeply comforting.

“I was so scared…” He admitted in a vulnerable murmur. “Scared of letting you get too close to me. Everyone I’ve ever lo…”

His tongue caught in his throat.

“Cared for… Has been taken away from me. First, my parents… Now, Anne… It was easier for me to try and push you away than allow myself to risk losing you, too…”

Her eyes softened with understanding, the pieces of the puzzle falling into place. She turned her face to finally meet his bloodshot cognac eyes; her gaze unwavering as she smiled softly. “I’m not going anywhere, Seb,” she soothed, her thumb brushing away the tears that still fell from his eyes.

“Turns out the only thing more frightening than the thought of losing you is the actual reality of it staring me in the face,” He admitted. “And it made me realize how much you mean to me… How cruel I’ve been… How I was a fool to think I could face everything alone... How wrong it was for me to leave you to have to do exactly that."

Fresh, stinging tears welled in her eyes, a mixture of relief and the residual pain of their recent estrangement.

“All I could think about was hunting Rookwood down and coming to rescue you… It killed me to know that he had you out there… Somewhere I couldn’t find you… And that I was utterly helpless to do anything to help you… And then the Goblin attack…”

"It’s alright, Sebastian," she whispered. "I’m alright. It’s all over now.”

He nodded, a mixture of gratitude and regret in his gaze.

"I'm sorry," he whispered, his voice thick with emotion. "I'm so sorry for treating you so coldly. I should’ve been there, fighting by your side… I should’ve helped you. I should’ve protected you."

She shook her head, a small smile playing on her lips through the tears. "It's alright. You’re here now.”

In that moment, their hands intertwined in a silent promise of forgiveness and redemption.

“Promise me that, no matter how frightening things become, you won’t push me away anymore?” She urged softly, squeezing his hand.

“I promise,” he nodded, pressing his forehead tenderly to hers.

The Inn seemed to hold its breath as they broke away from the embrace, their eyes locked in a moment of silent reconciliation; a bridge built over the chasm of their past misunderstandings.

A soft gasp hitched in Sebastian’s chest and a sheepish smile played on his lips as he suddenly realised that, in his haste, he had dropped the bouquet of flowers. Retrieving them from the floor, he presented them to her with a nervous grin.

"I, uh, got these for you... Well, I mean, I intended to give them to you," he admitted, a faint blush tinting his cheeks. “I’m… Sorry they’re a little…”

Her eyes sparkled with a mixture of amusement and tenderness as she accepted the gift with a soft, affectionate chuckle. As her fingers brushed against the blooms, an enchanting transformation unfolded. Petal by petal, the roses shifted from pristine white to a vibrant yellow as delicate lilacs began to bloom amongst the buds, intertwining gracefully and adding a touch of unexpected beauty to the bouquet.

“Yellow roses…” She gasped.

“Your favourite,” he smiled.

She looked up at Sebastian, her heart fluttering with a surge of emotions at the message conveyed. Sebastian met her gaze with a shy smile, his own heart racing with the realization that his true feelings had been laid bare in the blossoms. In a mutual, silent understanding, they chose to acknowledge the message; allowing the language of the arrangement to speak for them in a way that words couldn’t yet.

"Let's take a stroll towards Aranshire, shall we? It’s only a short walk away," she suggested, breaking the silence and reaching for his hand as she turned towards the doors.

“I can think of nothing else I’d rather do,” he smiled at her, accepting her hand as they strolled out into the fresh morning air.

-

She awoke to the sounds of the Nile lapping against the banks of the shore and her husband’s soft humming.

As her eyelids flickered open, a smile danced at the corners of her mouth as she admired him; sat in the open arch of the French doors that led from their bedroom onto a small terrace that overlooked the river. The tide was in, and soft waves lapped against the stone foundations of the house as a gentle breeze brushed through the reeds and tousled his hair.

It wasn’t hard for her to deduce from the ink stains on his hands that he’d been pouring over the journals in her father’s study and taking further notes.

Her heart melted as she watched over him working; seeing him in his true element, humming away to himself as his brilliant, curious mind was satiated by the contents of those pages.

“Ye’ll take the high road and I’ll take the low, an’ I’ll be in Scotland afore ye…” his warm, smooth voice rippled under his breath as he traced another set of hieroglyphics into his notebook. “For me and my true love will never meet again…”

“On the bonnie, bonnie banks of Loch Lomond.” She sang softly, greeting him with a warm smile as he turned to see her wide awake. Rising from his makeshift seat, he strode over to the bed to be at her side.

“Good morning, darling,” he whispered softly, pressing a slow, doting kiss to her forehead before presenting her with a warm cup of tea. “Earl Grey with lavender, just what the Healer ordered,” he winked.

“You’re a gentleman and a scholar,” she sighed with delight, lifting the cup to her lips.

They sat in silence as she sipped her tea, his eyes cherishing the vision of her sun-kissed skin and the subtle blush returning to her cheeks as she finished the final dregs in her cup.

“Please tell me you haven’t been up all night researching,” she urged, nodding to the small mountain of books in the doorway.

“Not exactly,” he shrugged honestly. “I’ve been trying to learn more about Akhenaten’s connection to Ancient Magic… Figure out what happened back there. I woke up at sunrise and couldn’t get back to sleep, so figured I’d put the time to good use.”

“Well, you certainly have,” she chuckled, gazing lovingly at him. “But what do you mean, what happened?”

His eyebrows shot up in surprise at her visible confusion.

“Darling, I’ve seen you do some incredible things with your magic… But nothing quite like that,” he smiled.

Her brows furrowed as she tried to recall the events of the previous day.

“I remember… The tomb, Akhenaten… The voices…”

“V-voices?” Sebastian repeated, alarm flashing across his face. “Sweet heart, what voices?”

“Whispers…” She mumbled, her head massaging her temple as her eyes squeezed shut. “They wanted to hurt you... I had to stop them…”

“Those things?” Sebastian pressed, concerned. “They communicated with you?”

“His Medjay… They were angry,” she clarified. “We were disturbing their Pharaoh. I told them not to touch you and that we were trying to help them.”

“Is that what you said to them? They bowed to you!” Sebastian exclaimed.

“They understood that we were trying to protect him, too...” She shrugged. “With the bandits gone, there was no further threat, and they could return to the Duat. Surely you heard me say that?”

“I heard you speaking in something I can’t even begin to describe...” He replied, struggling to conceal his amazement as his mind began to whir in a way she found to be utterly irresistible. “Was it Egyptian? Coptic? It sounded like it incorporated the phonetics of Middle Egyptian and Late Egyptian, which I suppose could be plausible... I've made some notes, would you mind if we-”

His train of thought was interrupted by her lips pressing against his, capturing them mid-sentence. He slowly wrapped his arms around her, deepening the kiss as his fingers traced the delicate lace of her nightgown and up her bare back.

“Your linguistic skills drive me wild,” she purred seductively against his lips.

A sly smirk flickered at his lips as he caressed her soft cheeks, pushing her back onto the bed as he lay on top of her.

"I don't suppose you'd ever consider making love to me in a different language, would you?" She whispered in his ear.

“I can think of a far more exciting use for my tongue right now, darling…” He growled softly, crashing his lips hungrily against hers as she began pulling at the buttons of his shirt.

Chapter Text

“It’s a pretty song,” she smiled as they strolled down the stone pathway that led towards Aranshire. “Thank you for sharing it with me.”

“It’s hard not to find yourself humming some kind of local tune whilst strolling through The Highlands,” he grinned, enjoying the fresh gust of wind that whipped past his ears and tousled his hair.

“What’s it about?” She asked, her eyes gazing over the Black Lake as he strolled beside her.

“Muggles know it as a song about two Scottish soldiers who were imprisoned in England, one of whom was set free and the other was sentenced to death, but it’s famous in these parts because of Mirabella,” he explained.

“Mirabella?” She repeated, confusion furrowing her brow.

“Mirabella Plunkett!” He replied, the surprise evident on his face. “You must’ve heard of Mirabella Plunkett?!”

“The witch who fell in love with a merman?” She questioned with a gasp, “I thought that was a fable!”

“It’s no fable,” he chortled. “It happened! She transformed into a fish, disappeared into Loch Lomond to find her love and was never seen again.”

“Merlin… I hope they wound up together,” she sighed wistfully. “I’ve never heard of any human-mermaid relationships.”

“They’re very rare,” Sebastian shrugged. “Seldom documented, especially since the Ministry re-classified merfolk. I don’t even know how they would work… But they’re not non-existent.”

A soft smile spread across Sebastian’s lips as the rays of the morning sun graced the shimmering waters of the lake.

“Apparently, she used to sit on the banks of the loch and sing it as she pined for him, hence why it spread through The Highlands... Folk songs are made to be shared, after all.”

“I didn’t have you down as such an avid musician,” she smirked, admiring the glow that was gradually returning to his eyes.

“Oh, I’m not at all!” He chuckled, his heart fluttering at the grin that stretched over her lips in return. “I can carry a tune, but so can most Celts. I think I’m better applied to the pursuit of knowledge.”

“Or Duelling… Or Quidditch… Or Linguistics…” She winked, “You’re a myriad of talents, Sallow.”

“I’ll hold you to that…” He grinned. “High praise indeed coming from the Heroine of Hogwarts and resident Troll-Slayer of Hogsmeade herself.”

“Ah yes, senseless destruction, my one true calling…” She shrugged with a reluctant laugh, her eyeline falling back to the ground ahead of her feet as she continued down the path.

She heard Sebastian halt in his tracks before his hand reached for her shoulder.

“Hey,” he replied softly, “we both know that’s not true.”

A reluctant smile flickered over her lips as her eyes stayed locked on the ground. She heard the familiar crunch of dried earth underneath his boots as his emerald green robes flashed into her peripheral vision.

“Look at me,” he whispered, tilting her chin up. When her eyes locked onto his, he saw unfamiliar flickers of insecurity in her eyes.

“You’re the most intelligent, accomplished and skilled witch I’ve ever met, you know that?” He soothed. “Even now, I know that you’ve still got some secret talents up your sleeve that you’re not telling me about.”

A soft blush crept over her cheeks.

“I assure you; you know me better than I know myself, Seb.” She replied.

“Which is all the more reason why you need to believe me when I say that you’re the most talented witch of our generation,” he smiled. “Be sure to think of me when you’re posing for your chocolate frog card, now, won't you?”

A sudden, sincere laugh burst out of her.

“Merlin, Sebastian, you don’t seriously think that’s the highlight of my future?!” She cackled as he beamed at her in return.

“No, I just wanted to make you laugh...” He chuckled. “The chocolate frog card is just the beginning for you… You’re going to do incredible things, I can tell.”

With a smile and a nod, they resumed their journey down the winding path overlooking the Black Lake.

“And what will you do whilst I’m off on all these apparent adventures?” She queried, a playful grin dancing over her lips as she broke the comfortable silence that had fallen over them. He simply shrugged in response.

“I genuinely haven’t thought about it…” He replied. “I tend not to think too far into the future. I like to live in the here and now. You never know how much…”

His sentence trailed off as he ground to a slow halt as they reached a fork in their pathway, a familiar pang of heartache flushing through him.

“Time… You’re going to get.” He sighed; his eyes locked on the winding path leading towards the cliff face.

“Seb?” She whispered softly, concern flooding her features as the wind whipped through their billowing robes.

They paused as his dark eyes flickered between the two pathways. He’d fallen uncharacteristically quiet.

“This is the road to Aranshire,” he murmured, nodding hesitantly to the gravelled path curving softly back on themselves and up into the mountains.

“And where does that path lead?” She queried, a knowing look in her eye as she gestured to the other.

He remained silent and stone-faced; his eyes unfaltering from the ground-trodden track.

“I remember you telling me you grew up around here…” She uttered, her skin prickling with the realisation as she turned to look up the pathway behind her, then back to him. “But... You grew up in Aranshire, didn’t you, Sebastian?”

His eyes locked with hers, his gaze affirming her suspicions.

“That’s where your parents…”

He nodded solemnly, a soft sigh escaping his lips.

“Oh Merlin, I’m a moron…” She stated, panic coursing through her as he gazed softly at her. “And I suggested we… Oh, Gods…  Seb, I’m so-”

Her whole body jolted as his hand delicately graced hers, instantly bringing her back from the brink of her internal spiral.

“It’s alright,” he whispered, a tender smile flickering at his lips. “I wanted to walk with you.”

They both turned to stare in the direction of the small Hamlet, him counting the stones that lined the pathway as she focused on the fresh crocus buds piercing through the ground.

“I figured that if I was ever going to be ready to go back, it would be with you…” He sighed, as she squeezed his hand comfortingly. “But… I’m not. Not yet.”

She nodded in understanding.

“I hear it’s overrun with spiders,” she mused, breaking the tender silence that had fallen between them as a short, sharp laugh burst from his chest in confusion.

“What a surreal remark,” he tittered. “Did you think that might entice me to return?”

“No, I just wanted to make you laugh,” she shrugged. “However, we do make an excellent spider-killing team.”

“That’s because you put in most of the leg work,” he retorted, earning an exasperated groan from her as he cackled with pride at his own joke.

“Come on,” she tutted, patting him reassuringly on the shoulder as she began to retrace their footsteps on the trek back to Hogsmeade, “we’ll buy eachother a coffee at Steepley and Sons on the way back to the Castle.”

-

“These are delightful,” he sighed, cherishing another bite of the soft, savoury delicacy. “What did you say they were called again?”

“Falafel,” she smiled, admiring the way the flickering lanterns on the terrace illuminated his handsome features. “Al-Jadawi sent them as part of the little gift package he put together.”

Fortune had decided to favour them that afternoon, with a knock on their door just as she had smoothed the final strands of her wayward hair and Sebastian had adjusted the final button on his shirt.

Not a single soul would’ve been able to tell that they’d spent the majority of their morning in the throes of intense lovemaking, least of all the courier on their doorstep; laden with a woven hamper, teeming with enticing culinary delicacies, courtesy of the Grand Council.

They’d decided to enjoy their spoils with a moonlight picnic; sat out under the open sky, gazing up at the stars as they dined.

She sighed in contentment, allowing the breeze to tousle her hair as she watched the reflections of the full moon ripple in the soft currents of the Nile.

“This is perfect,” she smiled, taking another bite of a soft, warm falafel as he gazed lovingly at her.

“You’re perfect,” he whispered, entranced by the mixture of the cool moonlight and warm, flickering flames illuminating her. As he leaned in to kiss her, a soft gust of wind brought the whispers of ethereal melodies to her ear. She gasped as his lips tenderly captured hers.

“Do you hear that, darling?” She whispered between kisses.

“The call of that bottle of pomegranate wine from the kitchen?” He purred with a soft chuckle. “Yes, darling, I do. Hand me your glass.”

He rose to his feet, collecting their empty glasses in one hand and looking back at her lovingly.

“Simply perfect,” he sighed, before disappearing back into the house through the open french doors.

As the moon rose in the reflection on the waters, they began to shimmer and glow with the same mystical hues, sending ripples of silver to lap enticingly below her bare feet as familiar, otherworldly voices began to entwine their intoxicating melodies into her mind; weaving a spell that beckoned her towards the shimmering waters.

As she rose to her feet, the moonlight painted her surroundings in shades of silver and blue. A delicate trance enveloped her; a dance between reality and enchantment. Her eyes glazed over, reflecting the silvery hues of the magic that bound her senses. The songs echoed in her soul, compelling her to take a step closer to the edge.

The stream pool beneath her glowed with an otherworldly radiance, its waters transformed into liquid moonlight. The voices tugged at her very being, their call becoming impossible to resist. With each step towards the bank, the connection between the terrestrial world and the mystical realm deepened.

Compelled by the haunting melodies, she found herself at the water's edge. The river sparkled and glowed in response to the moon's tender touch. She hesitated momentarily, the gentle waves lapping at her bare feet, before the decision to surrender to the mysterious allure became inevitable.

In the throes of the enchantment, she shed her earthly trappings. Her dress slipped off her shoulders, cascading like a waterfall of silk around her feet. Clad only in the silken embrace of moonlight, she waded into the stream pool, the waters embracing her like a long-lost lover. The moonlight bathed her in its silvery embrace, accentuating the shimmering, pearlescent hues that began to adorn her bare body.

As she immersed herself in the moonlit waters, her movements became a graceful dance, synchronized with the mystical cadence of the songs. Her voice, once a mere observer of the haunting melodies, now joined the ethereal chorus.

As Sebastian reappeared through the doorway, wine glasses in hand, the sight that greeted him froze him in his tracks. His beloved wife stood waist-deep in the sparkling stream pool; her silhouette bathed in the silvery glow of the moon. The air itself seemed to shimmer, and he couldn't help but feel a sense of both awe and trepidation.

"My love?" he called out, his voice carrying a mixture of confusion and worry.

She turned slowly, her eyes now transformed from their usual warm copper sparkles into the mesmerizing, pearlescent hues of the moon. Her gaze locked onto Sebastian, who took a step back, captivated by the otherworldly beauty that now radiated from her.

The enchantment held her firmly in its grip, and she began to vocalize the haunting melodies that had bewitched her. The celestial tones emanating from her lips wrapped around him, weaving an enchanting spell over him that tugged at the very core of his being.

Compelled by an irresistible force, Sebastian tugged at his shirt and waded into the water, his steps guided by her unrecognisable voice. As he reached her, he took her in his arms, the water reflecting the silvery glow that enveloped them both. Their eyes locked in a shared trance, and the world around them faded into nothingness.

Intoxicated by the entrancing melody that poured from her, he sought her lips with an urgent force far greater than himself. Their lips met in a union that transcended the physical; igniting a deep, powerful magic between them, amplifying the enchantment that enveloped them. The water surrounding them began to shimmer and glow with a radiant luminescence. A soft, ethereal light emanated from their entwined bodies, igniting a surge of magic within the waters of the Nile. The river responded to their union; its currents pulsating with an otherworldly energy that mirrored the intensity of their embrace.

Amidst the radiant glow, the whispers of distant voices echoed in Sebastian's mind, their haunting melodies intertwining with her voice, still possessing his mind. The enchanting melody wrapped around him like a gentle embrace, the celestial harmony guiding him deeper into the depths of the trance that had ensnared him.

A voice, distinct from the melodic chorus that swam around his brain, resonated from the depths of the water. It spoke with a tone that held both power and benevolence.

“Your heart has proven itself as true, mortal,” it echoed to him. “You have ventured where few dare to tread.”

Battling for control of himself, his mind wrestled with the enchantment whilst heeding the words from the voice below the waters.

His body, however, betrayed his efforts; surrendering effortlessly to the heated, passionate crashing of their lips together whilst their hands began to caress every inch of their naked bodies.

“You have bound yourself to a union of land and sea,” the voice whispered to him. “She is our lineage… Our future.”

Bathed in the light of the moon, their intertwined bodies tumbled onto the bank of the Nile, the glowing waves washing over them as he thrust animalistically into her over and over again with reckless grunts.

“Your soul has been laid bare to me, mortal…” it called, “I have seen the deepest desire of your heart, and I am willing to grant it...”

He whimpered and moaned without restraint, clutching at her desperately as she ground herself into him.

“All you need do… Is ask me for it.”

Overcome with the potent enchantment and the intensity from the passionate movements of their interlocked bodies, with gasped breaths, the pleading words poured from his lips:

“A child,” he begged, his voice thick with unrecognisable desperation, “I want a child with her… I need a life with her… I need… Her…”

His heartfelt plea echoed through the night. The river resonated with understanding; responding with a surge of energy that enveloped them both. The glow of the water brightened, casting a celestial radiance over the lovers as their raw, passionate union came to a crashing, screaming climax.

In that sacred moment beneath the moonlit sky, their entranced minds surrendered to the timeless currents of both love and magic that flowed through their souls, their physical union blessed by the celestial melodies and the radiant light of the moon, bathing them in its soft beams as they fell unconscious in eachother’s arms amongst the reeds.

-

“You know, I’ve been thinking about your future, even if you haven’t,” she hummed, stirring in the powdered cinnamon that danced on top of her coffee as the morning sun stretched over the cobbled stones of Hogsmeade’s main square.

“That’s tea leaves, darling,” he smirked, taking a contented sip from his own cup. “You’re drinking coffee.”

“How observant of you,” she retorted flatly, her voice drenched with sarcasm as he winked at her playfully.

“Go ahead,” he grinned, “tell me my future, coffee reader.”

“Well,” she began, resting her cup back down on the ornate table. “It occurs to me that I might need some company whilst I’m off doing all those brilliant things I’m apparently fated for.”

“So, what you’re saying is that you can’t bear the thought of being apart from me and are asking me to be your dashing partner in crime?” He crooned flirtatiously, cocking an eyebrow.

“More of a sidekick, really…” She retorted, catching him off guard as he almost choked on his coffee.

“We both know I am no sidekick,” he wheezed, clearing his throat and regaining his composure as she struggled to stifle her laughter. “I’ll settle for companion and no lower.”

“Fine, companion it is,” she giggled, raising her cup in a toast. “Through thick and thin, everything we face, we face together.”

“I’ll drink to that,” he smiled, raising his cup to clink against hers in a mutual agreement. “You’re stuck with me now, Miss Roehan.”

“I suppose I am, Mister Sallow.”

Chapter Text

He remembered the sweet tang of pomegranate wine.

He remembered the glow of the moon.

He remembered the soft, haunting lilt of her voice.

He remembered the faint whispers of voices on the gentle waves.

Then, there was darkness.

Reality cocooned him in the soft cotton of their bedsheets as the familiar curves of her figure pressed against him.

He breathed in her delicate scent, the expected hints of lavender and geranium accompanied by wafts of fresh, hot coffee interwoven with the tang of the wine on her breath; enveloping her in his arms as a pleased hum escaped his lips.

“Good morning, darling,” he whispered into her hair.

“Good morning, my love,” she sighed against his chest. “How’s your head?”

“Sore,” he whined softly as a soft laugh tumbled from his chest, “yours?”

“Also very sore,” she chuckled. “That pomegranate wine must’ve been lethal… We were asleep by the river this morning.”

Confusion furrowed his brow, his eyes still squeezed shut.

“The river?” He repeated, his fingers combing through her hair as she nuzzled affectionately into him. “How in Merlin’s name did we get out there?” He queried, pressing his lips to the top of her head.

“I have no idea,” she laughed softly, nuzzling into him affirmingly, “but we clearly had a very good night… I had to apparate us back into bed before anyone saw us.”

“Quick thinking, my brilliant girl…” He grinned, placing a soft kiss on her temple. “Merlin forbid two intoxicated Britons lying naked on the banks of the Nile should ruin our freshly repaired relations with Egypt…”

“Indeed,” she hummed. “Well, drink your coffee, diplomat…” She smirked, turning to rise out of bed and throw off the covers. “We can shake off the hangover and try to piece together our night whilst we enjoy the sun out on the terrace.”

She was interrupted by the familiar sensation of his strong arms coiling around her waist as a faint pine passed between his lips as they graced her soft skin.

“Stay,” he murmured sleepily, pressing delicate, longing kisses against her bare back. “Lie here with me a while…”

She found him hard to resist at the best of times; be he stern-faced with his head in a book, utterly and endearingly oblivious to the world around him, or his usual extroverted, charming self, lavishing lightheartedly in some minor triumph…

But in his softer, quiet moments, the human moments, the moments of tenderness and vulnerability, the moments that she knew were for her and her alone, it became entirely impossible to refuse him anything.

She sunk blissfully back into the welcoming embrace of her husband, who smiled contentedly as she slotted back into her typical space; her head resting softly under his chin.

“There,” he sighed elatedly, his arms wrapping around her, “I am whole again.”

There had never been a time in his life when he hadn’t felt pulled towards her; he’d grown accustomed to the overwhelming desire to never be too far from her by the age of sixteen. As they had grown together and begun to court, falling deeper and deeper in love, it began to feel more like an instinct; his duty, as her partner, to always be by her side. As they’d begun their latest chapter, as husband and wife, the innate understanding of knowing that she would always be beside him had settled into a comfortable sense of gratitude that never failed to warm his heart.

And yet, as of that morning, it was different somehow.

His eyes flickered softly open and his gaze fell on her dozing frame; the gentle smears of last night’s makeup still gracing her face and her hair still damp from the Nile’s waters.

She had always been a vision of radiance. She was held in the highest of regards everywhere she went. Blessed with both elegance and eloquence, he had always acknowledged that she lit up every room she graced. Watching her accomplish the most challenging of tasks with the most effortless grace left him, along with the rest of the Wizarding World, dazzled by the brilliance that shone blindingly out of her.

But in that moment, she was glowing in an entirely new way…

A softer, more intimate way.

It was a gentle, constant glow that hung tenderly around her; unimposing, unassuming and utterly natural.

A marital glow, he smiled to himself, brushing a stray strand of hair away from her face.

-

“Are you sure about this?” She’d asked him hesitantly.

“Certain,” the seventeen-year-old Sebastian Sallow had nodded, ambling confidently down the well-trodden path through the Highlands, redheaded witch in tow.

They walked in respective silences; his calm and comfortable, hers confused and anxious.

As they reached the fork in the path, her hand reached for his shoulder.

“Seb, please,” she whispered, “talk to me… I have no idea what’s happening right now, and I don’t like it.”

He paused, his eyes once again darting between the two familiar pathways in front of him before turning to face her.

“Is this too uncomfortable for you?” He queried. “Please don’t feel like you have to do this with me…”

“For me?!” She retorted in a mixture of shock and amusement. “Not at all! It’s you I’m worried about!”

“Good,” he replied with a flash of his usual mischievous grin, “because we’re not going to Aranshire.”

“We’re… Not?” She hesitated, confusion flooding her features as he took her hand and they began their journey into the mountains.

What was likely a twenty-minute walk felt like an eternity as uncertainty shrouded her every step of the way. Sebastian led them forward in a silent, fragile assurance that threatened to shatter at any moment. Rounding the final corner, his jaw tensed as a memorable flight of steps carved out into the rock appeared before them.

“I thought your days of plundering Catacombs were over?” She laughed nervously, igniting the extinguished beacon to the left of the entrance as he saw to the lock on the wrought iron gate with a flash of his wand.

“I like how you imply that yours aren’t,” he retorted somewhat flatly, attempting to muster a smile as he held the gate open for her. “Ladies first.”

As the iron gate swung shut behind them with a chilling clang that rippled through the cavern, his face began to pale as they began their descent into the scarcely candlelit darkness. His gaze distant yet focused, he forged ahead with a sense of purpose that left her trailing in his wake. With each step, the weight of their surroundings pressed down upon them. She lingered behind him, her eyes scanning the engravings of long-forgotten names, drawn to the stories etched into the weathered stone.

Sensing she was no longer right next to him, he paused; glancing back to see her gaze fixed upon the worn tombstones.

“Are you…?”

His words trailed off as he watched her, her form illuminated by the flickering torchlight, her fingers trailing reverently over the weathered inscriptions of forgotten names.

She looked up, her eyes meeting his with a quiet intensity that caught him off guard.

“S-sorry, I…” She hesitated, “I just… I couldn’t help but…”

“It’s alright,” he soothed, attempting to offer her a reassuring smile, “take your time.”

Sebastian watched her with a mixture of admiration and curiosity, his heart swelling with an unexpected warmth at the sight of her reverence for the neglected souls that lay before them.

“I can’t help but wonder about their stories,” she stated, hesitant to break the aching silence that shrouded the catacombs.

"Their stories?" He repeated, locking eyes with her.

She nodded, her gaze drifting back to the silent memorials.

"Each one of them... they lived, they loved, they had dreams and fears, just like us.”

He nodded silently, glancing at the tombstones around them, their names and dates obscured by the passage of time.

“And now... they're forgotten." He sighed heavily, turning reluctantly to push forward.

Her brow furrowed in response.

“No, they’re not,” she replied firmly, stopping him in his tracks.

“Oh?”

"Their stories may be forgotten by the rest of the world, but they mattered to someone once. And in this moment, they matter to me… And as long as they matter to one person, they’ll never be truly forgotten."

Sebastian fell silent, struck by the simple yet profound truth of her words. A spark of warmth began to crackle in his aching chest; admiration stirring within him for the depth of her compassion.

“You really care about them, don’t you?” He asked, the traces of a smile flickering at the corners of his mouth. “Even though they're strangers to you.”

“We were strangers once,” a soft smirk played at her lips. “Never stopped me from caring about you.”

Sebastian blinked, his lips curling into a faint smile as he absorbed her words with an almost chuckle.

“I’ve no doubt they’re as grateful for your company as I am.”

Sebastian's words hung in the air, a gentle warmth enveloping them as he ventured deeper into the heart of the catacomb without her. She couldn’t help but smile as she conjured a small bouquet of irises, working silently as she set a flower at each tombstone she could uncover.

Rounding a corner with the last iris twirling between her fingers, the flickering torchlight revealed a scene that stopped her in her tracks.

Sebastian stood solemnly at the foot of two graves, his shoulders squared with a quiet determination… Tall, yet fragile. She approached quietly, placing a gentle hand on his shoulder, a silent gesture of solidarity and support. Squinting in the dim flickers of light to read the names etched into the stones, her breath caught in her throat and her heart dropped into her stomach as she identified the surnames.

“Sallow…” She whispered.

He nodded solemnly; his gaze fixed on the ornate gravestones before them. He didn't need to respond; the weight of his silent acknowledgement spoke volumes.

Her eyes widened with understanding, a bittersweet ache settling in her chest. She glanced at Sebastian, his profile illuminated by the soft glow of the torch, and her heart simultaneously swelled and broke into a thousand pieces for him.

Her voice was barely more than a whisper as she turned to him, her eyes brimming with unspoken emotions.

"It's today, isn't it?" she murmured softly.

Sebastian met her gaze, his deep eyes reflecting the flickering torchlight with a mixture of sadness and gratitude.

“Yes.” He replied, his voice barely audible.

She squeezed his hand gently, offering what little comfort she could in the face of his pain.

“Tell me about them, Seb.”

He took a deep breath, his gaze drifting back to the gravestones before him. Memories of his parents flooded his mind, a tapestry of moments woven together with threads of love and loss.

"Mama was so kind-hearted," he began, a faint smile tugging at the corners of his lips. "She had a way of making everyone feel welcome… Like they belonged. And Father... He was strong, both in body and spirit. He taught me the value of perseverance, of never giving up, even when the world seemed darkest."

She listened intently, her heart aching with empathy.

"As you know, they were professors," he continued, his tone tinged with both pride and sadness. "They taught at Hogwarts, shaping the minds of countless young witches and wizards with their wisdom and compassion."

He paused for a moment.

"I always felt like going there would bring me closer to them again," he admitted softly, his voice barely more than a whisper. "Walking those halls, sitting in their classrooms... Like I could still feel their presence, guiding me every step of the way... Like they were right next to me."

"They are, Seb," she replied softly, her voice filled with understanding. "They’d be so proud of you.”

"They would have adored you," he smiled bittersweetly, his voice tinged with longing. "They were such kind souls, always ready to welcome others with open arms."

"Well, I'm here now," she said softly, giving his hand a reassuring squeeze.

“That you are,” he whispered, his heart swelling with a newfound sense of comfort as he squeezed her hand in return.

He took a half step back, nudging her forward as he did so.

“Mama,” he announced tenderly, “Father… This is Speranza.”

She stood by his side, her heart swelling with a mixture of humility and reverence as she listened to Sebastian's heartfelt introduction.

She turned to face the gravestones before addressing them timidly.

"It's a pleasure to meet you both," she smiled, her tone filled with respect and warmth, "although I'm sorry it's under... These... Circumstances."

Her voice faltered slightly as she struggled to find the right words, the weight of the moment pressing down upon her like a heavy shroud. She glanced nervously to Sebastian, finding solace in the quiet strength reflected in his eyes as he nodded encouragingly.

She took a deep breath.

"Mr. and Mrs. Sallow… I wish you could see who he's becoming," she murmured softly, her heart heavy with a sense of longing and regret. "He carries your kindness and strength with him every day. He reads every book he finds, just like you told him to… I’ve never met anyone more quick-witted, resourceful, charming and intelligent. He truly is remarkable."

Beside her, Sebastian's eyes glistened with unshed tears, his own heart echoing her sentiments with a profound ache.

"Although I never had the pleasure of meeting you whilst you were here… I know that he carries the best of both of you," she continued, her gaze warm as she looked at him. "Your devotion, your optimism, your curiosity, your love… They live on in him, shaping the person he’s become… And I’m honoured to be by his side as he develops into the man your love shaped him to be."

His eyes shimmered with gratitude, his heart swelling with a bittersweet mixture of pride and longing.

“Didn’t I tell you she was brilliant?” He smiled to the tombstones.

A soft, breathy chuckle tumbled from her lips as she gazed at him fondly. She twirled the remaining iris flower between her fingers once more, its delicate petals dancing in the dim light of the catacomb; a solitary beacon of beauty amidst the shadows. With gentle reverence, she set the flower in between the gravestones, a silent offering of remembrance and respect.

Sebastian watched with a mixture of awe and gratitude, his heart aching.

As she raised her hand in a simple gesture, a soft glow emanated from the bud, casting a warm, golden light upon the ancient stone surrounding the graves. Sebastian's eyes widened in wonder as he watched the flower begin to transform before his very eyes.

The iris seemed to come alive, its petals unfurling and twisting in a graceful dance. With each twist and turn, it wove itself into the very fabric of the catacomb, forming a beautiful canopy of irises that entwined around the ancient columns, the vibrant hues of the buds casting a kaleidoscope of colours against the dim candlelight.

As the last of the blooms settled into place, casting a soft, ethereal glow upon the graves of his parents, Sebastian turned to her with tears shimmering in his eyes.

"Thank you," he whispered, his voice choked with emotion.

"I meant what I said earlier...” She replied, her voice assured and comforting. “About people never truly being forgotten."

"I know," he replied, nodding softly, his voice tinged with a quiet reverence.

“They’re not gone, Seb… Not really.”

“I know.”

“We’re going to find a way to help Anne.”

“I know.”

Their fingers softly intertwined as they stood together in the dim flickers of the torchlight.

“I’m still here… Right next to you. All the way.”

“… I know.”

-

He was pulled from his thoughts by the brush of her hand across his bare chest.

“Today always rolls around so quickly, doesn’t it?” she sighed.

He nodded softly in agreement, squeezing her closer.

“Hey…” She soothed, squeezing him back, “I’m not going anywhere. I’m still here.”

“I know,” he murmured. “I just… Want to feel close to you.”

The bridge of her nose nuzzled against his jawline.

“I’ll always be right next to you,” she whispered, her thumb grazing over his cheek as his fingers nestled into her hair.

“Can we stay like this forever?” He sighed as his lips graced her forehead.

Their eyes met; her sparkling copper entranced by his deep cognac. Her gaze poured lovingly over him; the tall, strong frame that cradled her safely in his arms, the light traces of stubble across his jaw, the mappings of his freckles, the sweet, boyish smile that remained unchanged…

She nodded softly.

“Forever and always,” she smiled.

Chapter Text

In the autumnal evening hues that hung over The Highlands, the small Hamlet of Aranshire was aglow.

Lanterns floated over the small square, wafting gently to and fro in the cool breeze as the sound of laughter and clinking glasses poured from the windows and doorways of the Sallow home.

“Glad to see that the house is still standing,” Sebastian smirked, topping up Ominis’ glass.

“Glad to have you both back in one piece,” he nodded. “What on earth is this divine concoction, anyway?”

“Pomegranate wine,” Sebastian grinned. “Take it slowly.”

“When have I ever rushed a drink, Sebastian?” Ominis snorted, swilling his glass. “This isn’t The Hog’s Head, I know how to conduct myself.”

“I said the same thing until I was lying naked on the banks of the Nile,” Sebastian smirked as a shocked blush crept across his best friend’s face.

“How did you find Egypt?” Natty beamed, eager to hear her thoughts.

“Sublime,” she smiled, as Natty squealed with delight. “One of the most beautiful places I’ve ever encountered.”

“You must explore more of Africa when the opportunity arises,” she grinned keenly. "Perhaps even a visit to Matabeleland?"

“I couldn’t agree more, Natty! I'd be delighted to!” She laughed, sipping a sweet butterbeer. “It’s my husband you’ll have to convince – you’ll notice that he doesn’t take well to the sun…”

“I heard that, you troublesome minx,” Sebastian growled playfully, snaking an arm around her waist from behind as both women laughed. “Hello, Natty. Pleasure as always.” He crooned sweetly, resting his chin playfully on his partner’s shoulder. “Has my wife offered you a drink?”

“She has, thank you, Sebastian,” Natty giggled. “She’s been telling me all about your adventures.”

“Ah! Well, we can’t thank you enough for recommending we visit The Temple of Hatshepsut…” He replied. “An absolute masterpiece.”

“It’s Professor Ronen you have to truly thank,” Natty nodded, “I mentioned that you were visiting, and he told me that you couldn’t miss it.”

"Oh?" Sebastian queried, "I didn't realise he was so familiar with Egypt."

"His ancestry traces back to Cairo," she replied. "You should call in for a visit to Hogwarts, I'm sure he'd be delighted to hear all about your travels."

"I think we may just do exactly that, Natty," he smiled, turning to his wife, who nodded approvingly.

“And how is life at Hogwarts?” She smiled, her hand coming to rest on Sebastian’s, which in turn rested on her waist.

“Oh, you know…” Natty grinned, “Magical.”

“I understand you’re working under some kind of mentorship with Ronen?” Sebastian queried.

“I am indeed,” She chuckled, “He’s looking to retire in the next few years, so I’m spending this year shadowing his classes before I begin to assist in tutoring next year.”

“That’s wonderful, Natty,” she grinned, squeezing her friend’s hand. “Your mother must be so proud.”

“She is, but it’s nice to gain a little more independence…” She shrugged, earning a sympathetic chuckle from Sebastian. “But today isn’t about me…” She grinned, squeezing Sebastian’s shoulder as both women guided him into the living room.

“It’s about you two,” Speranza smiled, nodding towards Anne, “our birthday twins.”

“Hear, hear!” Ominis laughed, taking Anne’s hand.

“Oh Merlin…” Anne blushed softly.

“Honestly, you really don’t have to…” Sebastian grinned sheepishly.

“Nonsense!” Poppy laughed. “When was the last time you two actually celebrated your birthday?”

“You’re all far too kind,” he smiled, glancing at Anne. “I think I speak for both of us when I say that we’re so grateful for all of you. We can’t thank you enough for coming tonight…”

“Now please,” Anne giggled, “let's not get into speeches. Let's simply eat, drink and be merry!”

As the night wore on and the drinks flowed freely, the jovial atmosphere in the Sallow estate reached its peak. Chatter echoed off the walls as the merry band of friends indulged in the intoxicating warmth of the atmosphere.

“I fear we may be about to drink our hosts out of Firewhiskey!” Garreth chortled, slumping clumsily into an armchair.

“That’s why you’ve secretly been on pumpkin juice for the last hour, Weasley…” Sebastian winked, his slightly slurred speech betraying his composure.

“Stop teasing him, Seb,” She chuckled, nuzzling into his chest as their arms wrapped around each other.

“It’s my birthday, I’m allowed one jibe at him,” he smirked, resting his cheek on the top of her head.

“Ah, Merlin…” Poppy sighed contentedly, finishing the last dregs of her wine as she and Natty sprawled across the sofa. “When was the last time we all got together and did this?”

“It must’ve been after the Graduate Ball…” Garreth hummed, stumbling as he leaned over to top up Poppy’s glass.

“Ah, yes…” Natty laughed, “An unforgettable night -”

“That we’re all still struggling to remember,” Anne smirked, perching in the lap of a snoozing Ominis.

“Looks like someone’s had a little too much fun already…” Sebastian chuckled. “I told him to take it easy on that wine.”

“He absolutely has,” Anne smiled affectionately, her fingers brushing over Ominis’ cheeks. “I should get him up to bed.”

“Unchaperoned?!” Sebastian gasped teasingly, “Anne Marie Sallow, as your big brother and protector, I couldn’t possibly allow you and Ominis to…”

“Oh hush, Sebastian…” She groaned, guiding a drowsy Ominis up the stairs. “You’re three minutes older, he’s my fiancé, and you’re not exactly one to talk about abstaining from premarital relations, are you?”

A soft blush crept over the Sallows’ faces as drunken titters lulled out of their tipsy guests.

“I think it’s time we all started thinking about heading to bed,” Speranza chuckled, looking over the drowsy faces of their friends. “You’re all far too drunk to apparate, so I’ll conjure you some beds... Sebastian, grab some bedding from the cupboard upstairs, darling.”

“Yes, ma’am,” he crooned, pressing a soft kiss to the crown of her head before staggering up the stairs.

With their guests gratefully settled into their makeshift beds, the Sallows exchanged a weary smile. With one last glance at their slumbering friends, they made their way up the stairs to their own chamber, exhaustion weighing heavily on their limbs.

As they reached the sanctuary of their bedroom, Sebastian couldn't shake the nagging feeling that something was amiss. Turning to her, he hesitated momentarily before finally voicing his concern.

“You barely touched your glass tonight, my love,” he murmured, his voice tinged with both concern and Firewhiskey as he took her hand. “Is everything alright?”

She smiled tenderly at her husband. "I'm fine, darling," she reassured him, her voice soft and soothing. "Just not in the mood for wine tonight, that's all."

His brow furrowed with worry, his concern for his beloved wife overshadowing the haze of alcohol that clouded his thoughts. "Is something the matter?”

She smiled up at him, her eyes sparkling with warmth. "No, my love," she replied, her voice tender as she reached out to caress his cheek, "it's nothing to worry about. The taste of wine just isn't sitting well with me tonight, that's all."

“That’s… Unusual...” He murmured, his voice laden with concern. “Should I wake Ominis?”

“We both know that would be a terrible idea right now, darling,” she chuckled, affectionately brushing his messy hair off his face. “I’m sure it’s just a passing thing.”

"Alright," he conceded, his voice tinged with reluctance. "But if you start to feel unwell, you'll tell me, won't you?"

“I promise,” she smiled, wrapping her arms around his neck and kissing him tenderly. “The real question is,” she murmured coyly against his lips, “How are you feeling, Mr. Sallow?”

A warm flush rippled through his body.

That title was reserved for nights when she was feeling particularly devilish.

“No amount of Firewhiskey could ever get in the way of you calling me that,” he growled triumphantly, scooping her into his arms as he carried her into their bedroom.

As he lay her down tenderly on their bed, a playful smirk danced at her lips.

“I have another present for you,” she purred, nodding to the dressing table.

“What gift could possibly distract me from my beautiful wife at this very moment?” He crooned flirtatiously, his teeth pulling softly at her earlobe and his breath hot against her ear.

“Trust me,” she gasped, her back arching instinctively as his lips traced hungrily across her jawline and down her neck.

His thumbs traced softly across her cheeks as he pressed a deep, passionate kiss to her lips before propping himself up, turning towards the dressing table and reaching for the small, velvet box tied in a satin, emerald ribbon. His brows furrowed in confused amusement as he lifted the lid, pulling out coils of the same satin ribbon from inside the box.

“I’m not sure I quite understa-” he began, stopping in his tracks as he laid eyes on her.

The teal dress she had been wearing moments prior now lay discarded on their bedroom floor. In its place, sheer lace and identical emerald ribbons clung to her body; caressing the soft curves of her waist, hips and bust.

“Come and unwrap your present, Mr. Sallow…” She cooed.

“I was right all along,” he chuckled darkly, his empty hand tugging hungrily at the sheer lace covering her breasts. “You look incredible in green, darling.”

She mewled longingly as his body pressed against hers, his fingers slipping under the lace to tease her pert nipple.

“Ooh, we are very sensitive there tonight aren’t we, princess?” He whispered encouragingly, feeling the increasing heat and wetness grinding against his growing hardness as he continued to roll and lightly pinch her nipple between his fingers and a soft moan escaped her lips.

“Now enlighten me, Mrs. Sallow…” He continued, holding up the green ribbons still in his fist as he hovered over her. “What are these delightful little things for?”

A hot blush flushed across her cheeks as she locked eyes with him. Without uttering a word, she slowly raised her arms above her head, allowing her wrists to cross over as they rested against the headboard.

“Oh…” Sebastian smirked; an assertive, satisfied growl rippling through his chest. “I understand perfectly.”

Chapter Text

“Are you sure I can’t help today?” She called, fixing the last button on her jacket. “I can only imagine that it’s going to be a bit of a mammoth task, sorting out that huge townhouse…”

“We’ve got it completely under control, my love,” Sebastian smiled, cherishing both the final dregs of his morning coffee and the waft of her perfume that lingered in the air. “Consider the mammoth tamed.”

“Alright,” she chuckled, adjusting the final touches of her makeup, “If you say so.”

He paused a moment, coffee cup in hand, to admire her; the tweed riding trousers, paired with the tan lace-up boots with that slight heel that moulded to the soft curves of her body, his navy shirt tucked perfectly into them…

Merlin, she was irresistible.

“Are we working in the oxygen chamber today?” He crooned, a playful smirk plastered onto his face.

“You know we don’t have an oxygen chamber,” she giggled as he snuck up behind her to wrap his arm around her waist. “And even if we did, I wouldn’t be able to tell you about it.”

“I know,” he grinned, pressing doting kisses to her cheek, tracing down to her jawline, “it’s just that you’re taking my breath away this morning…” His breath tickled against her ear as his lips worked their way down her neck. “You should wear my shirts more often.”

“Your shirts are the only thing that are allowing me to breathe at the moment,” she laughed, her hands raking through his messy morning locks. “A few weeks in Egypt and I’m completely out of shape.”

“Nonsense,” Sebastian whispered dotingly, his chin resting on her shoulder as they stared at each other in the mirror’s reflection. “You look as beautiful as you always have, and always will.”

“Even with a few extra pounds?” She sighed.

“You’re a woman, my love,” he smiled, “your body is going to change and grow as we get older. As is mine. Merlin, you’ve seen what Solomon looks like… I hope you’re ready for a lifetime of those Sallow genes…”

A small snort escaped her as she rested her head beside his.

“You’ll always be perfect to me,” she murmured softly.

“As will you to me, darling,” he sighed contentedly. “Now, you mustn’t keep the Wizarding World waiting,” he winked. “The Ministry will be falling apart without you.”

He pecked her softly on the lips as she collected her satchel.

“Have a wonderful day in the… Hall of Prophecies?”

“No comment,” she smirked.

“Ah, Space Chamber it is,” he chuckled as she winked at him before closing the door behind her.

-

Of all the sensations to hit him first, he had not expected it to be the smell.

The familiar scent of old parchment washed comfortingly over him as the sound of his shoes against the ancient stone floor resounded through the hallways. As he passed through flurries of students donned in gold, emerald, scarlet and midnight blue, he couldn’t help but wonder to himself…

Were all first-years really that tiny?

Rounding another corner, he strode across the familiar Transfiguration Courtyard leading to the Astronomy Wing.

“Who is that?” A flurry of Hufflepuffs whispered to themselves as the tall figure passed them.

“That’s Sebastian Sallow!” A lone Slytherin chimed in, “He was the only Hogwarts graduate to be accepted onto the Auror training programme last year.”

“He’s very handsome…” A young Hufflepuff sighed dreamily.

“He’s also very married,” the Slytherin smirked at her disappointed friend. “His wife is the Hero of Hogwarts – the one who fought that Goblin, Ranrok.”

“Not to mention, he’s a Legendary Crossed Wands Champion…” A familiar voice called, flustering the flurry of students, hushing and tutting at the Gryffindor in question, and stopping Sebastian in his tracks.

He turned on his heel to face the student, a wide smirk plastered on both of their faces.

“Hello, Lucan,” Sebastian grinned, striding back across the Courtyard to shake the boy’s hand. “Merlin, you’ve grown. You’re almost as tall as me now!”

“The growth spurt over the summer helped,” Lucan chuckled, “but I don’t think I’ll ever quite match up to the heights of the Sebastian Sallow.”

“Thanks for keeping my ego in check,” he winked. “I don’t suppose you’d know where I could find Professor Ronen at this hour, do you?”

“Why yes, he’ll be finishing up with his second-years in the next fifteen minutes,” he nodded. “I don’t suppose you’d be free later this afternoon to stop in for a Crossed Wands meeting, would you? The first-years wouldn’t believe their eyes if they saw you.”

“I’ll do my best, Lucan,” he smiled. “Apologies to have disrupted your study hour, ladies,” he grinned, nodding courteously to the gaggle of young students behind Lucan as he departed for Ronen’s classroom.

“Now remember,” Ronen’s warm voice boomed as the second-years hurried to pack their things away, “the key to mastering any charm is clarity; I want to see lots of clear enunciation and deliberate movements in our next class!”

Sebastian chuckled as the flurry of students rushed out of the door in their close-knit groups, leaving their professor to sort through a large pile of books on his desk. He shuffled quietly into the room; his wand aimed at the spines.

“Levioso,” Sebastian announced clearly, causing Ronen to jump back in surprise at the tomes lifted weightlessly off his desk.

“Took me weeks to master that when I was their age,” Sebastian grinned, tucking his wand securely back into his tweed blazer. “I’d probably still be struggling if it wasn’t for you.”

“Oh-ho, Mr. Sallow!” Ronen chuckled, pulling Sebastian into a warm, welcoming embrace. “A pleasure to see you.”

“Likewise, Professor,” he smiled. “Do you have a moment? There are a few matters I’d greatly appreciate your advice on.”

“For you, my boy, I’ll clear my whole afternoon…” Ronen nodded, beaming with pride at the young graduate as he gestured for Sebastian to join him in ascending the spiral staircase leading to his office. “Come upstairs, take tea with me. We’ll talk there.”

“So,” Ronen smiled, pouring the mixture of black tea and mint leaves into a small cup that Sebastian took gratefully. “How can I assist you?”

“Whilst my wife and I were in Egypt, we ran into a bit of trouble in the form of rogue wizards who appear to have turned to tomb raiding in light of the crackdown on poaching…” Sebastian hummed, blowing on the hot tea before taking a slow sip.

“Ah yes… My congratulations to you both!” Ronen grinned, to which Sebastian smiled softly. “Tell me more about this trouble…” He frowned curiously. “Knowing you both, I can’t imagine that apprehending them was the issue.”

“They mentioned a Relic that they sought… An Ankh…” Sebastian continued, stirring a small spoonful of brown sugar into his cup. “It’s not one I’d heard of before, although I’ll confess it wasn’t exactly my area of expertise prior to this. However, through my own independent research, I’ve concluded they could only by referring to the Ankh of Osiris.”

Ronen coughed and spluttered up his sip of tea, taken aback by Sebastian’s statement.

“How could…” He stuttered, visibly alarmed, “How could they know… How do you…?”

“Know about the Ankh?” Sebastian continued, unfazed, “I don’t, Sir. Rest assured, nor do they. They didn’t even truly understand what they were searching for… Nor do I. Which is why I turn to you.”

Ronen stared at him, the panic evident on his features.

“Sebastian, my boy…” He pleaded, “You have always searched for greatness, your thirst for knowledge knows no bounds… That is something I have always admired in you. But please… You cannot ask me to divulge this knowledge.”

“Professor, please understand, I don’t seek the Relic…” Sebastian soothed. “I learnt my lesson with Relics long ago. My concern is why a group of hired tomb robbers would recognise my wife and then call for an alert to a man that I know to be dead… All whilst searching for a Relic with links to the God of Death.”

“You fear that these incidents are more than just coincidences?” Ronen queried; his brow furrowed in thought. “You said yourself, these criminals turned to grave robbery in a knee-jerk retaliation to the crackdowns on poaching. It’s no secret that your wife played a huge part in that crackdown… Perhaps that is how they recognised her?”

“Professor, I don’t believe in coincidences.” Sebastian frowned, as Ronen continued to pace in thought.

“Who did they call to alert?” He asked.

Sebastian sat back in his chair, discomfort rippling through his spine.

“… Victor Rookwood.” He sneered, causing Ronen to halt in his pacing.

“… Ah.” Ronen squeaked. “I see your dilemma.”

Sebastian sighed heavily, his head resting in his hands as Ronen resumed his pacing.

“Did she recognise any of them?” He probed.

“She was…” Sebastian hesitated, “A little distracted by other matters.”

“Sebastian,” Ronen warned, “if I am going to disclose secrets to you, you must share some with me. What happened in that tomb?”

“It wasn’t any tomb…” Sebastian murmured. “It was… Akhenaten’s.”

“Merlin’s beard,” Ronen gasped, “they were searching for The Heretic?”

“They were searching for the Ankh of Osiris,” Sebastian corrected. “But why would they search for it there? Akhenaten didn’t believe in the old Gods.”

“He most certainly did not,” Ronen nodded. “He was corrupt. Maddened by some obscene source of Ancient Magic… He called it The Aten.”

“The very same source of power that has been wielded by a select few over centuries…” Sebastian elaborated. “The very same Ancient Magic that you fought to protect from the hands of Ranrok.”

Ronen’s mouth fell agape as his eyes met Sebastian’s.

“She’s a wielder,” he gasped, as Sebastian nodded slowly.

“As was Percival Rackham”

“As in…?”

“Former Professor of Hogwarts, yes…” Sebastian nodded. “He formed a society to protect it, with members including Victor Rookwood’s ancestor. Does the name Isidora Morganach mean anything to you?”

“No…” He frowned. “Should it?”

“She was something of a heretic, too…” Sebastian explained. “The repository underneath the castle was her doing. Victor Rookwood and Ranrok worked in tandem to seek it out... That is, until he was no longer of use to the Goblins.”

“Godric’s heart…” Ronen gasped.

“He almost killed my sister and my wife…” Sebastian continued. “It’s almost poetic that the Ancient Magic he sought was what brought about his demise.”

Ronen nodded understandingly.

“So, you’ll forgive my scepticism that any of this could possibly be a coincidence, Professor.”

“I agree, it is not.” Ronen hummed, stroking his beard. “We must return to Egypt, you and I… I shall write to the Council and request an audience for us.”

“What about my wife?”

“If they are still looking for the Ankh in Egypt,” Ronen began, “we must keep them distracted there, and away from her.”

Sebastian nodded understandingly.

Pulling a fresh roll of parchment from the drawer of his desk, Ronen paused a moment before striding over to Sebastian and resting his hand comfortingly on his shoulder.

“Thank you for coming to me with this,” he whispered. “You may rest assured that all your secrets are safe with me.”

“Professor Fig always assured me that you were someone I could confide my troubles in,” Sebastian smiled. “I’m sorry it took me this long to do so.”

“Did Eleazar know about all of this?” Ronen asked softly, “Is that why he was so protective of her?”

Sebastian nodded gently.

“Then I shall not let any of you down,” Ronen smiled bittersweetly.

Chapter Text

As the clock tower bells rang out on the hour, a small band of students gathered in the stone hallway underneath its swinging pendulum. The air was thick with anticipation as students squared off in pairs, wands at the ready.

Amidst the crackling duels, a hushed murmur spread through the room as the onlookers gathered around one particular match. A second-year Gryffindor found himself outnumbered, facing off against two older Ravenclaw opponents. Sweat beading on his brow, he struggled to defend against their relentless barrage of spells. Panic setting in, he struggled to keep up. His wand movements faltered and grew sloppy as he was gripped in the interlocking of fatigue and fear. It seemed inevitable that he would soon be defeated; his dreams of duelling glory shattered before they had even begun.

As he braced himself for the final, devastating blow from his opponents, a sudden hush fell over the room.

A shimmering shield had materialised around him, deflecting the incoming spells with ease. Confusion rippled through the crowd before the confident stride of footsteps parted them, gasping in disbelief as the unfamiliar figure entered the duelling ring.

With a grin, Sebastian raised his wand, commanding the attention of the room.

"Now, now, let's not make it too easy for them," he declared, his voice carrying across the chamber. Turning to the young Gryffindor, he offered a reassuring nod.

"Focus yourself. You've got this. I've got your back."

Refocusing his mind, the young student’s movements regained their precision. Emboldened by the unexpected support, he began to fight back, casting powerful spells with newfound determination.

With a flick of his wand, Sebastian sent bursts of sparks into the fray, disrupting the older students' tactics and giving the young duellist the openings he needed. They formed an unlikely duo, their teamwork seamless as they turned the tide of the duel.

The older students, caught off guard by the sudden reversal, faltered in their attacks. With a final surge of energy, the second-year delivered the decisive blow, sending his opponents sprawling to the ground in defeat.

As the cheers erupted around them, Lucan grinned proudly, watching the scene unfold.

“It appears we have a new champion for this term…” He beamed, “Congratulations, Albus Dumbledore!”

“Excellent work, Albus,” Sebastian smiled warmly, shaking the young boy’s hand firmly. “You’re quite the duellist.”

“Th-thank you, sir…” He grinned eagerly.

"Ladies and gentlemen,” Lucan called to the gathered crowd, “I have the distinct pleasure of introducing a special guest to our club this afternoon. A true legend among our ranks, a former champion whose name is synonymous with skill, cunning, and a touch of mischief..."

As Lucan's words hung in the air, a hushed silence fell over the room, anticipation building as all eyes turned to Sebastian. Gasps of recognition and shock rippled through the crowd.

Sebastian grinned modestly in response to the astonished gazes directed his way, his eyes twinkling with amusement.

“Let’s give a proper Hogwarts welcome… Or should I say, welcome back, to Mr. Sebastian Sallow!”

The club members erupted into cheers and applause; their admiration palpable in the buzz of the air.

As the ovation died down, Sebastian raised his hand for silence, his gaze sweeping over the assembled wizards and witches with a mix of warmth and authority.

"My fellow Duellists," he began, "it's an honour to stand before you once more, in this hallowed hall of duelling prowess. Today, as we celebrate the triumphs of Albus and his fellow duellists, I am reminded of the lessons that have guided me throughout my own journey..."

He paused, allowing his words to sink in before continuing.

"Duelling is not merely about casting spells and incantations. It's about quick thinking, adaptability, and above all, staying focused in the heat of battle."

Sebastian's eyes sparkled with intensity as he spoke, his evident in every word. "In the face of adversity, it's easy to succumb to panic or doubt. But true mastery lies in our ability to remain calm under pressure, to think several steps ahead, and to seize every opportunity that presents itself."

"But," he added, his tone softening, "duelling is not a solitary endeavour. It's about more than just individual skill… It's about teamwork.”

His chest ached fondly as the memories of his own duels within these very halls. Namely, the ones he’d shared with her. As the sound of their shared cheers and laughter after countless combined victories rang through his mind, he continued:

“Just as we saw here, the bonds we forge with our fellow wizards and witches are the bedrock of our strength. Together, we are stronger than the sum of our parts. By working in tandem, supporting one another and pooling our talents, we can overcome any obstacle that stands in our way."

He paused, allowing his words to linger in the air, before concluding with a final thought.

"So let us remember, as we continue our respective journeys, that true greatness is not achieved alone. It's achieved through collaboration, camaraderie, and the unwavering belief that together, we can accomplish anything."

-

“A very touching display in the clock tower this afternoon,” Sharp smirked as they strolled together towards Hogsmeade in the golden hues of sunset. “When might we be accepting your application for Defence Against the Dark Arts Professor?”

“No time soon, I fear,” he chuckled. “I still have a life sentence as an Auror to serve.”

“A shame,” Sharp retorted, “Professor Sallow has a nice ring to it.”

“That it does,” he hummed in agreement. “Not to mention the fact that I’d finally be able to fully access that Restricted Section...”

“As you say, life sentence as an Auror and all that…” Sharp nodded firmly, earning a laugh from Sebastian. “Speaking of that, how was your time in Egypt?”

“I was hoping we could discuss that over a pint?” Sebastian queried, to which Sharp nodded understandingly as they strolled into sight of the familiar thatched rooftops.

“There’s more to these raids than petty thievery,” Sebastian began as they settled into one of the more private booths of The Three Broomsticks. “It’s not just smuggling, either; they’re searching for something in particular.”

“What and for whom?” Sharp replied, slowly nursing his ale.

“Some kind of relic,” he frowned. “Linked to one of the Ancient Gods…”

“Sebastian,” Sharp interrupted, “you cannot go wading into this. This is for the Egyptian Wizarding Government to resolve.”

“These are British bandits!” Sebastian pressed. “They’re working for Victor Rookwood.”

“He’s commissioning from beyond the grave?” Sharp retorted dryly.

“Aesop, I’m serious,” he hissed. “One of them recognised her. They were instructed to alert Rookwood.”

A concerned frown flashed across Sharp’s face.

“You warned me that she’d be a target, and you were right...” Sebastian continued. “Now, I have to protect her.”

“Even if he were somehow alive,” Sharp mused, ‘he’d be no match for her. She’s no ordinary witch, Sebastian. She's a powerful sorcerer, more than capable of defending herself… Merlin, if a sixteen-year-old student can defeat him, imagine what an Unspeakable could do...”

“I can’t do nothing,” Sebastian frowned. “Not again.”

In that moment, there was a flicker of recognition in Sharp’s mind; a spark of revelation that allowed the pieces to fall into place.

"Sebastian," he began, his voice measured but tinged with empathy, "I think there's something else at play here."

Sebastian looked up, curiosity and apprehension mingling in his gaze. "What do you mean?”

He paused for a moment, gathering his thoughts before continuing.

"It's not just about whether she can defend herself at all, is it? This need to intervene… It's rooted in something deeper.”

Sebastian's expression faltered, his eyes betraying a hint of vulnerability.

“It's about what happened before, isn't it?"

Sebastian's breath caught in his throat, the weight of Sharp’s words pressing restrictively against his chest.

Sharp’s typically stoic expression softened as he looked at the young man across the table, a flicker of vulnerability in his eyes.

"Sebastian, I understand more than you know."

Sebastian's gaze shifted.

"What do you mean?"

Sharp’s gaze grew distant, lost in haunting memories.

"There was a time, many years ago, when I made a grave error in judgment. It cost someone their life… A colleague..."

He sighed reluctantly.

“… My partner.”

Sebastian's eyes widened in shock before a pang of understanding washed over him.

"I'm so sorry, Aesop," he murmured.

Sharp nodded in sombre acknowledgement.

"It was a mistake I can never undo, Sebastian. And every day, I find myself haunted by the what-ifs, the could-have-beens..."

Sebastian’s tentative hand found its way to his mentor’s shoulder.

“It’s not your fault,” he whispered. “You made the best call you could with all of the information given to you at the time… How could you have known differently? You mustn’t blame yourself for what happened.”

Sharp's gaze softened, a silent acknowledgement passing between them. "Neither must you,” he said gently. "You were sixteen and a student, battling your own demons. How could you have predicted Rookwood's ambush?"

Sebastian swallowed, the memories flooding back with painful clarity.

-

“If you’re here to scold me for dragging her up a mountain…” He’d groaned as the door to their dormitory had swung open to reveal the stone-faced glare of Ominis Gaunt, only to shield himself from the jet of magic that hissed past his ear a few moments later.

“Not sure what I did to deserve that.”

“You utter prat.” Ominis hissed. “Do you have any idea what your meddling has gotten her into?”

Abandoning his book to sit up on his bed, an exasperated groan heaved through Sebastian’s chest.

“Ominis, whatever nonsense you’ve heard-”

“Victor Rookwood was sighted in Hogsmeade.” He interrupted. “He ambushed her outside of Ollivander’s.”

Sebastian's heart plummeted.

Time seemed to stand still as the weight of Ominis's words settled over him like a suffocating blanket.

Panic surged through his veins; a cold dread washing over him like a tidal wave. Guilt gnawed agonisingly at his conscience.

In that moment of paralyzing fear, Sebastian's mind raced with a million questions and twice as many regrets.

"W-where is she?"

Sebastian's voice trembled with urgency as he looked at Ominis, his eyes wide with fear and desperation.

Ominis hesitated for a moment, his expression clouded with concern.

"I don't know. The news just reached me, but I had to come and warn you."

"She’s still out there?! We have to help her!" He insisted, his voice barely above a whisper. "We can't just sit here and do nothing!"

Ominis nodded, his own fear mirroring Sebastian's. "I know, Sebastian. But we have to be careful. Rookwood is dangerous, and we don't know what he's capable of..."

“Attention all students!”

The disembodied voice of Professor Weasley echoed through the stone corridors of Hogwarts, commanding attention with its urgency and sending ripples of unease through the air.

"Due to the recent abduction of a student from Hogsmeade, Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry is now on lockdown. All students are to return to their dormitories immediately. I repeat, all students are to return to their dormitories immediately. All Prefects, please begin your roll calls upon arrival."

The words hung in the air, heavy and foreboding. Panic rippled through the halls as students exchanged worried glances and hurried to obey the directive.

As the realization dawned on them, Sebastian's hands clenched into fists, his knuckles turning white with tension.

"No," he whispered, his voice barely audible above the din of panicked voices piling into the Slytherin Common Room. His jaw clenched with frustration; his thoughts consumed by the urgency of finding her as he began to pace helplessly around the dormitory.

“This isn’t happening… This isn’t happening.” He murmured frantically. “We can still find her. If we can slip out of the Common Room undetected, we can use the One-Eyed-Witch Passageway…”

“Sebastian…”

“She mentioned it in passing a couple of months ago, apparently it leads to the basement of Honeydukes. It’ll be difficult to sneak out, but we can manage…”

“Sebastian…”

“I’ll write to Sirona, she can meet us in the Main Square and we’ll-”

“Sebastian.” Ominis pressed. “We can’t.”

Sebastian's voice trailed off as Ominis's interruption cut through his frantic planning. He turned to his friend, a mixture of frustration and desperation in his eyes.

“The school is locked down. There’s no way in or out,” Ominis sighed.

"But we have to do something, Ominis!" Sebastian insisted, his voice tinged with urgency. "She's out there, in danger!"

"I know, Sebastian. But even if we could slip out of the Common Room and venture into Hogsmeade right now—it's too risky. We could get caught… Or killed."

Sebastian's shoulders slumped in defeat, the weight of their predicament pressing down on him like a ton of bricks. "But what else can we do?" he asked, his voice hollow with resignation.

Ominis reached out, placing a comforting hand on Sebastian's shoulder. "We have to trust that the professors and the Ministry will do everything they can to find her," he said gently. 

Sebastian nodded, a sense of helplessness washing over him.

Ominis squeezed Sebastian's shoulder in a silent gesture of support. "I'm so sorry, but all we can do right now is wait and pray that she’s unharmed."

-

"I've carried that guilt for so long," he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper.

"Sebastian, some things are simply beyond our control..." Sharp shrugged. “Death being a prime example of that… No magic on this earth can truly resurrect a dead man.”

He took a slow drag of his ale.

“If only there were... Merlin, I’d do anything to bring her back.”

Sebastian's mind snapped back to the present, the urgency in Sharp’s voice pulling him from his thoughts.

"Sorry, what did you say?" he asked, confusion etched into his features.

Sharp’s gaze was distant, lost in the weight of his own words.

"I'd do anything to bring her back," he repeated.

It hit him.

Like a bolt of lightning illuminating the darkness, it hit him... A revelation so profound that it left him breathless.

"The Ankh of Osiris..." He whispered.

"I'm sorry?" Sharp hesitated, a confused frown furrowing his brow.

"The Ankh of Osiris," Sebastian exclaimed, his voice trembling with excitement and realization.

Sharp turned to him, a look of curiosity mingled with concern etched on his face.

"Sebastian, what are you talking about?"

Sebastian's eyes gleamed with newfound understanding as he explained, his words tumbling out in a rush.

"The Ankh of Osiris... It has the power to bring back the dead. It's the key to resurrection…”

His voice rang out with excitement, his eyes alight. "That’s why the Council of Sorcerers don't want it to be discovered! They’re hiding their own Ancient Magic! It all makes sense!"

Sharp's gaze sharpened with realization as he processed Sebastian's words.

"Of course," he murmured, the puzzle pieces falling into place. "They’ve guarded their ancient artefacts so closely for centuries..."

Sebastian nodded eagerly, his mind racing with possibilities.

"And Rookwood and his bandits must have stumbled upon this knowledge somehow.”

"But Sebastian, Rookwood is dead," he countered, a note of scepticism in his voice. “This we know.”

Sebastian's determination didn't waver.

"Yes, you're right," he conceded, "but they're going to try and resurrect him."

Sharp's brow furrowed in concern. "Resurrect him?" he repeated, a sense of unease creeping into his tone.  

“They're not just after treasure, Aesop…” Sebastian explained. “They're after the ultimate power over life and death."

“Godric’s Heart…” Sharp breathed, ‘If they succeed…”

"They’re not going to. We’re not going to let them.” Sebastian interrupted, hastily slamming a generous tip for Sirona on the table as he grabbed their coats. “Professor Ronen has requested an audience with the Council of Sorcerers. We have to get back to the castle and let him know what we’ve discovered."

Sebastian's gaze shifted to Sharp, a flicker of determination in his eyes.

"We have to do that?" He retorted.

A small smirk played at the corners of Sebastian's lips.

"But of course, Aesop," he replied, his voice tinged with excitement. "What do you say, fancy being an Auror for one last time?"

Sharp's expression softened, a rare glint of amusement shining in his eyes.

"I'm pretty sure it's a crime to impersonate an Auror, you know..."

Sebastian shrugged comically.

"I won't tell if you don't."

"... One last time, then.” He agreed with a smile.

Chapter Text

“Where have you been?”

A discomforting chill rippled down his spine as the door clicked shut behind him.

“Darling,” he sighed, “I can explain…”

“You lied to me,” she stated bluntly, the hurt evident in the slight falter in her voice. “We don’t lie to eachother, Sebastian.”

“Whatever you think is going on, I assure you-”

“Well that’s just thing, Sebastian…” She snapped, descending the final steps into the hallway. “For the first time in three years, I have no idea what’s going on, or where you’ve been all day!”

“I had to go back to Hogwarts,” he sighed truthfully. “I had business with-”

“Why on earth would you need to go to Hogwarts?!” She frowned. “And more importantly, why wouldn’t you just tell me that you were going there instead of lying to me about helping Ominis move into his new house...”

“I had to speak to Ronen and Sharp,” he explained, removing his jacket and undoing the top button on his collar. “Work matters… Auror things.”

She froze, glaring at him.

“Work matters?!” She repeated. “When has work ever required you to keep secrets from me?”

“Oh, I don’t know…” He retorted, his heightened state getting the better of him. “Perhaps I thought you’d like to know how it feels to be constantly kept in the dark about your partner’s job?”

The minute the words tumbled from his mouth, he regretted them. He looked on in internalised horror as he saw his words cut through her chest.

She took a moment to blink back tears, allowing an aching sigh to heave through her.

“That’s different,” she replied. “You know it is… We talked about it before I agreed to take the job.”

He did know it was different.

Why were they fighting?

Anxiety and helplessness bubbled in his stomach, threatening to burst out of him in an uncontrollable catastrophe. Every cell in his body was screaming at him to just be honest with her, to tell her everything…

Yet, some spark of stubbornness deep within him needed to do this.

To protect her, the way he had failed to do so before.

Her quiet footsteps came to a halt in front of his tall frame. His uncharacteristically cold eyes gazed avoidantly into the glowing hearth before them.

Her soft hand nervously grazed his numb cheek.

“Please talk to me,” she breathed. “Whatever it is, Seb… You can tell me.”

It broke his heart to hear her plead.

You promised not to shut her out, his conscience called to him. You vowed you’d never do this to her ever again...

Sebastian wrestled with his inner turmoil, his silence weighing heavily in the air between them. He could feel her warmth radiating beside him, her presence a comforting beacon in the midst of the storm that rumbled in his mind.

The gravity of his situation pressed down upon him like a boulder, suffocating any words that struggled to find their way out.

“I have carried the weight of the Wizarding world on my shoulders for the last two years...”

Her tearful cries from the night of the Ball panged through his chest.

"I never wanted to be a hero... I just wanted to do what was right!"

How could he tell her about the dark forces stirring once more?

How could he burden her with the knowledge of the impending threat looming over their world?

"I can't," he whispered finally, his voice barely audible above the crackling of the flames. "Not yet."

Her hand fell away from his cheek, her disappointment palpable even in the dim light of the fire.

"Sebastian, please..."

He closed his eyes, unable to bear the hurt in her voice.

"I have to go," he murmured, the words tasting bitter on his tongue. "There's... There's something I need to take care of."

"Go?" she repeated, her voice trembling with a mixture of confusion and fear. "Where?"

He opened his eyes, meeting her gaze for the first time since he had entered the room. "Egypt," he said simply, his heart heavy with the weight of his decision. "There are... Things I need to investigate."

She stared at him, her expression a mixture of disbelief and betrayal.

"Egypt?" she repeated, her voice barely more than a whisper. "When will you be back?"

"I don't know," he admitted, the truth like a knife twisting in his chest. "But I promise... I'll come back to you."

Tears welled in her eyes, her silence speaking volumes as she processed the enormity of his words. Without another word, Sebastian turned away, unable to bear the weight of her gaze any longer.

“This is about that Relic they were looking for, isn’t it?”

Sebastian froze at her words, the accusation hanging heavy in the air between them. He turned to face her; his jaw clenched with frustration.

"What if it is?" he snapped, his voice sharper than intended. "What if there's something out there that could help us stop what's coming?"

Her eyes widened with a mixture of shock and anguish.

"Stop what's coming?!" she echoed, her voice shrill. "And you think keeping me in the dark and risking your life for some ancient Relic is the answer?!"

"It's not just 'some ancient Relic'," he shot back, his emotions bubbling.

“Where have I heard that before?” She snapped.

“It always comes back to that, doesn’t it?” he retorted, his voice strained with anger.

His frustration boiled over, his defences rising like a wall between them.

“When are you going to stop punishing me for wanting to protect the people I love?”

Her jaw clenched with pent-up anger and fear, her hands trembling at her sides.

"I'm not punishing you," she shot back, her voice tinged with desperation. "I'm scared, Sebastian... I’m scared that history will repeat itself and that I'm about to lose you to Dark Magic."

"You don't trust me," he spat, his words laced with bitterness. "After everything we've been through, after all the promises we've made to each other, you still don't trust me!"

Her eyes blazed with defiance, her hurt fuelling the flames of their argument.

“Says the one who’s keeping secrets!”

He recoiled as if struck, the weight of her words hitting him like a physical blow.

"It's not about trust," she insisted, her voice trembling. "I just can't bear to watch you throw your life… Our life… Away, chasing after something that could destroy you."

"Destroy me?" he scoffed, his anger boiling over. "You think I'm so weak that I can't handle a little danger? That I’m just going to waltz into the jaws of death?”

Her fists clenched at her sides, tears stinging her eyes as she struggled to hold back the rising tide of her emotions. "You're not weak," she whispered hoarsely. "But you're not invincible, Sebastian… And I can't stand by and watch you risk everything for something we know nothing about."

The words hung heavily in the air between them, a silent testament to the gulf that had opened between their hearts.

As Sebastian turned away, his chest aching, she felt a cold dread settle in the pit of her stomach.

"I have to go," he murmured, his voice heavy with regret.

“Seb…”

Her voice cracked with desperation, her plea echoing through the empty space between them. Tears blurred her vision as she reached out for him, her hand trembling…

"Please," she begged, her voice barely more than a whisper. "Don't leave.”

Sebastian paused in his tracks, his heart wrenching at the raw anguish in her voice.

He turned to face her, his eyes glistening with unshed tears as he took in the sight of the woman he loved more than life itself.

He longed to gather her in his arms. To feel her warmth and breathe in her beautiful scent… To promise her that everything would be alright…

"I have to," he murmured, his voice thick with sorrow. "You know I do."

Her heart shattered at his words, the weight of his decision crushing her.

She wanted to scream... To beg him to reconsider... But she knew that it was futile.

His mind was made up.

"I love you," she whispered, her voice barely more than a breath of air. "Please don't forget that."

His eyes brimmed with pain as he reached out to brush a tear from her cheek.

"I could never forget," he murmured.

As cool beams of moonlight poured through the windowpanes, their tear-stricken eyes met.

He stared longingly at his wife, recalling the frightened young woman in that cobble-stoned courtyard who had wept in his arms in a dress that had reflected the cosmos... And how, from that moment on, she had become his entire universe. 

How he would go to the ends of the earth to keep her safe.

How there was nothing he wouldn't do to protect her...

Even if that meant hurting her right now.

“I love you too,” he whispered back to her. “More than words could ever express.”

As much as it pained him to leave her behind, he knew that he had to.

For her sake.

For their sake.

As Sebastian's footsteps faded into the distance, she collapsed to the floor; the weight of his absence crushing her.

Tears streamed down her cheeks unchecked as she struggled to make sense of the whirlwind of emotions raging within her.

Panic gripped her heart like a vice, squeezing the air from her lungs as she gasped for breath. Her chest tightened with each shallow inhale, the world spinning around her in a blur of despair and confusion.

Just as she felt herself slipping further into the abyss of her fear, a familiar presence enveloped her in a warm embrace.

She looked up through tear-blurred eyes to see Ominis kneeling beside her, his expression filled with concern and compassion.

"It’s alright," he murmured soothingly, his voice a balm to her shattered nerves. "I'm here. I've got you."

She clung to him like a lifeline, the solidity of his presence grounding her in the midst of her turmoil. He held her close, offering silent comfort as she trembled in his arms, her sobs echoing in the empty room.

Time seemed to stand still as they remained locked in their embrace, the only sound the steady rhythm of their breathing. Gradually, as the storm within her began to subside, she felt a flicker of hope stir her battered heart as she heard another set of footsteps approaching.

“We’re here, darling,” Anne whispered. “We’re going to look after you. It’s going to be alright.”

"Thank you," she whispered hoarsely. "I don't know what I would do without either of you."

Chapter Text

A fresh burst of April rain pattered softly against the window.

As he turned the final page of his book, a distant rumble of thunder rippled through the Hamlet.

He turned instinctively towards his wife and daughter, dozing comfortably in the armchair beside the glowing fire.

He couldn't help but smile at the serene scene before him; his wife, with the gentle smile stretching across her lips and the soft rise and fall of her chest with each breath, emanated a sense of peace. Their daughter, nestled against her mother, looked like a tiny cherub in the warm glow of the firelight.

Turning his attention back to the window, he watched as the rain continued its rhythmic dance against the glass…

A matinee of nature's own lullaby.

With a sense of contentment settling over him, he rose from his armchair, careful not to disturb his slumbering family, and made his way up the stairs to his study.

The faint scent of aged wood and leather greeted him upon entry, mingling with the aroma of the tea he had brewed earlier. His dark, focused eyes were drawn to the large oak desk that dominated the space, its surface adorned with various trinkets and mementoes collected over the years…

But it was the simple brass scales, smooth and polished from years of use, resting in the centre of the desk that held his attention most.

He settled into his chair, the worn leather creaking softly in protest, and reached out to touch the scales, tracing the intricate patterns etched into the brass. Lost in his thoughts, he didn't notice the soft padding of tiny feet approaching until a small voice broke through his reverie.

 “Papa, what are you doing?”

He looked up to see his son standing in the doorway, his eyes wide with curiosity and his cheeks flushed from sleep.

It was like looking into a miniature mirror.

With a warm smile, he motioned for the boy to come closer, patting the space beside him.

“I was contemplating balance, Sebastian,” his father smiled, his voice gentle yet firm. “You see, it’s something that so many strive for, yet so few achieve…”

The young boy nodded, his brow furrowing in concentration as he studied the scales before him. His tiny fingers brushed against the cool metal, and to his amazement, the scales began to sway gently, almost as if in response to his touch.

His eyes widened in astonishment, his gaze darting between the animated scales and his father.

"Papa! They’re moving!" Sebastian exclaimed, his voice tinged with excitement and wonder.

Syrus chuckled softly, his eyes twinkling with amusement. "Ah, yes... It seems the scales have a mind of their own!"

Sebastian watched in fascination as the scales continued their graceful dance, their movements fluid and rhythmic.

"But how?" he asked, his brow furrowing in confusion.

Syrus leaned forward, his expression serious yet gentle. "You see, son, everything in life is interconnected. Just as the scales respond to your touch, so too do our actions have consequences that ripple through the world around us."

He gestured toward the scales, his voice calm and reassuring.

"Think of these scales as a metaphor for life itself... Each decision we make, each action we take, tips the balance one way or the other."

Sebastian listened intently; his young mind eager to absorb his father's infinite wisdom.

"And just as the scales need to find equilibrium to remain steady," Syrus continued, "so too must we strive to find balance in all aspects of our lives… Finding harmony between our responsibilities and our desires, between our ambitions and our values."

The scales chimed in agreement, their movements slowing to a gentle sway as if to emphasise his words.

"But, Balance isn't about standing still, either," he explained, "it's about navigating the ebb and flow of life with grace and resilience. It's about being mindful of our choices and their impact on both ourselves and those around us."

Sebastian nodded, a sense of understanding dawning in his eyes. He reached out to touch the scales once more, feeling a newfound sense of reverence for their significance.

"And remember, Sebastian," Syrus said, his voice warm and encouraging as he held his son close, "finding balance is a lifelong journey. It's alright to stumble along the way, as long as we learn from our mistakes and continue to strive for harmony in all that we do…"

-

The first dustings of November snow had begun to fall over the thatched rooftops of Aranshire.

With sore, puffy eyes, she watched the soft flurries fall past the panes of glass as she clung to the soft blanket that enveloped her.

Leaning against the timber archway into the kitchen, Ominis skimmed over another page of braille as Anne watched over her with growing concern.

“I’ve never seen her like this before…” She sighed, leaning her head against her fiancé’s shoulder.

“Nor I,” Ominis murmured, continuing to flick through pages as he pressed a tender kiss against the crown of her head comfortingly.

“Have they fought like this before?” She asked.

“Every couple fights,” he shrugged, “even when we were at Hogwarts, they’d bicker and disagree on things… But they’ve never… Failed… to resolve an argument before.”

She hummed understandingly, giving his shoulder a supportive squeeze.

“Have you heard from him at all?” She whispered, watching another set of stinging tears trickle down her cheeks as she continued to gaze at the falling snow.

“He sent me a note a few days ago,” he nodded, “it was very brief… He said that he’d arrived safely and promised to explain all soon.”

“I’m surprised you didn’t send him a Howler the second we got here,” she chuckled half-heartedly. “Merlin, the state she was in after he left...”

“I think that’s why he got in there with the note first…” He smirked. “Jury’s still out on the Howler.”

As Ominis continued to flip through the pages of the journal, his brow furrowed in concentration. Anne watched him intently, her heart heavy with worry, before returning her attention to the kitchen to attend to the whistling kettle.

“Are you sure you won’t eat, dear?” She sighed, handing her a warm cup of tea before sinking onto the sofa beside her. “You’ve barely kept anything down this last week... You’re looking pale.”

Staring into the contents of her cup, she nodded softly to Anne.

“I’ve no appetite at the moment,” she croaked. “Tea is the only thing that helps.”

"I understand," Anne replied softly, reaching out to gently squeeze her hand. "I'm just worried about you... You need to keep up your strength."

She nodded weakly, her eyes clouded with fatigue and discomfort.

Anne could see the toll that this was taking on her, both physically and emotionally, and it pained her to see her suffering so.

"Perhaps just a few sips of tea then?" She suggested, her voice gentle yet firm. "We need to make sure you're staying hydrated."

With a weary nod, she lifted the cup to her lips, taking small, hesitant sips of the warm, herbal brew.

Anne watched with an aching sense of helplessness, wishing there was more she could do to ease her suffering…

Was this how Sebastian had felt when was so unwell?

She recognised that pained vacancy in her sister’s eyes; the bloodshot, glazed-over stare and the frown lines that she’d seen etched into Sebastian’s face so many times before. Anger and guilt panged through her chest as she rose to return to the kitchen.

“Why is he doing this?” She hissed irritably to Ominis, pacing between the iron range and the dining table. “He knows that she’ll be beside herself.”

“We both know that whatever she’s feeling right now, he’ll be feeling tenfold…” He sighed. “Although, I am worried about some of the symptoms she’s showing.”

“Oh?” She queried, busying herself to stop her fretting and beginning to mix a bowl of cream and honey together, adding a small dram of whiskey as she went.

“Mainly the nausea, paired with the aversion to everything we’ve offered her… But the sleeplessness worries me, too,” he murmured, his brow furrowing as his fingers traced over another page. “The one that really sticks out is her mood… She's never been so low for so long.”

“I agree, it’s not like her…” Anne hummed, adding the oats she’d baked that morning to the bowl in front of her. “What are you thinking?”

“I’m searching for something in particular that came up in a conversation at work last week…” He explained, before his finger finally settled on a particular paragraph.

“Aha!” He chirped, tapping the page triumphantly. “Melancholia… Severe changes in mood, appetite and sleeping patterns.”

“Merlin’s beard…” She gasped. “You think it’s that serious?”

“I’m beginning to fear so…” He nodded. “You said so yourself, she’s never been like this before.”

“So, what do we do?” She asked.

“My colleague is working on a potion to aid the symptoms,” he replied, packing the book back to his briefcase. “I’ll call in on him tomorrow and see how he's progressing. Until then, we’ll need to explore more holistic methods...”

“Such as?”

He paused, considering her question carefully.

"Such as finding ways to lift her spirits and nourish her body," he replied thoughtfully. "First and foremost, we'll need to try and get her to eat something."

Anne nodded in agreement.

"We could also try some muggle remedies to help her?" She suggested.

"That's a good idea," he agreed. “They've found that things like chamomile or ginger might help with the nausea, and perhaps lavender for relaxation…"

“Here,” Anne smiled, handing him a bowl of the sweet cranachan she'd made. “We’ll start with this.”

As the scent of raspberries, sweet cream and whiskey wafted through the air, something shifted within her.

Blinking slowly, she was pulled from the haze of her mind, her senses awakening to the comforting aroma filling the room. With a small nod of gratitude to Anne, she accepted the bowl placed into her hands, feeling the warmth of the creamy mixture seeping through her fingers.

They watched anxiously from their perch at the other end of the sofa, their eyes filled with concern as she took a first hesitant spoonful.

Almost immediately, she felt a sense of calm wash over her. The rich flavours danced across her palate, soothing the rumbling pangs of her stomach and bringing a fleeting sense of peace to her troubled mind.

With each mouthful, she felt herself sinking deeper into a comforting warmth spreading through her body, the tension in her shoulders easing as the sweetness of the dessert enveloped her senses.

As she looked up to meet the concerned faces of Anne and Ominis, the faintest hint of a smile flickered across her lips.

It was a small gesture, but to them, it was a triumph.

"This is divine," she whispered softly, her voice filled with gratitude and awe.

"Oh, thank Merlin," Anne gasped, her eyes shimmering with tears of joy as Ominis heaved a huge sigh of relief.

"Well," he smiled, "we've found something that stays down... I'd call that progress."

Anne nodded, her own smile mirroring his.

"We've been so worried, darling," she sighed, reaching out to rest a gentle, reassuring hand on her knee. "But seeing you manage to eat something... It's like a huge weight has been lifted from our hearts."

She looked up at them, her eyes filled with gratitude.

"Thank you both," she whispered. "For everything... I’m so sorry to have caused you all this worry."

"My dear, you have nothing to apologise for," Ominis soothed, his voice gentle and reassuring. "You've been through a huge shock, it's only natural that you're feeling this way... But please know that we're here for you, every step of the way."

Anne nodded in agreement, her expression filled with compassion and understanding.

"We love you," she said softly, squeezing her hand gently. "We’ll do whatever it takes to help you through this."

She smiled the first genuine smile she’d been able to muster for days, a sense of warmth spreading through her aching chest.

As she scraped the final traces of oats and cream from her bowl, she couldn't shake the overwhelming craving it had unleashed within her.

"Anne, could I trouble you for another serving?" she asked, her voice laced with a mixture of gratitude and longing.

"Of course, dear," she smiled warmly, heading towards the kitchen to fetch another bowl.

As she disappeared through the doorway, Ominis took the opportunity to check her over.

"How are you feeling?" he inquired gently as his fingers pressed against her pulse points.

She sighed softly, feeling a mix of agonising emotions swirling inside her.

"I'm... I'm alright," she answered, her voice tinged with sadness. "I miss him terribly."

Ominis nodded understandingly. "I know it's difficult," he murmured softly, offering a reassuring squeeze of her hand as he pressed his other palm to her forehead, checking for any signs of fever. “But there is normally some kind of method to his moronic choices.”

“I just… I don’t understand,” she sighed. “He never keeps secrets.”

“From you,” Ominis added with a soft chuckle. “He’s kept the rest of us in the dark on multiple occasions…”

“I thought we were past all that,” she hesitated. “I thought he’d turned over a new leaf.”

“We are,” Ominis encouraged, “and he has... Trust me, Sebastian isn’t that sixteen-year-old boy anymore. He’s a grown man, who would never dream of doing something like this unless he had an overwhelmingly compelling reason to.”

As Anne handed her another bowl, she nodded hesitantly, her mind still wrestling with doubts and uncertainties.

“So, you don’t think there’s…?” she began tentatively.

“Absolutely not,” they both interrupted, their voices firm and unwavering.

“He’s utterly devoted to you,” Ominis insisted. “Always has been, always will be. You’re the only woman he’s ever looked at.”

“Apart from that very fleeting fancy he took to Professor Garlick in third year,” Anne smirked.

“Before he discovered he was barking entirely up the wrong tree, of course…” Ominis chortled.

“He’s got a taste for redheads, evidently,” she quipped flatly, a small smile tugging at the corners of her lips despite the heaviness in her heart.

"Well, they say redheads have a certain... fiery charm," Ominis retorted with a grin, before his expression softened. "But you, my dear, have a spark that lights up his world like no other. You're his flame… His guiding light… And nothing could ever compare to the love he holds for you. Regardless as to what you’re feeling right now, you know that."

“I know… You’re right…” She hummed between pensive mouthfuls. “I just wish I understood what was happening… I hate to think of him out there alone, facing Merlin knows what.”

“Of course you do,” Ominis smiled, “because you love him.”

She nodded, her eyes glistening with unshed tears.

“Come now,” Ominis soothed softly, “no more tears... All will be well.”

“I’m sorry, Ominis,” she sniffled, tears spilling over. “I don’t know what’s come over me as of late… I woke up one day and I suddenly felt completely different.”

His brow furrowed in concern.

“Tell me more,” he instructed gently.

“It’s been like this for a few weeks,” she explained as Ominis handed her a handkerchief. “My body’s been… Changing. I’ve felt so much more sensitive to everything… I’m gaining weight out of nowhere, which is ridiculous because everything I so much as look at makes my stomach churn… I couldn’t even manage a glass of wine for Sebastian and Anne’s birthday!”

“So, this has been going on a while?” He asked, listening attentively.

She nodded.

“Anne, darling,” Ominis called to his fiancée, “would you be so kind as to run to Hogsmeade and grab some Shrivelfigs?”

“Of course,” she smiled, grabbing her coat.

“No, no need!” She interjected hurriedly, “Sebastian started growing them outside earlier in the year. We’ve got a basket of them in the pantry.”

“In which case, would you mind peeling and boiling some?” Ominis smiled to Anne, who nodded and disappeared back into the kitchen to scour the pantry, before he returned his attention to her.

“Do you still have some of that Lady’s Mantle I gave you?”

"Yes," she replied, her voice tinged with confusion. "We set aside a batch to see me through my next courses."

"Excellent," Ominis smiled, his mind racing with possibilities. "In that case, we can add some to the..."

Before he could finish his sentence, something she had mentioned caught his attention, causing him to pause mid-thought.

"Hold on," he frowned, his eyes narrowing in concern. "You mean to say that you haven't..."

"N-no," she murmured sheepishly. "But I figured it was because of the upheaval of everything, being in Egypt and..."

"So, let me make sure I understand," he said slowly. "You've been experiencing changes in taste, increased sensitivity, weight gain and nausea for the past few weeks?"

"Yes," she admitted, a sense of vulnerability washing over her.

Ominis's expression softened, a dawning realisation spreading across his features.

"And, to confirm, you haven't had your-"

"I couldn't find any Shrivelfigs in the pantry," Anne announced, returning from the kitchen and accidentally interrupting a surprisingly composed Ominis.

He paused; a short, stunned laugh escaping his lips.

"That's alright, my love," he smiled calmly. "We won't be needing them after all."

He turned his attention back to their patient, his expression gentle yet firm.

"I think it's time we took a trip to St. Mungo’s," he said, his voice filled with quiet determination as he helped her to her feet.

Her eyes widened in alarm.

"Y-you think there’s something more to this?” she began, her voice trembling.

Ominis nodded slowly, a warm smile spreading across his face.

"I think it's very possible," he said softly. "But we won't know for sure until we have a proper diagnosis..."

Chapter Text

He was jolted from a couple of hours of shallow sleep by a crack of thunder.

A rare storm had rolled in from Alexandria, rumbling over Cairo as he tossed and turned through the night.

The oppressive heat pressed against his skin like a damp cloth.

He sat up, his heart pounding, his breath ragged as he tried to shake off the remnants of yet another nightmare.

He’d been gone for a week, but it never stopped him from instinctively reaching for her every night.

He missed the sound of her soft breathing. He ached for the absent weight of her body nestled against his.

Outside, the tempest brewed; the wind howling like a banshee and rain pelting against the windowpanes. Sebastian found himself drawn to the tumultuous scene beyond, the chaos outside mirroring the turmoil within.

With a heavy sigh, he lay back down, closing his eyes in a futile attempt to find solace in sleep once more…

But the night offered no respite, only further torment.

In slumber, he found himself adrift on a vast and tumultuous ocean; waves crashing around him like angry giants. Above, the sky churned with dark clouds, illuminated by flashes of lightning that danced across the horizon like ghostly spectres.

His chest burned as his lungs screamed for air, each breath becoming more desperate than the last. Struggling against the relentless pull of the tides, Sebastian's limbs felt heavy as lead, his muscles protesting with every futile stroke…

But then, amidst the swirling chaos of the ocean, he caught sight of something shimmering in the murky depths below. At first, it was nothing more than a fleeting glimmer, a trick of the light dancing across the surface of the water…

As he strained his eyes, struggling to make sense of the dark and swirling shadows that surrounded him, the shimmer began to take shape. It was long and sinuous, moving with a fluid grace that seemed almost unnatural.

For a moment, Sebastian's heart stuttered in his chest as he realized what he was seeing… The unmistakable form of a mermaid; her tail slicing through the water like a blade through silk. She moved with a hypnotic rhythm, her movements captivating and alluring, even as Sebastian's instincts screamed at him to flee.

Then, with a sudden surge of movement, the siren reached for him; her hand outstretched in a silent invitation.

Sebastian's heart hammered in his chest as he hesitated, torn between the instinct to fight and the inexplicable allure of the creature before him…

Before he could decide, the darkness closed in around him, swallowing him whole as he was pulled deeper into the depths of the ocean, lulls of a haunting song echoing in his ears like a requiem.

“Long night?”

Sebastian's weary eyes met Aesop's as he stepped into the dimly lit chamber, his footsteps echoing softly against the tiled floor. The scent of strong coffee lingered in the air, mingling with the faint aroma of sandalwood incense.

Ever the picture of composure, Aesop took the seat adjacent to Sebastian near a small window, a steaming cup of coffee cradled in his hands. His knowing gaze seemed to pierce through the veil of exhaustion that clung to him like a second skin.

Sebastian offered a tight-lipped smile in response.

"You could say that.”

And as he reached for his own cup of coffee, the bitter taste of apprehension lingered on his tongue.

“It’s natural to be worried about her, you know…”

Sebastian's gaze flickered up from his coffee cup to meet Aesop's steady stare. There was a softness in his voice, a reassuring tone that seemed to cut through the thick fog of worry that clouded his mind.

“We’re Aurors," he continued. "We do our duty to protect people… But we’re not unfeeling.”

"I know," Sebastian murmured, his voice barely above a whisper. "But I can't shake the sense that I've left her… Vulnerable."

Aesop nodded, his expression thoughtful. A wistful smile tugged at the corners of his lips as he regarded Sebastian with a knowing look.

"We talk about her as if she isn't... Her," he chuckled. "We both know she could take on twice as many as we could and walk away with half the scars."

Sebastian laughed softly.

"That she could," he agreed, deep admiration colouring his voice.

"It's a shame she didn't pursue this path, too,” Aesop mused wistfully. "She and I discussed it often enough."

Sebastian nodded in agreement.

"What changed?" He queried softly.

A pang of remorse tightened in his chest.

"After what happened at Hogwarts... The duel with Ranrok... Spavin had other plans for her," he growled. 

"Being an Unspeakable is nothing to sneer at, Sebastian..." Aesop remarked, gently scolding.

"I know,” he replied hastily. “Far from it. She’s incredible.”

Aesop regarded his former pupil thoughtfully, his gaze steady and unwavering.

"It must be difficult, feeling shut out of an area of your spouse's life?" He mused.

Sebastian nodded in agreement, a heaviness settling in his chest as the events of his departure burned through his mind.

"Yes and no," he replied remorsefully. "We always knew it was going to be difficult to manage, but we've found a way to communicate… We always do."

"It brings me a great comfort to hear you say "we" when discussing personal matters," Aesop smiled sympathetically.

Sebastian's gaze fell lamentably into the dark swirls of his coffee cup.

"... Do you think there could've been a better way to communicate this to her?" he continued, his words hanging tenderly in the air.

Sebastian sighed, running a hand through his untamed locks.

"Yes," he admitted. "I should have been more honest with her... More open about Rookwood… I just… I couldn’t bear the thought of her caught up in all of this again.”

His voice faltered as he spoke. Memories flashed before his eyes: her tear-stained face, the whispered conversations in the dark shadows of the Undercroft, the sleepless nights they would spend wandering around the lake together, just talking… Processing.

Aesop nodded in understanding before a pensive silence fell over the two.

"Perhaps I'm not the best person to seek advice from on marital matters, Sebastian," Aesop finally admitted, finishing his final dregs of coffee, "but as I understand it, you're allowed to make mistakes. It's not about being the perfect partner, it’s about being a present partner, even when you’re apart. When things get difficult, as they inevitably will, it’s about how you reconnect and move forward together," he soothed. "It's never too late to start anew… Even in established relationships."

As Sebastian's lips curled into an appreciative smile to his mentor, the double doors to the main chamber swung open and they were greeted by both Ronen and the Grand Sorcerer.

“Gentlemen,” Al-Jadawi smiled, gesturing to his chambers, “shall we?”

As they settled into the Grand Sorcerer’s office, Sebastian and Sharp exchanged a knowing glance before launching into their explanation.

"We believe that the recent spate of British tomb-robbing incidents here in Egypt are linked to the pursuit of a particular artefact... The Ankh of Osiris," Sebastian began, his gaze flickering between his companions as he spoke. "The Ankh is said to hold great power, the key to life and death itself. And it seems that someone is willing to go to great lengths to get their hands on it."

The two native Egyptians present exchanged a look of concern at Sebastian's words.

"How did you come to know of the Ankh, my boy?" Ronen asked, his brow furrowed in curiosity.

Sebastian hesitated for a moment, his mind racing as he searched for the right words. "I... Don't know much about it, to be honest," he admitted. "All of my knowledge comes from a series of notes left in the journal of a former Curse Breaker...”

Al-Jadawi and Ronen exchanged another glance, their expressions reflecting a mixture of apprehension, respect and admiration.

"Sebastian, your dedication to this investigation is commendable," Al-Jadawi began, his tone measured yet warm. "But I want to assure you that the Ankh of Osiris is neither under an immediate threat, nor a threat within itself."

Sebastian’s brow furrowed in confusion as a comforting smile spread across the Grand Sorcerer’s kind face.

“Tell me, are you familiar with the story of Osiris?” He grinned.

Sebastian nodded, a glint of recognition in his eyes.

"Yes, I'm familiar with it," he replied, his voice tinged with curiosity. "The first ruler of Egypt, betrayed and slain by his brother, only to be resurrected by his devoted wife, becoming God of the Afterlife, no?"

"That’s the gist of it," Al-Jadawi chuckled with a nod. "And it's within this story that the Ankh of Osiris holds its significance."

Sebastian's interest was piqued.

"How so?" he inquired, leaning forward in his chair.

A knowing smile played at the corners of Al-Jadawi's lips as he rose from his own seat, gesturing for Sebastian to follow him.

"Come, my boy," he said, his voice tinged with excitement. "There's something I want to show you."

Chapter Text

“Merlin, it’s freezing out here,” she hissed through chattering teeth, burying her face into the thick, woollen scarf that clung around her neck.

“You’ve yet to experience a proper Scottish winter, then?” he smirked, turning back to offer her his hand as they continued up the side of the mountain. “I’d have thought your first year at Hogwarts would have set you up nicely for the next one.”

“I’ve no aversion to Scottish winters,” she retorted dryly, accepting his gloved hand as they traversed yet another boulder, “only having to assist you with your Astronomy assignments in the middle of one… Besides, I spent so much of last year running around the Highlands warding off attackers that I think I’m owed some level of comfort.”

“That you did, and that you are…” He nodded, chuckling softly, taking a moment to admire how the colour of her cheeks had come to match her hair. “Here,” he smiled, handing her a warm vial of something.

Reliant on the icy-blue hues of moonlight, her eyes squinted in an attempt to inspect the contents.

“Is this… Pepperup potion?” She hesitated.

“Even better,” Sebastian smirked, twisting the cork, “it’s mulled cider. Now, drink up, before you lose those lovely cheeks to frostbite.”

She sighed, taking a discreet swig as his attention returned to the path ahead.

“If you think flattery is going to keep me here,” she huffed, “you’re mistaken.”

“Darling…” He turned back, flashing her one of his infuriatingly irresistible grins. “We both know there’s no keeping you anywhere. You came entirely of your own free will, and you will stay entirely of your own free will.”

She groaned.

“Can we at least set up a campfire at the top to keep warm?”

“And ruin our view of the night sky?!” He tutted. “Professor Shah wouldn’t hear of it.”

“When have you ever been a stickler for following the rules?” She snorted. “I’m surprised you didn’t find a way out of even doing this task.”

“Perhaps I did?” He answered smugly. “Perhaps I turned in my Astronomy parchments last week, and simply wanted to take the Heroine of Hogwarts out for a late-night stroll and some stargazing?”

“Ah, so I’ve been led here under false pretences…” She frowned playfully. “In which case, I’m definitely leav-”

A panicked yelp escaped her lips as her feet gave way under a patch of ice. Braced for an impact with the cold, hard earth, her tensed body instantly softened when she felt a gentle warmth surrounding her.

His breath caught in his throat as he felt her softly pressed against him, their faces mere inches apart. Her wide eyes met his, and he could see the mix of surprise and something else, something he couldn’t quite place, dancing in her gaze.

“I’ve got you,” he soothed tenderly, his voice barely above a whisper as his heart thudded in his chest and his arms lingered longingly around her. “Are you alright?”

“I… I think so,” she stammered, her cheeks flushing an even deeper shade of red as her hands came to rest timidly on his firm chest. He felt the tiny tremors of her body as the space between them seemed to shrink.

“S-Seb, you’re…” Her voice faltered, trailing off into a whisper as she looked up at him, her beautiful eyes uncertainly darting over his features.

“… I’m what?” He replied softly, his gaze locked onto hers.

Their faces were so close that she could feel the warmth radiating from him. She could see the flicker of anticipation in his dark eyes. Her own lips parted slightly.

Her gaze flickered from his eyes to his lips.

“You’re… Really warm,” she whispered.

The unexpected comment broke his demeanour. His body began to shake as soft laughter bubbled out of him.

“Merlin, you are cold…” he grinned, wrapping his cloak around them both. “Come on, let’s get you up to the top quickly.”

As the tiniest flickers of a flame danced over a rather meagre collection of sticks, the two sixth years sat huddled in the warm emerald lining of his cloak as they counted off the constellations together.

“And so…” He mused in hushed tones, one eye squinted in concentration as his fingers traced the patterns in the night sky, “that must be Cetus.”

“The Sea Monster?”

“Or The Whale, depending on who you ask…’ He winked.

She gazed over him for a moment, a suspicious glint in her eye.

“How did you come to know so much about Astronomy?” She enquired. “I’d argue you know more about the night sky than Amit…”

“Oh, don’t tell him that, it’ll ruin his life.” Sebastian quipped with a coy smirk.

“And yet…” She continued, a wry smile flickering at her lips as their eyes met. “I’ve yet to see you at a single Astronomy Class.”

His eyebrows raised as his gaze flashed towards the heavens, pondering his response.

“Firstly, I treasure my sleep. Secondly, I don’t like spending my nights in the freezing cold…”

She chuckled at the irony of his reasons as he continued to ponder.

“But I suppose the primary factor is that I grew up under these skies, so I’ve already been taught everything there is to know about them.”

“By whom?” She smirked. “Don’t say yourself.”

“I would never be so conceited!” He gasped playfully, watching adoringly at the way her nose crinkled as she laughed. “No…” He continued after a brief respite, “My father taught me. He adored Astronomy.”

She nodded understandingly. A comfortable silence fell over the two as their eyes returned to the canopy of tiny lights that flickered on above their heads.

“Was that what he taught at Hogwarts?” She finally asked.

“No, no,” he smiled. “Ancient Runes.”

“So I suppose you also get all your linguistic skills from him, too?”

“You’d think,” he chuckled, “but mum was the polyglot… She taught Magical Theory.”

“As in…?”

“Fig’s class, yes.” He nodded, his expression softening as he gazed into the flickering firelight. “He was her successor.”

A smile tugged at the corners of his lips as he continued. “When we first arrived at Hogwarts, he invited Anne and I for tea… He told us that he understood how difficult it was for us, and he didn’t want us to feel any discomfort around the matter.”

She nodded, her gaze thoughtful. “He had a knack for taking vulnerable newcomers under his wing.”

“Apparently so,” he grinned. “I think you may well be his finest example.”

The fire crackled softly, its warmth a stark contrast to the cold that still lingered in the air. They sat in comfortable silence for a few moments, lost in their thoughts.

“You know, I somewhat envy you…” She mused. “With your parents…”

“Comforting words to say to an orphan,” he laughed.

“You knew them so well,” she continued. “Their passions, their work, their ambitions… They all radiate through you and Anne. You know exactly who you are and, most of all, the people who made you who you are...”

His gaze softened as it fell on her, a warm sparkle in his eyes as he nodded in understanding.

“It’s almost ironic, isn’t it?” He murmured. “That I know so much and you know so little.”

“It’s not that we’re estranged, or even distant…” She frowned. “They’re wonderful… But they’re so… Quiet.”

He watched in dismay as she slumped dejectedly.

“Sometimes, I feel like… An empty page,” she sighed, her gaze drifting to the flickering fire. “In a book that I’ve no idea how to read.”

Leaning closer, Sebastian's fingers dared to brush her cheek as he gently turned her head towards him. “How exciting,” he whispered softly, his breath mingling with hers.

She looked at him, a curious smile playing on her lips. “Exciting?”

“An empty page…” he began, his eyes alight with enthusiasm, “holds so much potential!” His hands cupped her cheeks with a touch both eager and tender. “The possibilities are infinite! And the discovery…”

He halted abruptly, his breath catching as he became acutely aware of the ice-cold tip of her nose pressed against his.

For a moment, the words died on his lips. His gaze locked with hers, the air between them charged with electrifying tension. The firelight danced in their eyes, illuminating the soft flush on her cheeks and the curious sparkle of her expression.

The silence stretched, filled with the unspoken acknowledgement of their closeness. Sebastian’s heart pounded. He could feel the warmth of her skin, the way her breath mingled with his…

“… And the discovery,” he finally finished, his voice a touch breathless, “is often the most thrilling part.”

Her eyes softened, a playful glint in her gaze.

“You make it sound like an adventure.”

“Isn’t it?” he murmured, his fingers still resting gently on her cheeks.

A smile tugged at her lips, the warmth of his words seeping into her.

“You’re-”

“I’m what, Speranza?” He purred tenderly, her name pouring from his lips like honey as he tenderly pressed the bridge of his nose to hers.

“You’re such a Sallow,” she teased, a playful grin dancing across her features.

“A Sallow, eh?” Sebastian’s eyes twinkled with mischief as he leaned in just a touch closer. “Not such a bad surname to have, I’d say. Rather charming, perhaps…”

Just as their lips were about to meet, a sudden, haunting cry pierced the stillness of the night.

They both jumped, their faces flushing with surprise. Sebastian's protective instincts kicked in immediately; he looked around, his gaze sharp and assessing.

“Dire Wolves,” he deduced. “They’re a lot worse than your average mongrel... We should get back, it’s not safe here.”

She nodded in anxious agreement. “Which is the safest path back to the castle?”

“No time for that,” he frowned. “Best to apparate as close as we can to the grounds.”

“But we haven’t…” She began, before the realisation dawned on her. “You taught yourself to apparate, didn’t you?”

His expression shifted to one of playful smugness. “Third year.”

“Of course,” she sighed, before grabbing onto his hand as they disappeared into the night.

-

“You were right to come in, Ominis,” chirped the warm tones of Percival Greystone, one of his colleagues from St. Mungo’s. “It would appear your suspicions were correct… My congratulations to you and Mrs. Sallow.”

Pregnant.

“Oh, no, Percy!” Ominis laughed awkwardly, “Anne and I are to wed next Spring... This,” he gestured tenderly to the petrified figure, gripping the edges of the bed, “is my sister-in-law… Sebastian’s wife.”

Percival's eyes widened with realization, and he quickly composed himself, though a faint blush coloured his cheeks.

“Ah! My apologies…” He coughed awkwardly, turning to address her. “Nonetheless, my congratulations still stand to yourself and Mr. Sallow.”

She was pregnant.

Her stunned silence stifled the air in the room.

Greystone shuffled his feet anxiously, still very self-conscious of his faux-pas minutes earlier, whilst Ominis’ mind whirred in pursuit of answers to the situation in front of him.

“I’ll, er… Look at some remedies we can prescribe you to aid with the nausea…” Greystone smiled uncomfortably, with a sheepish nod to the two as he departed.

The weight of the situation pressed heavily on both of them. The silence stretched, filled with the tension of unspoken fears.

It felt like an eternity before she finally managed to speak.

“This…” She croaked, the words grating against her throat, “This is a lot to take in.”

He took a deep breath.

“Darling sister,” he soothed in his soft-spoken lilt, “talk to me.”

“I... I don’t know where to begin,” she whimpered, her voice trembling. “This is all so… Overwhelming.”

Pulling up a chair, he took a seat beside her.

“I feel that I have to ask you…”

“We didn’t plan this,” she stammered, pre-empting his approach. “We… We were going to… One day… But this… It wasn’t…”

He nodded slowly.

“Both Muggle and Wizard kind have this dilemma.” Ominis’ voice was steady, filled with a gentle determination. He took her cold hand in his own, his thumb brushing reassuringly over her knuckles. “It’s understandable that you’re overwhelmed. This is a lot to process, and the timing couldn’t be more difficult…”

“This wasn’t supposed to happen now,” she wept, tears finally pouring down her sullen cheeks in a huge release. “I don’t know where he is, or if he’s ever coming back…”

“He will,” he soothed.

“What if he doesn’t?! I-I can’t do this alone, Ominis…”

“You’re not alone,” he assured her. “I can’t promise you that everything will be easy, but I can promise you that you’re not alone. You have a family who loves you and will support you through this. Anne and I will be here every step of the way… And I know he will be, too.”

Wiping tears from her eyes, he continued softly, “The Wizarding world, like the Muggle world, faces unexpected challenges… And while it can be daunting, we have resources and options available to us. You have choices, and we’ll explore them together.”

She took a shaky breath, her gaze steadying slightly. “I just… I’m afraid of making the wrong decisions. Everything feels so uncertain.”

Ominis gave her a reassuring smile. “You’re allowed to feel afraid. It’s a natural response to uncertainty…”

He leaned closer; his voice soft but firm. “This… The situation, whilst unexpected, is also a miracle, you know. A new life is something extraordinary, something to be cherished… Even amid this chaos, there’s beauty and potential in what’s to come.”

Pressing a hand tenderly to her abdomen, she sighed, running her thumb affectionately over the beginnings of a small swelling.

Her thoughts turned to spring; his hand resting on the curve of her lower back as his fingers traced over her swollen belly… His lips pressed to her skin as he whispered to their child.

“My, how beautiful your mama is, little one,” he’d smile, his cognac eyes, filled with the excitement of fatherhood, flickering up to meet hers. “If only you could see how she glows whilst she carries you...”

Warm rays of summer sun pierced through the fog of her mind, bringing with them the images of warm, shining eyes staring up at her… The first traces of freckles dotted over a tiny nose and soft, chubby cheeks, pressed tenderly against his broad chest as he held them both close…

“Oh, little one…” She sighed aloud, an almost-smile flickering at her lips, “you really are a Sallow, through and through.”

A soft laugh escaped Ominis. “I couldn’t think of a better way to put it.”

As quiet assurance began to creep slowly back into her features, she squeezed Ominis’ hand.

“It’s not such a bad surname to have, really…” She smiled, her hand resting on her stomach as he held the door open for her and they stepped through the enchanted entryway into the cool November air that hung over London. Their arms linked; they began a slow stroll along the cobbled stone streets back towards Diagon Alley.

“I suppose not, Mrs. Sallow,” Ominis smirked. “Now, a few ground rules… No seafood, no raw eggs, no travelling by portkey…”

“When have you ever known me to partake in any of those things, Mr. Sallow?” She laughed, “You know that portkeys turn my stomach, even withou-”

Before she could finish her sentence, she felt a gloved hand press over her mouth as they were both engulfed in a cloud of suffocating black smoke.

Chapter Text

With eager strides, Sebastian followed Al-Jadawi through the corridors of the Embassy, their footsteps echoing in the silence of the ancient building. They soon arrived at a dark, imposing chamber, where a statue of Osiris stood sentinel at its centre.

Al-Jadawi approached the statue, placing his hand upon its weathered surface. With a whispered incantation, the air around them shimmered and danced and Sebastian watched in awe as the statue began to glow with an ethereal light. His eyes widened in wonder as the solid stone began to ripple and warp in front of him.

With a soft grinding sound, the surface cracked and split apart, revealing the intricate design hidden within… He saw a familiar basin taking shape, its surface shimmering with an ethereal glow as it rose from the depths of the stone.

The room fell silent as the Pensieve settled into place, suspended in mid-air above the now-repaired stone floor, hovering reverently at the feet of Osiris.

“I take it you know what this is?” Al-Jadawi grinned, inviting Sebastian to step forward.

“Yes,” he smiled, casting his eyes over the hieroglyphs carved into the basin.

Al-Jadawi nodded, a glint of admiration in his eyes.

"Impressive," he remarked, "not everyone is familiar with such artefacts."

Sebastian smirked, a hint of pride colouring his features.

"This isn’t my first encounter with one."

As he approached the Pensieve, Sebastian reached out to touch its smooth surface, feeling the cool stone beneath his fingertips.

"It's beautiful," he gasped.

Al-Jadawi smiled, his gaze fixed on the younger man. "Take your time," he whispered, stepping back towards the doorway.

Sebastian nodded, stepping forward to gaze into the depths of the silvery waters...

With a deep breath, he submerged his head, feeling the cool embrace of the memories enveloping him.

Instantly, he was transported into a realm of swirling images and fragmented recollections. A soft waft of incense awoke him with a jolt to his new surroundings; he found himself a silent observer amid a lavish party in full swing. The air was buzzing with excitement and revelry as guests mingled, their laughter and chatter filling the room.

Amidst the festivities, Sebastian's attention was drawn to a dark, statuesque figure standing at the centre of the room, a gleam of malice in his eyes.

With a flourish, he presented a large, ornate box to the partygoers, its intricate, golden carvings shimmering in the flickering torchlight.

"My friends!" he called out, his voice ringing clear above the din of the crowd. "Behold, the challenge of the evening!"

The guests murmured in intrigue as their host gestured to the box, a sly grin spreading across his lips.

"I invite each of you to try and fit inside this box," he declared. "And to the one who can fit perfectly inside, I offer a prize beyond measure!"

The room erupted into cheers as the guests eagerly stepped forward, each vying for the chance to win.

Sebastian watched with fascination as they attempted to contort themselves to fit inside the box, their efforts met with a mixture of sympathetic laughter and admirable applause.

As the night wore on and the challenge continued, Sebastian couldn't shake the feeling of unease that settled in the pit of his stomach… There was something ominous about this game, a sense of foreboding that lingered in the air.

His eyes widened as he watched another figure step forward, his radiant, towering figure commanding the attention of the entire room.

He approached the box, his movements confident and assured.

Without hesitation, he gracefully lowered himself in, his form disappearing within its confines with surprising ease. The crowd erupted into cheers and applause, marvelling at the remarkable feat…

But as the excitement began to wane, a shadow fell over the room as the host approached the box once more… Sebastian's heart quickened as he watched his expression darken, a sinister gleam in his eyes. With a swift motion, the box was sealed shut, the sound of the locks clicking bringing an instant, horrified silence to the room.

"Behold, the great Osiris, trapped within the confines of his own tomb!" the figure roared. "And now, to the river with him!"

Before anyone could react, he hurled the box into the raging waters of the river Nile.

Sebastian's heart sank as he watched it disappear beneath the waves, swallowed by the river's depths.

As screams of horror erupted around him, a dark shroud fell over him, pulling him back into the swirling memories of the Pensieve…

He landed with a gentle thud in the soft marshlands beside the river. As the moon cast its silver glow upon the tranquil surface, a lone figure knelt among the nearby reeds, her silhouette illuminated by the soft light.

She plunged her hands into the murky waters; her fingers brushing against a cold, lifeless form.

Tears welled in her eyes as she gazed upon her husband’s body, pulling him from the river and cradling him in her arms with tender reverence. With a whispered prayer upon her lips, her tears flowed freely, cascading down her cheeks and onto his gaunt, sullen features.

“There is word from the Atlanteans,” came the faint echoes of a voice that pulled Sebastian’s attention from the scene.

Turning to identify it, the canvas dissolved around him; the blue hues of the full moon now warmed by the glows of torchlight adorning the dark, grandiose chamber he now found himself in.

An imposing, jackal-headed creature spoke tenderly to the same grief-stricken woman, now heavily pregnant, stood beside the altar upon which the bandaged corpse of her lover lay.

“What news from the Nile?” she replied softly, her eyes fixated upon the amulets she continued to lay across his body.

“The search for the final piece of him continues,” he stated remorsefully, “but they bring you this…”

The jackal reached for her open hand, pressing into it an ornate stone carved into the shape of an ankh.

“They have heard your cries,” he whispered comfortingly, “and when your tears poured into the river, they created this, so that you may always have him by your side…”

Turning the stone over in her hands, her fingers traced over the inscriptions that lay meticulously carved into its smooth surface.

“Your heart need only ask for him,” the jackal concluded, placing his hand comfortingly on her shoulder before bowing reverently to the body that lay before them and quietly departing.

Watching as she knelt in front of the altar, Sebastian's senses began to blur as her muffled incantations slowly faded into a silvery haze. Feeling his body being pulled toward the heavens, he gasped aloud as his head resurfaced from the Pensieve’s waters.

“Godric’s heart,” he choked, struggling to recapture his breath, “you really can resurrect the dead, can’t you?”

Tilting his head tenderly, Al Jadawi’s lips tightened into an empathetic half-smile.

“Nothing can return the departed to this world, my boy,” he sighed. “Not even Osiris could return…”

Sebastian’s brow furrowed in confusion.

 “But, the…”

“The ankh wields a great power,” he nodded affirmingly. “Of that there is no doubt. It was forged from the banks of the life-giving river…”

“With the power to bring back the dead…” Sebastian murmured, finishing Al-Jadawi’s sentence as the realisation dawned upon him. “Except it didn’t, did it? Because even when the deceased returned, it was as though there was a veil between them…”

The elder sorcerer nodded, a mixture of relief and pride spreading across his features.

“And so, death took the brother for his own…” Sebastian sighed. “It’s the same story.”

“Not exactly,” Al-Jadawi smiled knowingly. “We don’t rely on fairy tales to recall our history,” he chuckled.

A disheartened smile faltered at the corner of Sebastian’s mouth. His gaze drifted back to the Pensieve, the visions vivid in his mind as he felt a warm, comforting hand on his shoulder.

“It grants communication,” Al-Jadawi sighed, “but not revival. Not even the Ancient Magic of the Atlanteans could grant that.”

“The Atlanteans?” Sebastian frowned, turning to face the elder wizard, who nodded.

“After the fall of Atlantis,” he began, “they sought refuge with neighbouring kingdoms. Osiris took kindly to them, granting them shelter in the life-giving waters of the Nile.”

“So…” Sebastian faltered in disbelief, “There are… Mermaids in the Nile?”
“There were mermaids in the Nile,” Al-Jadawi corrected. “Many, many thousands of years ago... After Set ascended to the Throne, he attempted to drive them out of Egypt. They were never seen by human eyes again.”

Sebastian’s frown deepened as he processed everything. “But they created the Ankh?”

“From Isis’ tears,” he nodded solemnly. “It’s a profound gift, truly… One that offers solace rather than a miracle.”

Sebastian nodded. “So, the Ankh's power was always intended to be a conduit for communication, not a means to defy death?”

“Precisely, my boy.” Al-Jadawi grinned. “And so, you see, it can do your wrongdoers no good.”

Sebastian’s frown lifted into a mixture of relief and resolve.

“Their quest was in vain from the start...” The elder wizard continued. “Their intentions were misguided, driven by legends and misconceptions…”

“Then we must keep it that way,” Sebastian nodded. “Do you have any idea as to its whereabouts now? If we can lure them to it, we can apprehend them…”

“Oh, my dear boy…” Al-Jadawi laughed, placing his hand on Sebastian’s shoulder. With a flick of his wrist, the Pensieve began to slowly dissolve; its contents pooling onto the stone tiling at Osiris’ feet before being absorbed back into the ground. To Sebastian’s shock, the tiles began to jolt, folding in on themselves to create a stone staircase that spiralled into the depths below.

“After you, my friend,” the elder Egyptian smiled, gesturing to the first step encouragingly.

With a hesitant nod, Sebastian began the cautious descent into whatever lay ahead of him.

-

Illuminated by the cool glows of wand light, Sebastian’s eyes flickered over the reflections of golden artefacts that they continued to pass by. He scanned the immaculately engraved hieroglyphics…

Something about Osiris…

The Du’at…

Field of… Grass? No. Reeds…

Rules, or Laws? of Ma’at…

… The Devourer? Sounds ominous...

It felt as though they had been walking for hours.

“I should warn you, Mr. Sallow,” Al-Jadawi shrugged, “the likelihood of your being granted access to the Ankh’s holding chamber is… Non-existent.”

Sebastian frowned.

“Go on,” he hummed curiously, holding his glowing wand ahead.

“The last soul to be granted access was a Pharaoh,” the Grand Sorcerer sighed remorsefully as they continued down into the catacombs. “Allegedly of a different blood… Almost drove Egypt into ruin…”

“Different blood?” Sebastian queried, his thoughts alight with embers of theories that flickered through his mind. “You don’t mean-”

“He wielded a great, ancient power,” he continued, interrupting Sebastian. “Driven mad by it, in the end… Left a tarnished legacy and an unstable heir. The entire dynasty was lost to the sands…”

Coming to an abrupt halt, Al-Jadawi turned to face Sebastian.

“We don’t speak his name here,” he warned, as all the warmth drained from his aged face. “A name has the power to recall, and he must remain both powerless and forgotten.”

Sebastian nodded in understanding; his eyes locked onto Al-Jadawi’s.

“Which is it?” He replied. “Do you fear the power, or the man?”

“Neither,” he retorted. “The man is long dead, and the power long extinct…”

Their heads turned sharply as the stone walls began to grind and shift, forming an archway, which appeared to take the elder sorcerer by surprise.

“It is what any power can do to a man that I fear most,” he stated, gesturing to Sebastian to lead on.

Hesitantly stepping into the further unknown, Sebastian paused.

“I know that fear like an old friend,” he sighed, glancing sympathetically at his companion before continuing.

Their path eventually opened into a vast subterranean chamber, its ceiling lost in darkness and its walls lined with the faded, haunting visages of long-departed deities. At the far end of the chamber, a grand, intricately carved door stood, adorned with symbols of protection and warding.

Al-Jadawi paused before the door, his expression a mix of reverence and caution.

“We’ve reached the final threshold,” he whispered. “Beyond this door lies the resting place of the Ankh… Its power has been contained for millennia, shielded from those who would misuse it.”

Sebastian approached the door, his heart pounding as his eyes scanned the hieroglyphics.

“I fear this is where our journey must end, Mr. Sa-” Al-Jadawi began, before the creaking hinges of the ancient doorway startled them both into silence as it slowly swung open.

Beyond the door lay a cavernous chamber, illuminated by an ethereal glow that seemed to emanate from an unseen source. The air was cooler here, filled with solemnity and anticipation. At the centre of the chamber, upon a raised pedestal, rested the Ankh—its intricate carvings shimmering with a soft, inviting light.

Al-Jadawi’s eyes widened with awe as he took in the sight.

“The Ankh of Osiris…” he breathed; his voice thick with reverence.

“Merlin’s beard,” Sebastian gasped.

“To be the first to see it, after all these millennia…”

A soft, singular tear trickled down the elder wizard’s faded cheek.

Sebastian stepped forward; his awe tempered by the gravity of the moment. Both he and the chamber seemed to hold their breath as the golden shimmers of an ancient scale appeared before him, obstructing his pathway to the Ankh.

“Grand Sorcerer,” he breathed, “what is this?”

Stepping forward to assess the conjuration, he nodded slowly as he turned to Sebastian.

“It is a trial,” he stated. “Your heart must be weighed.”

“My… Heart?” Sebastian frowned, his arm shielding his chest.

“Not a literal heart-weighing, my boy,” Al-Jadawi smiled. “You’re far too alive for that…”

Despite the gravity of the situation, his smile held a light warmth that deeply reassured the younger wizard.

“It is a symbolic test,” he explained. “This ancient scale represents the heart-weighing ceremony overseen by Osiris to grant access to the Field of Reeds… Your heart must be weighed against the feather of Ma’at...”

Sebastian’s gaze remained fixed on the scale, its golden arms gleaming softly in the dim light.

“If your heart is in balance with the feather, you will be allowed access to the Ankh.”

With a steadying breath, he cautiously approached.

“Here goes nothing,” he sighed reluctantly, closing his eyes as he came to stand in front of the towering visage.

He gasped aloud as he felt a force pierce his chest, knocking all the air from his lungs as his head rolled back and his consciousness tumbled into a dark fog. Through the ebbing and flowing darkness that engulfed his senses, he saw faint outlines and bright lights; he heard the bubbling laughter of his infant sister and the soothing whispers of his mother. With a turn of his head, he was surrounded by the laughter of children at play, bathed in the light of a late autumn evening…

A sudden, shooting pain in his chest caused him to yelp out, hunching over to clutch at the skin covering his heart as the sounds of screaming rang around his ears…

Darkness shrouded him as he heard his own pleas.

“Wake up, Mama… Please, wake up.”

Another aching pang shot through him as he heard the whimpering cries of his sister and a faint, red glow began to pierce through the fog…

Staggering to his feet, he lurched slowly forward, wafting the smoke away to reveal the source of light in front of him.

His blood turned to ice as the fog cleared to reveal the familiar miniature pyramid hovering in front of him. A hissing of malicious whispers and incantations hazed his senses as he struggled in his attempts to regain clarity.

“Crucio!”

He winced as her tortured screams haunted him once again, sending another agonising tear through his heart.

“Sebastian, please…”

“This could be the cure!”

“We don’t know what it’s capable of…”

A blinding flash of blood-red light shot out from the Relic, momentarily blinding him.

“I have to do this…”

He yelped out in pain as the hand that covered his chest began to involuntarily reach for the pulsating Relic, gravitating towards him.

“No…” He hissed, clawing at his outstretched hand, attempting to pull it back.

“Imperio!”

“Your father would be ashamed…”

Bright flashes of green continued to assault his vision as the hissing voices that circled his ears began to seep into his mind.

“Avada Ked-”

“NO!” He roared, using the last of his strength to tear through the mist, causing the visage to dissolve as his body hit the ground and the voices dispersed.

“I’ll stop…”

“I’ll stop.”

Still shrouded in darkness, he grunted as a soft, warm light dissolved the mist and tenderly illuminated his face. He shakily rose to his feet, looking towards the source.

His aching chest began to warm as familiar traces of lavender wafted through the air, accompanied by the scent of lotus flowers blooming in the fresh, running water that appeared around his ankles.

As he waded slowly forward into the light, flickers of copper and gold danced in the air as her figure came to life before his eyes. Emerging from the shimmers of light on the water’s surface, her footsteps fell in time with his and tears flickered in his eyes as he took in the sight of her; the heather in her hair, the rose-tinted satin dress that he knew all too well…

“Your brilliance and kindness have illuminated my darkest moments…”

As he reached for her to pull her into his arms, the air was filled with a harmonious blend of their voices.

“From our first encounter, your spirit captivated me… Your intelligence, your resilience, and your heart...”

“I vow to cherish and honour you as my partner, my confidante and my greatest friend…”

“I vow to stand beside you, navigating life’s trials and triumphs with you…”

“With you, I’ve learned the true meaning of forgiveness, strength, and love…”

“In you, I have found my equal, my partner, and my muse…”

Flurries of emerald green and cobalt blue robes flickered around his peripheral vision as his eyes met hers.

“Seems I may have met a kindred spirit!”

“I’ve had a feeling about you since that first day…”

“Come home,” the vision of her pleaded to him in a soft whisper.

“I’m coming home,” he whispered back, “I promise, sweet heart… Wait for me.”

With a resounding click of the mechanics, the scales reached their verdict.

He awoke with a jolt, his back aching from the impact with the hard ground under him.

Coming to his refreshed senses, he noticed Al-Jadawi’s extended hand reaching towards him.

“It would appear that you’ve made some friends in high places, my boy…” He smiled.

Helped to his feet, Sebastian nodded in thanks before turning his attention to the near-perfect balance of the scales that towered over him. A flicker of a frown crossed his features as the pans rocked tenderly to and fro.

“Balanced…” He hummed, eyeing the conjuration of the beating heart that still thudded in his chest, “Yet, a little too heavy for my liking.”

“Such is the beauty of youth,” Al-Jadawi chuckled softly, placing a comforting hand on his shoulder. “You have many years ahead of you to… Lighten that load.”

His kind eyes scanned the young, freckled face beside him.

“Why,” he mused, “you must be a man of… No more than…”

“Nineteen,” Sebastian answered, smiling appreciatively.

“By the will of Imhotep…” Al-Jadawi laughed, a wide grin spreading across his face, “He was still sketching lines in the sand at your age!”

“He and I both,” he smirked, a soft laugh rippling through his chest.

“Built the first pyramid at twenty-eight,” Al-Jadawi countered warmly. “Designed these scales at thirty-two…” He nodded affirmingly to Sebastian. “You have time.”

“Imhotep created this trial?” Sebastian queried softly, his eyes scanning the immaculate mechanisms admirably.

“It is the greatest secret of our kind…” Al-Jadawi retorted, “It can only have been protected by Imhotep.”

A wry smile crept across Sebastian’s face.

“You’ll find that I’m very good at keeping secrets, Grand Sorcerer…”

He nodded.

“See to it that I do find that…”

As the scales slowly dissolved before their eyes, his focus returned to Sebastian.

“I should hate to have to obliviate such a promising young mind.”

Sebastian’s laughter ricocheted through the chamber.

“Now, now…” he tittered warmly to the smiling elder, “There’s no need for threats.”

He gestured to the empty space where the scales had hung.

“Balanced, remember? I’ll take this to my sarcophagus.”

A tender chortle shook the elder’s shoulders.

“I suppose I should thank you,” he hummed, his gaze falling over the Ankh, still glowing invitingly to the pair as they approached it. “I’ve no idea how… Or why… But somehow, you’ve gained an Atlantean blessing.”

Sebastian frowned.

“Is that some sort of… Prerequisite?” He queried.

“Without one, we’d never have been granted access,” Al-Jadawi replied. “Many a Grand Sorcerer before me has stood in that very doorway,” he gestured to the stone archway behind them, “and never been privy to what lay behind it…”

His attention returned to the Ankh, a bittersweet smile tugging at his lips.

“When I was sworn into Office, I took a vow to protect this artefact…” He sighed. “Though my eyes may never behold it, I vow to defend it with my life. To guard its secrets with my silence, knowing that it is not for me to understand, but only to protect...”

Sebastian nodded admirably.

“My father once told me that the mark of true intelligence was accepting how little you truly know,” he stated with a soft shrug. “I couldn’t understand what he meant for so long… I absorbed every scrap of information I could find, determined to prove him wrong…”

His dark eyes shone with bright, silvery hues in the light of the Ankh.

“The more I learn, the more I realise how right he was,” he murmured with a reluctant laugh.

Al-Jadawi’s gaze softened sympathetically as he turned to look at him.

“Your father is a very intelligent man,” he smiled.

“Was a very intelligent man,” Sebastian corrected. “He died when I was a boy... As did my mother.”

A pained silence fell over the pair.

“My sincerest apologies,” Al-Jadawi whispered, as Sebastian shook his head.

“It’s alright,” he murmured softly. “You didn’t know.”

The elder’s gaze deepened as he examined the young man in front of him.

Upon his arrival in Egypt, he’d noticed, and indeed admired, many of the features he’d observed at first glance; the assured grin that danced over his youthful freckles, his poised conduct with the occasional betrayals of an overly-confident swagger in his step, his command of what appeared to be a multitude of languages…

But he had always been shielding something.

Much to his embarrassment, it had taken him until now to recognise the dark shadows of grief dancing in the boy’s eyes.

He felt his pain seep into the air, thick and palpable, as if the very essence of loss lingered in the room, intertwining with the echoes of an eternity of ancient sorrows that ricocheted through the chamber.

“Balanced, yet a little too heavy for your liking, eh?” He mused lightly.

A reluctant smile flickered at the corners of Sebastian’s mouth in affirmation.

“May I ask…” He began hesitantly, his voice filled with genuine curiosity, his eyes searching Sebastian’s, “If you saw them just now?”

He took a moment to collect his thoughts.

“No,” he replied, his voice barely above a whisper. “I didn’t see them…”

That familiar sting panged through his chest.

“I haven’t seen them in a long time.”

Al-Jadawi’s expression softened further, an understanding glimmering in his wise eyes.

“Would you like to?”

Sebastian’s breath caught in his throat.

“H-here? Now?” His voice trembled, disbelief and longing battling for dominance.

As Al-Jadawi nodded to him, he stepped closer, drawn to the artefact like a moth to a flame…

“This is about that Relic they were looking for, isn’t it?”

“Sebastian, please, leave the Relic alone… We can find another way to help Anne...”

“It always comes back to that, doesn’t it?

“I’m scared of what it’s doing to you…”

The blood-red light flashed before his eyes again.

“I’m scared that history is going to repeat itself…”

He stopped abruptly, a chill racing through his entire body just as he was about to reach for the Ankh.

His panicked eyes darted toward it, its luminescence pulsating softly, as if attuned to his very heartbeat. He could feel its pull… the magnetic force that spoke of possibilities beyond his imagination…

His fingers trembled against its cool surface…

That now felt like a double-edged sword.

“Sebastian?” Al-Jadawi’s voice pierced through his turmoil, pulling him back from the abyss of his thoughts. The elder’s expression was one of concern, his eyes keenly observing the younger man’s struggle.

Sebastian took a deep breath.

“What if this is just the beginning?” he murmured, the words slipping from his lips before he could catch them as he stumbled back from the Ankh. “I can’t… I can’t go back there. I can’t let this… I-I won’t let this…”

Al-Jadawi’s brow furrowed slightly, watching the young man struggle to regain his composure.

“I can’t…” Sebastian whispered reluctantly, taking slow steps away. “It’s not why I came here…”

His breath rattled as his eyes squeezed shut.

“I don’t want to chase shadows,” he admitted, his voice breaking slightly. “I don’t want to lose myself in another obsession... I can’t go through that again.”

Al-Jadawi stepped closer, placing a reassuring hand on Sebastian’s shoulder.

“Then don’t,” he whispered. “Let love guide you.”

Sebastian opened his eyes, searching Al-Jadawi’s face for reassurance.

“I love them so much,” he whispered. “I always have, and I always will… But it’s because of that love that I can’t do this...”

Tears welled in his eyes.

“I can’t say goodbye to them again,” he whispered.

Al-Jadawi nodded, his expression solemn but resolute as his eyes reflected a deep, pained understanding.

“I’ve already lost so much…” Sebastian whimpered. “And I could’ve lost so much more… But if I do this... If I give in to this Relic… Then I really will have lost everything I’ve worked to redeem myself from.”

Taking another deep breath, he closed his eyes.

He imagined his parents’ faces… Their warmth, their laughter… Their love.

It was that love that had spurred him on to pursue knowledge and mastery over magic, yet it had also been the source of his greatest pain.

“Would they want me to sacrifice my future for a fleeting moment with them?” he wondered aloud, voice barely above a whisper.

Al-Jadawi’s gaze lifted from him, his eyes illuminated by a bright light emanating from behind them both.

“Perhaps…” He mused, clearing his throat, “You should ask them yourself.”

As he went to query his words, a soft breeze swept through the chamber, filling the air with an inexplicable energy. Sebastian felt the temperature drop, a chill dancing across his skin as the atmosphere shifted.

The elder wizard simply nodded for Sebastian to turn around.

When he did, his heart skipped a beat.

“Sebastian?”

His mother’s voice was like music, familiar yet haunting, exactly as he remembered it.

She reached out, her hand warm and comforting as it brushed faintly against his cheek.

“M-mother?”

The tears that had welled in his eyes cascaded down his cheeks; the floodgates opening into gushing sobs as he clung to the visage of her.

“Mother… Father… Oh, Merlin…” he wept, as his father placed a protective arm around him.

“It’s alright, son,” he soothed.

Wiping the tears from his eyes, his mother cupped his cheeks tenderly.

“Merlin, you’ve grown,” she beamed, glancing between her son and her husband. “You look just like your father.”

“You’ve grown so strong, too,” his father nodded, pride shimmering in his eyes. “Your journey has been so arduous, but you’ve persevered through everything… We’re so proud of you.”

Sebastian’s heart swelled with love and pain, a fresh set of tears stinging his eyes.

“But I’ve… Made such horrible mistakes, Papa…”

His mother’s smile faded slightly, replaced by a look of compassion.

“We know, darling,” she whispered. “You’ve spent all these years searching for answers, for closure…”

“For forgiveness…” His father continued. “But you’re not defined by the past, my boy…”

“Look at you,” she beamed, her thumbs tracing his freckled cheeks. “Look at the incredible life you’re building for yourself… Look at what you did for Anne!”

“We never doubted you for a second, son.” His father beamed.

“But… What do I do now?” he asked, his voice cracking.

“Live,” his father said simply. “Live for us, for yourself, and for those you love.”

“And what an incredible life you’re going to live, Sebastian…” His mother smiled, tears welling in her eyes. “We’ll be right there beside you, even if you can’t see us.”

As the warmth of their presence enveloped him, Sebastian felt a profound sense of peace settle within, accompanied by a sudden twinge of confusion.

“I- I don’t understand…” Sebastian croaked softly, still nestled in his parents' loving hold, “I didn’t use the Ankh…”

“Perhaps,” Al-Jadawi shrugged softly, clearing his throat as tears danced in his own eyes, “this was just meant to be.”

Turning his attention back to the fading images of his parents, he squeezed them close one more time.

“I love you,” he whispered, his heart swelling with gratitude. “I’ll always love you.”

“We know, my darling,” his mother replied, pressing a tender kiss to his forehead. “We love you too…”

“And we always will,” his father soothed, pulling him into a tight embrace as they slowly faded away.

As Sebastian continued to stifle his sobs, now alone, Al-Jadawi approached him cautiously… His palm came to rest softly on Sebastian’s hunched back.

“Let your tears flow, friend,” he soothed tenderly in Arabic. “Let them flow into a river… Let every drop tell a story.”

He nodded appreciatively.

“Thank you, friend.”

As he wiped away the last remaining tears, the elder wizard nodded warmly to him.

“Won’t you stay for the evening?” He asked. “It would be my honour to host you.”

“You’re too kind, Grand Sorcerer,” Sebastian smiled. “The honour would truly be all mine, but after that, I hope you can understand that I’m incredibly anxious to return to my family.”

A tender smile stretched across Al-Jadawi’s face.

“Of course, my friend... Let’s get you home.”

-

Rounding the corner back into the Grand Sorcerer’s office, Sebastian was surprised at the greeting he received; a pale-faced Sharp, accompanied by two Aurors he recognised vaguely from the Office.

“H-Hastings?” Sebastian hesitated, frowning at the gentleman closest to him. “Bramwell? What can I do for you, gentlemen?”

“Ah! Welcome back, Sallow…” Hastings nodded, “care to enlighten us as to why we had to track you to Egypt of all places?”

Sharing a cautious glance with Al-Jadawi, Sebastian stepped toward his colleagues.

“Personal matters,” he shrugged. “Nothing that need concern the Ministry... My wife and I simply… Left something here on our travels.”

“I’m afraid that’s what brings us here, Sallow,” Bramwell stated apologetically. “Personal matters.”

Sebastian frowned as both two Aurors hesitated to be the one to break the news to him.

“Sebastian…” Sharp began, clearing his throat as he rose from his seat, casting him a pained gaze. “She was abducted from outside St. Mungo’s…”

His blood froze.

“As was your friend, Ominis.”

His throat tightened as the words tried, and failed multiple times, to form on his lips.

“Take a seat, Sebastian,” Sharp soothed, reaching for his arm, “this is a shock…”

“Why was she at St. Mungo’s?” He croaked, beginning to pace frantically. “Is-is she hurt? What’s happened?”

Sharp turned to the Aurors pleadingly for further answers.

“We- we have no idea,” Bramwell mumbled feebly. “All we know is, she’s been abducted by a group of Dark Wizards with ties to strange activities going on outside of Feldcroft…”

He snapped out of his pacing in an instant.

“Feldcroft?!” he repeated, “Why on earth would anyone be there? The Hamlet’s been silent since…”

“She dealt with Ranrok,” Sharp concluded.

“There’s been some sporadic hums of trouble in the area as of late,” Hastings admitted. “Nothing particularly alarming, namely some minor disturbances at Rookwood Castle… But as it’s private property, we never really saw to intervene…”

Sebastian was taken aback.

“What do you mean?” he frowned. “It’s been empty for years! Someone’s been breaking into the premises! Of course you need to intervene!”

“It’s not that simple, Sebastian…” Hastings countered. “We can’t interfere in Rookwood’s private matters on his own estate…”

“What do you mean, Rookwood’s private matters?!” Sebastian spat. “Merlin’s beard, Hastings, Victor Rookwood has been dead for three years…”

“Sebastian,” Sharp interrupted hastily, concern flooding his features. “It’s not Victor.”

Sebastian faltered.

“Then, who could it-”

“George Rookwood,” Hastings corrected. “Victor Rookwood’s younger brother. Inherited the estate after his… Passing.”

With this new information, Sebastian's entire world nearly crumbled from under him…

He’d assumed that Rookwood was the last of his bloodline, and in doing so, had made a terrible mistake.

It all made perfect sense…

Alert Rookwood.

They weren’t searching for a means to revive the Rookwood legacy…

George Rookwood was looking to usurp it.

“The Rookwood family is local to Feldcroft,” Sebastian began, his mind whirring. “If they’re causing a commotion at the Castle, it’s because he’s looking for something… Something specific…”

His glance turned to Al-Jadawi.

“Something his crones evidently couldn’t find in Egypt,” He continued. “Or else, he found something more effective closer to home…”

“He was gutting the castle a matter of weeks ago,” Bramwell countered. “But the reports today are coming from a site further out from the village… Close to the cliffs?”

“But that’s where-”

His heart dropped into his stomach as the revelation hit him.

“I have to get to Feldcroft,” Sebastian snapped, instantly grabbing his jacket and jump-starting into action. “Sharp, Ronen… Alert Professor Weasley and Professor Hecat… Gentlemen,” he called as he began striding towards the Portkey, “get back to the Ministry and put out a call for reinforcements. Meet me by the cliffs to the south of the village as soon as you can.”

“Sebastian,” Hastings called, following quickly behind him, “What is it? What do you know? Do you have any idea what Rookwood is looking for?”

Sebastian stopped in his tracks, turning to Hastings with a burning rage in his eyes that startled the man.

“Oh,” he growled, “I know exactly what he’s looking for…”

Chapter Text

Upon regaining consciousness, he was able to perceive two things; that he was restrained, and that his captors did not know he was blind.

Giving a light tug at the ropes that bound his hands behind him, he could feel the cloth that had been tied across his face to cover his eyes and deduced that neither set of knots were budging any time soon.

He did notice, however, that he could speak... Nothing was obstructing his mouth.

So, whoever their captors were, they had questions for them.

Hearing a pained groan to his right, he called out to her.

“Are you alright?”

He heard her struggle against her bonds.

“Om-”

“It’s going to be alright, darling,” he hushed to her. “But under no circumstances are you to say my name, understood? Give nothing away.”

He heard her frantic breathing as she continued to struggle.

“Stay calm,” he soothed. “Slow, deep breaths. Panic isn’t good for… You… Right now.”

He heard her slowing, allowing the initial panic to subside.

“Wh- where are we?” She called out, to both him and into the space they occupied.

He could feel the dampness of the ground seeping into his clothes. That, accompanied by the echo in their voices suggested a vacuous space, below regular terrain. The cool chill that surrounded him suggested a stone-based structure…

And yet, he heard crackles of fire.

Lanterns, perhaps?

No, it was an open flame.

Torches.

“Some kind of dungeon?” She queried, as if reading his thoughts. “I don’t… I- I can’t see anything.”

Welcome to my world, he groaned internally.

There was a horrendously familiar scent that lingered in the air… It clung to the back of his mouth.

Musty air… Damp, dirty earth… Rusting metal…

Flesh.

Old flesh…

Rotting flesh…

Burning flesh.

His breath hitched in his chest as he realised exactly where they were.

“We’re in the Feldcroft Catacomb,” he murmured to her.

“The Catacomb?!” She gasped as they heard lumbering footsteps approaching. “Why would anyone bring us here?”

“Not just anyone…” A nasal voice crooned, pulling the blindfold from her eyes.

She found herself face-to-face with a wizard she’d never seen before. Older than her, but by no means short of youth, with a vicious scar that ran across his face; cutting through his left eyelid, across the bridge of his nose and folding into the crooked curl of the malicious grin that stretched uncomfortably across his face.

“Merlin, you’re a pretty thing,” he growled as she winced at his fingers that pawed greedily at her face. “Grown into quite the looker. You’re a lucky man, Mr. Sallow.”

“Leave her,” he growled. “Whatever your qualm is, take it up with me and leave her out of this. Let her go.”

“Ah, but you see, Mr. Sallow…” He sneered, turning to address the still-blindfolded Ominis. “That’s our problem...”

Her eyes darted frantically around the familiar space; taking in the candles that lay aglow on the central stone altar as the braziers in the corners of the tomb burned brightly.

“I have no quarrel with you, sir…”

Turning back to face her, a malicious grin warped his face.

“My qualm is with her.”

Her back thudded against a stone sarcophagus as she recoiled away from his tall figure leering intimidatingly over her.

“Who are you?” She snarled defensively. “What do you want with us? Why did you bring us here?”

“Every Feldcroft man enjoys a trip home to this sleepy old village once in a while,” he chuckled sadistically, beginning to circle the altar in front of them. “Isn’t that right, Mr. Sallow? Although I hear you’re charading as an Aranshire man nowadays… Tsk tsk, never forget your roots.”

Tittering to himself, he leaned in close to Ominis’ concealed face.

“How’s your sister nowadays?”

“Don’t you dare bring her into this,” Ominis snarled, writhing in his constraints. “Or I’ll see to it that the next body buried in here is yours.”

“Come come, now, Sallow…” He smirked. “What’s a little curse between old friends? Besides, someone had to teach her that she can’t just go running into things and interrupting people’s plans…”

His gaze instantly snapped to her, all the sinister, insincere warmth draining from his face as he stared at her coldly.

“That’s what really gets you into trouble,” he sneered viciously.

Her eyes scanned his features, looking for any kind of giveaway as to his identity.

“Tut, tut, Mrs. Sallow… It’s not polite to stare,” he remarked, drawing his wand and pressing it to her throat. “Really, Sebastian, don’t tell me that I need to teach your pretty little wife some manners now, too?”

“Get away from her,” Ominis growled. “Who are you?”

“You’re not Victor Rookwood,” she scowled, her chin shooting up defiantly. “Victor Rookwood is long dead.”

“Well observed, pumpkin,” he tittered, lowering his wand and returning to the altar. “You’re absolutely right, I’m not Victor Rookwood…”

His gloved hands were poised as he leaned over the stone slab with a sly grin.

“I’m his brother…”

He reached for an old, dishevelled skull lying idly at the base of the altar.

“And you’re the meddling little brat that killed him,” he growled, presenting it to her in his outstretched, accusing hand. “Now that you’re all grown up, what say we even the playing field?”

With a click of his fingers, two cronies came running over from the gathered cohort of Rookwood’s men.

Ominis heard the subsequent scuffling and struggles, powerless to defend her as he struggled against his own bonds. With a painful thud, he heard the tugs of rope against the stone altar as they tied her to it.

“You see, Sallows…” Rookwood mused, tying a knot in the scarf that now covered her mouth as she attempted to cry out. “I’ve heard tell of a rather special Relic… A Relic that could prove to be rather useful to me…”

Ominis froze, a chill running down his spine as the realisation dawned upon him.

“A Relic that allegedly resides in this very Catacomb,” he grinned. “And, wouldn’t you know it, I’m told by a few locals that a couple of meddlesome Hogwarts students, namely a local Slytherin boy and a nosy little Ravenclaw with bright red hair, came rifling around down here almost three years ago...”

Struggling against the ropes that bound her to the altar, she gave a muffled yelp of protest.

“So, I suppose my question, Mr. Sallow, is simply this…”

Towering over him, Rookwood leaned down to snarl at him.

“Where’s the Relic?”

“Even if I did know,” Ominis scowled, “I’d never tell you.”

A sudden force colliding with his gut jutted all the air from his lungs.

“Did that manage to jog your memory?” Rookwood hummed, “or, failing that, your morals?”

“Never,” Ominis spat, panting for breath.

An exasperated sigh heaved from Rookwood’s lips.

“Such a shame it’s come to this, Sebastian…” He tutted, sidling back to the altar. “But evidently, you need a little more incentive to loosen your tongue…”

An overwhelming sense of dread washed over Ominis.

“Crucio!”

He cried out in horror as he was forced to listen to her writhing in agony, her muffled screams of agonising torture piercing his still-aching gut.

As the onslaught subsided after what felt like an eternity, he heard her panicked gasps.

“Slow breaths, darling,” he called out helplessly to her. “Try and breathe through the pain… Whatever you do, stay awake. Do not pass out…”

A muffled yelp of distress came from the direction of the altar.

“I know, darling… I know…” He soothed, “I’m so sorry. Please, darling, keep breathing…”

He was cut off by the feeling of a rough hand grabbing at his jaw.

“Let me ask you again…” Rookwood hissed. “Where’s the Relic, Sallow?”

Ominis sighed defeatedly.

“Please…” He whispered, all of his previous façade disintegrating, “I promise you, Rookwood... I have no idea where it is. Torture me, curse me… Do whatever you want to me... But leave her alone. I swear to you…  I don’t know where it is.”

With another heaving sigh, Rookwood released his grip on Ominis.

“I’m surprised at you, Sebastian,” he crooned. “I understood that you’d do anything for her… I really thought you loved your wife more than this…”

“No, please…” Ominis begged, lurching forward. “Please don’t do this…”

“You’re twisting my arm here, Sallow…” He sighed, gearing up for another cast.

“Rookwood, DON’T!” He cried out, causing him to pause mid-cast.

“Had a change of heart, have we?” He smiled.

“I swear to you, I have no idea where it is… But please,” he begged, “please don’t…”

“Not going to cut it I’m afraid,” Rookwood tutted. “Merlin, what a disappointment you’ve turned out to be…”

Before he could cast again, Ominis screamed out in desperation.

“For Merlin’s sake, Rookwood, she’s with child!”

A hushed silence fell over the tomb, a tangible chill rippling through the air as the gathered gang of dark wizards exchanged unsettled glances, holding their breath in anticipation of their leader’s next move.

“I’ll help you find the Relic,” Ominis pleaded. “You can do whatever you want with it… But for Merlin’s sake, please… Don’t hurt her.”

Rookwood cast an eye over her stomach, still heaving with her muffled, pained sobs.

He smirked.

“I understood you to be a fearless duellist, Sallow… Someone to be reckoned with… Turns out you’re nothing but a snivelling coward…”

Ominis’ head hung in submission.

“… CRUCIO!”

His head snapped back up, his own anguished cries mixing with hers as he pleaded with her to stay awake amidst her ongoing screams and to keep breathing as the torture continued for minutes that seemed to stretch into millennia…

Until he heard the thud of her unconscious body against the stone slab, accompanied by the maniacal laughter of their captor.

“You monster,” Ominis snarled, lashing against his constraints. “You fucking monster, I’ll kill you!” He roared.

“Now, now, Sebastian…” Rookwood chuckled, approaching him. “You’re not really in a position to be making threats like that, are you?”

Reaching for the knot, he began to untie the blindfold.

“Merlin,” he smirked, “you can’t even look me in the ey-“

As the rag fell to the floor, Rookwood’s chest tightened as he found himself staring into the opalescent eyes of Ominis Gaunt.

He staggered backwards, Ominis clocking the urgency and panic in his steps with a vicious smirk.

“You idiots!” Rookwood roared to his cohort, “This isn’t Sebastian Sallow! This is Ominis Gaunt!”

Ominis sensed the panic that ensued in the vibrations of the floor.

“You morons!” Rookwood screamed. “Do you have any idea what will happen when Marvolo Gaunt finds out that we abducted his brother?!”

“Oh, I wouldn’t worry too much about that,” Ominis called out, a wry smile stretched across his lips…

He sensed a familiar gait approaching through the stone archway…

Size 11 brogues, currently crouched behind the stone pillar directly above him.

“I’d be far more concerned about what’s going to happen when Sebastian Sallow finds out that you abducted his brother.”

With an ear-shattering crack, the entire tomb was flooded with Aurors, disarming and apprehending Dark Wizards before they could even acknowledge what was happening.

Taken aback by the ambush, Rookwood went to grab the notebook that was poised on the altar, but with another swift crack, found himself colliding with one of the tomb’s stone walls.

He was held up against it by a towering figure with dark features, whose wand was pressed painfully firmly into his neck…

The man’s jaw was clenched so tightly it seemed as though it might snap, and every muscle in his body tensed with barely controlled rage.

He didn’t speak…

He didn’t have to.

Rookwood knew.

He hesitantly turned his head to meet the dark, smouldering eyes of Sebastian Sallow; burning with a fury that hollowed out the air around them, more terrifying than any physical or magical threat…

Green sparks hissed from his wand, still pressed into Rookwood’s neck, as his eyes bore into him with a look of pure, unbridled rage.

It was the look of a man who was about to take a life.

Chapter Text

He’d vowed never to come here again.

His chest grew heavier with each frost-bitten step towards the familiar stone entryway, its immaculate seal blasted callously open.

Had he done that?

Every crunch of dirt-laden snow under his boots felt like the agonising drone of a dirge.

No, he thought… she’d insisted they seal it back up again after Ominis had gone.

“It’s only courteous,” she’d quipped. “Respect for the deceased and all that.”

“Respect for the deceased?” He’d snorted. “After we’ve just ransacked the place?”

“Technically, you’re the only one that took anything…” She’d smirked. “I’m just here to keep you from becoming a permanent resident.”

“And insect removal,” he’d winked.

“Spiders aren’t insects…”

“Don’t start…”

“Sallow?”

He was jolted from his thoughts by the arrival of Hastings and Blackwell, accompanied by an eclectic cohort of wizards and witches, who seemed to be led by a tall, broad-shouldered figure who was striding up the faded stone pathway behind his two colleagues.

He had strong, chiselled features; with piercing, ever-vigilant grey eyes and a neatly trimmed beard, framed by dark hair that reached just below his shoulders, which were adorned in a worn leather coat.

“Sallow, you haven’t had a chance to meet-”

“Alaric Stormrider,” Sebastian nodded stoically, extending his hand to the gentleman whom he had recognised in an instant. “Sebastian Sallow. I’ve heard a lot about your work.”

“I can only apologise that we’re meeting under these conditions, Mr. Sallow,” Stormrider sighed, flashing him a warm, sympathetic smile as he shook his hand. “Hear you’re quite the duellist. You’ll be a valued addition to the team today...”

He turned back to gesture to the gathered unit.

“Meet The Shadowbreakers.”

A highly specialised unit within the Auror Office, The Shadowbreakers were assigned to the monitoring, tracking and neutralising of Dark Wizards and their respective gangs.

They all nodded politely to Sebastian, who gave them a curt, subdued, yet polite smile in return.

“And this,” Stormrider smiled, “is my right-hand man…”

“Woman,” she corrected with a firm tone and an affectionate smile.

“Woman,” he smirked warmly… “Seraphina Flintwick.”

Slender and graceful, she moved like a shadow; her every step soft and deliberate. Her dark, raven-black hair cascaded down her back in soft waves. Her eyes were a deep violet hue, shimmering with an intensity that seemed to pierce right through him.

Before he could extend his hand to her, she reached to give his shoulder a reassuring squeeze.

“Don’t worry,” she whispered tenderly to him. “We’ll get them out of there.”

He nodded; a small, appreciative smile flickering at his lips, before clearing his throat… Pushing away the knot that continued to form in his chest.

“We need to move carefully,” Stormrider announced. “If they have the hostages inside, we can’t risk charging in without knowing what we’re up against.”

Sebastian shifted uncomfortably.

Patience had never been his strong suit, especially not now.

"I know the Catacomb,” he admitted, staring at the stone archway. “We can use that to our advantage."

“What can you tell us?” Flintwick pressed, scanning the entryway herself. “Do you have any idea what could’ve drawn him down there?”

Sebastian’s eyes lingered on the steps leading down into the darkness, his mind racing through all the memories he had tried to bury.

“They’re here for a Relic,” he murmured. “There’s a rumour… A very old rumour, tied back to Salazar Slytherin himself, of a Relic… A Relic with dark powers. They say it was hidden deep in this Catacomb centuries ago.”

“Rookwood believes he can find it here?” Stormrider asked, his voice a deep rumble.

Flintwick tilted her head, her sharp gaze assessing him.

Sebastian gave a tight nod, carefully measuring his words.

“That’s what I’ve heard…” He hesitated. “Assuming it even exists. The stories are inconsistent… More myth than fact.”

Seraphina’s violet eyes flickered with interest.

“You don’t think he would waste his time on a myth, do you?”

Sebastian shrugged, keeping his expression neutral.

“It wouldn’t be the first time someone went chasing shadows down here,” he answered honestly.

Stormrider’s face remained impassive; his sharp grey eyes trained on Sebastian as if trying to read beneath the surface.

“We need to be smart about this,” Sebastian said, eager to change the subject. “The Catacomb is a maze of chambers and corridors. Some paths lead to dead ends, others circle back on themselves. If we make one wrong turn, we could lose valuable time.” His eyes scanned the group, locking on Flintwick and Stormrider. “Plus, it’s not just the paths we have to worry about…”

He took a breath, his gaze growing darker.

“There are traps… Cursed bones embedded in the walls. Step too close, and you’ll find yourself fighting skeletons, or worse... And… there are spiders.”

"Spiders?" one of The Shadowbreakers muttered with a hint of disdain.

"Massive spiders," Sebastian clarified, his tone severe. "If we disturb them, they’ll be on us in seconds. They’ve made nests in the deeper chambers… Massive webs, which are traps of their own. If a single spider catches a glimpse of us, we’ll lose any chance of surprise. The noise alone will alert Rookwood’s men that we’re coming."

The group exchanged uneasy glances, the atmosphere tightening.

"How far in?" Stormrider asked, unfazed.

Sebastian pointed toward the dark opening ahead of them. "They’re deeper in, past the second antechamber. But they wander… We could stumble right into them at any turn."

There was a beat, the weight of the situation settling on the group.

Flintwick, who had been quietly observing, took a step closer to Sebastian.

“If Rookwood’s men have been moving in and out of the catacomb,” she began, “there’s a good chance they’ve already dealt with the spiders.”

Sebastian considered this for a moment, nodding slowly.

“If they have, that could be a game changer...”

Stormrider glanced between them; his expression sharp.

“Then we move quickly and quietly, using whatever advantage we can.”

He turned to his team. “Stay tight, watch for traps, and follow Sallow’s lead. If we get too close to any spiders or their nests, we deal with it swiftly, without giving away our position...”

-

The air inside the catacomb was thick.

Suffocating.

The walls closed in around them as they moved deeper into the winding tunnels. Every step was cautious and deliberate, the soft sound of boots on stone barely more than whispers.

Sebastian led the way, the flickering light of his wand casting shadows on the ancient stone, his heart pounding louder in his chest with every passing second.

The others followed closely behind, wands drawn, eyes sharp.

Stormrider, his broad frame nearly filling the narrow passage, whispered something to Flintwick, but Sebastian barely heard it.

His focus was entirely on what lay ahead.

Eventually, he raised a hand, halting the group.

Just beyond the carved stone arch, a vast chamber he remembered all too well opened before them. The low-burning torches cast flickering light on the rough stone walls, illuminating the crude altar that dominated the room, along with...

His heart clenched at the sight of her.

Dishevelled, bound, pale, but alive.

Ominis, too, looked worn and exhausted…

Why is he blindfolded?

Surrounding them were at least a dozen dark wizards, all dressed in the telltale black cloaks of Ashwinders… And at the centre of it all, standing tall with a cruel smirk on his face, was George Rookwood.

Rookwood doesn’t know that Ominis is blind, he deduced with a frown.

That’s… Odd.

 It’s not exactly a Gaunt family secret... And most of these wizards rub shoulders with his relatives…

Stormrider stepped closer, his voice barely a whisper as he analysed what they could see.

“We’re outnumbered,” he turned to the gathered Aurors, “but we have the element of surprise... If we hit them from multiple angles, we can take out most of them before they even know what’s happening.”

“We’ll split into groups.” Flintwick nodded. “I’ll flank them from the right… Hastings, Blackwell, take the left. Alaric, you and Sebastian…”

Her gaze flickered to him, softening for just a moment.

“You take point. We follow your lead.”

Sebastian nodded, though his mind was barely holding on to the plan.

His eyes were fixed on her.

“Our priority is threat neutralisation, first and foremost…” Stormrider continued to the cohort, his eyes flickering cautiously to Sebastian, whose distress he could sense. “Then, we get the hostages out of there as soon as possible. We have no idea what kind of treatment they’ve been sub-”

“Crucio!”

The screams that followed ripped through the air, tearing at Sebastian’s soul.

His vision blurred as his entire body tensed, every fibre of his being urging him to run to her, to stop this…

To make them pay.

Stormrider grabbed his shoulder, pulling him back just as he took an involuntary step forward.

“No,” he growled in a low, commanding voice. “Not like this. You can’t go in there now.”

Sebastian’s breath came in ragged gasps, his mind reeling with the pain of hearing her scream… Knowing she was suffering because of him.

He felt like he was suffocating.

Drowning.

“She needs me,” he whispered, his voice shaking. “I can’t… I can’t just stand here.”

Stormrider’s strong grip on his arm kept him grounded, but there was sympathy in his eyes now, cutting through the sternness.

“I know,” he said softly. “I know, Sallow. Believe me, I do...”

He glanced at Flintwick, whose usually steely gaze was now softened with genuine sorrow. She looked at Sebastian with such quiet empathy that, for a moment, he felt like breaking apart right there.

“We’re going to get her out,” she soothed understandingly. “But if you go in there now, they’ll kill you, and you won’t be able to help anyone.”

As the agonising screams subsided, Sebastian swallowed, trying to calm the storm raging inside him.

“Slow breaths, darling,” he heard Ominis call. “Try and breathe through the pain…”

“He’s right, baby…” he whispered, a silent plea that he begged any deity to let her hear. “Keep breathing. Please, keep breathing…”

He forced himself to breathe… To focus.

Think, Sallow, his mind pleaded with him…

Something’s not right.

Going after her made sense… But why would Rookwood kidnap a Gaunt?

It’s true, Ominis isn’t on speaking terms with them, but surely the Ashwinders wouldn’t risk the wrath of…

The penny dropped.

They didn’t go after a Gaunt.

They don’t know that it’s Ominis…

That’s why he's blindfolded.

They think it’s someone else.

Someone whom they expected to be accompanying her…

With all the excitement around Feldcroft, they must’ve caught wind of…

They think it’s…

Merlin, that’s it.

That’s our in.

“Sebastian?”

Stormrider’s voice pulled him from his thoughts.

“Are you still with me?”

With a deep breath, he nodded.

“I need to take Rookwood.”

Stormrider and Flintwick frowned.

“Sebastian, I don’t-”

“He thinks that I’m in there…” Sebastian clarified, pointing to the stone archway. “He thinks I’m where Ominis is. Why else would they blindfold a blind man?”

The realisation flickered in their eyes.

“So,” Flintwick frowned, “If he thinks you’re in there…”

“He won’t expect to see you coming towards him at full force,” Stormrider nodded, “which gives us a further element of surprise…”

“Rookwood, DON’T!”

Through the dark haze came Ominis’ almost unrecognisable voice; broken, pleading…

Desperate.

The entire group held a collective bated breath as they waited for the rest of his sentence.

“I swear to you, I have no idea where it is… But please… Please don’t…”

Stormrider gave him a firm nod and turned to the others.

“Everyone, get into position.”

The team moved swiftly, blending into the shadows. Sebastian took his cover, his heart pounding with an equal mix of fear and fury as Stormrider squeezed his shoulder reassuringly…

“For Merlin’s sake, Rookwood, she’s with child!”

Time stopped.

He felt the ground shift beneath him, his breath catching in his throat.

His chest constricted painfully as everything else faded into the background.

The Relic, the chamber, the plan…

None of it mattered.

She was with child.

She was with his child.

He blinked, his body suddenly numb, his mind in free fall.

The woman he loved was carrying his child…

And she was in the hands of a madman.

Because he’d left her.

Alone.

To chase another shadow.

Another. Damned. Relic.

And he hadn’t known…

He hadn’t even known.

“Sallow!”

Stormrider’s voice broke through his spiral, sharp and commanding.

“Look at me, Sallow. Look at me.”

Just as Sebastian’s panicked eyes met his, Rookwood roared triumphantly;

“CRUCIO!”

The air left Sebastian’s lungs.

The sound of her screams made his entire body jolt.

He felt his heart shatter; an agonising, soul-crushing pain that tore through him. His hands trembled violently, his chest heaving.

Somewhere in the distance, Stormrider’s voice was trying to reach him, but all he could process was her…

Her screams…

Her pain...

Their pain.

Sebastian’s eyes stung, the edges of his vision swimming as he fought against the tears welling up. A bitter, scorching anger rose from the pit of his stomach, so consuming that he could feel it burning the inside of his chest, threatening to devour him whole. His knuckles whitened as he clenched his wand so tightly it felt like it might snap under the pressure.

As the cracks from Rookwood’s wand continued, her cries grew weaker; as if she no longer had the strength to scream properly…

When he heard the thud of her unconscious body against the stone, something in him shattered irreparably.

The tears he had been fighting back spilt over, but they weren’t soft tears.

They were the kind of tears born from deep, harrowing despair, mixed with an anger so black and all-consuming that, once surrendered to, there was no coming back from.

The wrist clasping his wand twitched.

Just two words, the black void hissed to him…

Tempting him.

That’s all you need to do, it soothed.

Two words…

One curse…

And all of this can stop.

“No, Sallow.”

Stormrider’s voice, as though able to read his thoughts, cut through to him.

He twisted against his hold, trying desperately to wrench himself free. But the older Auror’s strength didn’t waver.

“You’re not a killer.”

The words pierced through Sebastian’s core.

Not a killer.

But in that moment, he wanted to be.

For this moment, in this place, with everything at stake, he wanted to end Rookwood’s life with a single strike.

It would be so easy.

So satisfying…

But it wasn’t just killing one man.

He would be killing the man he had fought to become, too.

The man who wanted to be better…

For her.

For their child.

For a long, agonising moment, he was frozen; caught between the pull of vengeance and the weight of his own conscience. The battle inside his mind was fierce… Almost unbearable…

The desire to end it all…

To finally make the Rookwood family pay…

That insatiable desire clawed at him like a restless beast...

Before he could compose himself, Stormrider gave the signal to ambush.

In a short blur of mania, he had George Rookwood pinned to a coarse stone wall, his wand pressed to his throat as the man gasped for air.

“This is a new low for your family, George…” He growled, slamming his first forward to knock Rookwood’s head back against the stone. “We’ve got a special ward in Azkaban for wizards who are obsessed with hurting children… Victor’s got a plaque in there and everything.”

Struggling against Sebastian’s grip, a yelp escaped his lips as the sparks from Sebastian’s wand began to prick and burn his skin.

“But thinking you can hurt an unborn child?” He hissed, the words hitting Rookwood’s skin like venom…

“Thinking you can hurt… My unborn child?”

He leaned in, his face mere inches from Rookwood’s.

“I’ll bury you myself,” he snarled, his chest rumbling with a bloodthirsty growl.

The intensity of his hatred was a noxious fog clouding his mind… Whispers of temptation hissed at him to do it… Cast it…

“Sebastian!”

Ominis’ voice, steady but pleading, bringing with it the reality of the situation, punched through the haze.

“I need to get to her… I need my wand!”

He took a breath.

This wasn’t about vengeance.

This was about saving her.

Saving them.

With a guttural growl, Sebastian released his hold on Rookwood, letting his body slump against the cold stone. Without breaking eye contact, he raised his wand and shot a sharp bolt of red magic, point blank, at Rookwood’s head, knocking him unconscious.

The Dark Wizard crumpled to the ground, entirely lifeless bar the faint rise and fall of his chest.

Sebastian’s own chest heaved, his fists clenched…

"Good choice."

Stormrider stepped forward, placing a calming hand on Sebastian’s shoulder, giving it a reassuring squeeze.

"Go to her. I’ll handle this."

Nodding swiftly, Sebastian forced himself into action; moving towards the altar and searching the area.

His hands were still shaking, but his focus sharpened as he scoured the stone floor for Ominis’ wand.

Eventually, he felt its familiar weight under his fingers.

“Ominis!” he called, getting his attention. “Eleven o’clock!”

Tossing the wand to his friend, Ominis caught it with a quick, practised motion.

With his regained senses, they moved to her together.

She was still bound to the cold stone, her face pale and her breathing far too shallow. The sight of her, so fragile and lifeless, made Sebastian’s chest ache.

He quickly untied the ropes, his hands trembling as he freed her.

Gently, he brushed the hair from her face, his heart pounding…

“Stay with me, angel…” He whispered, tenderly pressing his forehead to hers.

Her skin was cool to the touch.

“Ominis,” Sebastian croaked, his voice breaking as he turned to his friend. “She’s… Is she…?”

“She’s alive, but barely,” Ominis said quietly, his brow furrowed in concentration. “I need to get her to St. Mungo’s... Now.”

Sebastian's throat tightened as he looked down at her fragile form. With the utmost care, he lifted her into his arms; pressing a soft, slow kiss to her brow before transferring her to Ominis.

“Please... Do anything…” He pleaded, squeezing his arm as he turned to go. “Anything it takes… Just bring her back. Bring them both back. Please…”

Ominis simply nodded.

“I’ll do everything I can… You have my word.”

With a few final steps, he gave Sebastian one last nod, a silent promise between the two, before vanishing from the tomb in a swirling crack, taking her to safety.

Watching them go, his heart felt like it had been torn from his chest.

But he couldn’t allow himself to collapse.

Not now.

He couldn’t give into despair…

Not yet.

His wife and child might still be in danger, but right now, the only thing standing between them and safety was this last fight.

Flintwick approached, her face sympathetic but her tone professional. “We’ve got Rookwood secured. Aurors are ready to transport him to Azkaban. A few of his men are still trying to hold out in the north end of the tomb.”

Sebastian’s eyes hardened as he straightened, squaring his shoulders.

“Then let’s finish this.”

As the battle raged on, the Dark Wizards began to retreat, their formation tightening as they were backed into the depths of the Catacomb. But their desperate eyes gleamed with the manic malice of caged animals, and one of them raised their wand high, muttering an incantation that sent shivers down Sebastian’s spine…

He recognised the guttural screams in an instant.

Grotesque, pale figures began to rise from the shadows, their decaying hands clawing at the ground as they emerged from their eternal slumber. The air grew thick with the stench of rot as more and more of the undead crawled out, surrounding them.

“Fire spells!” Sebastian shouted; his voice hoarse. “We need fire! It's the only thing that can stop them!”

The group instantly shifted tactics, but for every Inferius they struck down, two more seemed to rise in its place. Sebastian's heart pounded in his chest. They were becoming overwhelmed, the tide turning rapidly against them.

Stormrider fired off a barrage of fire spells, taking down several of them, but it was clear they were losing ground. Flintwink moved like a wraith, casting controlled flames and powerful charms at the Dark Wizards, but even she was being pushed back. The room echoed with the crackling of fire, the clatter of Inferi limbs on stone, and cries of exhaustion.

As Hastings was knocked to the floor, Sebastian called out to him as a flailing Inferius, still alight from one of his fire spells, lurched towards him…

Just as it went for him, a bright bolt of magic shot across the catacomb, disintegrating the corpse before their eyes and striking down a Dark Wizard that had been advancing towards Flintwick.

Sebastian whipped his head around, eyes widening in disbelief. More flashes of magic erupted from the entrance to the catacomb, as a group of local Feldcroft wizards stormed in.

At the front of the crowd, leading the fray, stood Solomon Sallow.

His weathered face was as hard as stone, his wand raised as he blasted through the ranks of Dark Wizards with precise, ruthless strikes.

For a moment, they locked eyes across the chaos, and a heavy silence passed between them amidst the roar of battle. The air crackled with unresolved tension, old wounds that still festered between them, but for now, there was no time for reconciliation, no time for words…

Just action.

“About time you showed up,” Sebastian called, his voice strained but laced with a smirk as he dealt the final blow to an Ashwinder.

Solomon’s lips twitched in the ghost of a smile. “Someone has to clean up your messes.”

They fought side by side without another word, the years of estrangement put on hold as they battled on.

Their movements were seamless, instinctive… Almost as though the two had never been apart.

Solomon's fierce magic scorched through the Inferi ranks, whilst Sebastian's quick reflexes disarmed enemy wizards, their coordinated efforts bolstering the dwindling morale of the Aurors.

As the fight dragged on, a Dark Wizard hurled a curse toward Solomon, and Sebastian deflected it just in time, casting a searing jinx in retaliation. Solomon gave his nephew a sideways glance, his eyes flickering with something resembling pride.

“Nice one, Syrus,” Solomon smirked, the name slipping from his lips before he could catch himself.

Sebastian’s heart jolted at the name.

His father’s name.

For a split second, the heat of the battle faded away, leaving only that moment of recognition.

Solomon had never called him that before.

He’d barely called him his own name.

He’d always been his stubborn brother’s stubborn son, but he’d never mixed him up with his father…

Not until now.

Just as they seemed to gain the upper hand, with Inferi crumbling under their relentless fire and the last few Dark Wizards being pushed into retreat, a sudden, high-pitched voice rang out from the far end of the Catacomb...

“Avada Kedavra!”

He barely had time to react.

His muscles froze as he stared down the path of the oncoming Killing Curse.

His heart skipped a beat, his mind racing with thoughts of his wife...

Their child...

Panic gave way to acceptance...

But before the curse could strike him, Solomon was there.

He threw himself into the path of the curse, his body colliding with Sebastian as the green light hit him squarely in the chest.

Silence.

Sebastian could only watch in horror as his uncle’s body crumpled against him, his eyes wide and unblinking as the life drained from them. Solomon fell to the ground with a dull thud, his wand clattering beside him.

Falling to his knees, Sebastian clutched at Solomon’s shirt, shaking him, as if that would bring him back… But there was nothing.

No heartbeat.

No breath.

No life.

The Dark Witch who had cast the curse was blasted backwards by Stormrider, her body slamming into the stone wall with a sickening crack.

With the last of the Inferi crumpling into ashes, the battle was won…

But the victory was hollow.

Sebastian remained kneeling beside his uncle, his entire body trembling as the weight of what had just happened crashed down on him.

Solomon had died protecting him.

After everything…

After all the bitterness and anger that had coursed between them for years…

His uncle had sacrificed himself to save his life.

As they approached him, still hunched over his uncle’s corpse, Stormrider and Flintwick exchanged cautious glances.

Stormrider placed a firm hand on Sebastian’s shoulder, but he didn’t move or react.

“He saved you,” Stormrider murmured, his voice low and steady. “He chose to save you.”

Sebastian swallowed, his eyes burning as he stared down at Solomon’s still form. His hand clenched into a fist, a mixture of grief, guilt, and gratitude swirling inside him.

“I know,” he whispered, his voice breaking.

For a long moment, no one spoke.

Finally, Flintwick broke the silence, her voice soft but firm. “We need to get him out of here... We need to get both of you out of here.”

Sebastian nodded numbly, his hand still resting on Solomon’s chest. “Yeah… Yeah, I know.”

With a heavy heart, he stood, his gaze lingering on his uncle one last time before turning to face the rest of the catacomb, the echoes of battle still ringing in his ears...

“Live.”

His father’s words echoed through the darkness.

“Live for us, for yourself, and for those you love...”

You’ve got a wife and a baby that need you, Sallow, his conscience murmured.

“We’ll take care of everything here,” Flintwick nodded to him. “Go.”

Chapter Text

His face was streaked with ash, grime, and dried blood…

A stark contrast to the pristine, sterile walls of the hospital.

His mind raced, his heart a frantic drumbeat as he stormed past a group of nurses, ignoring their startled protests.

Standing just beyond a set of double doors in the corridor ahead, Ominis was surrounded by a group of Healers, all fussing over him, though he batted them away with impatient gestures. His normally pale face was drawn and tense, his brow slick with sweat.

Sebastian bolted toward him.

“I’m fine. Stop your fussing,” Ominis snapped irritably at another Healer, before turning towards the incoming Sebastian.

His expression softened as he put a hand on his shoulder.

“She’s alive,” he assured him.

Sebastian’s breath caught. He gripped Ominis’ arm.

“And the baby?”

Ominis nodded, his voice steady despite the weight of his words.

“Alive. No damage from the Cruciatus curse.”

“Oh, thank Merlin...”

Sebastian exhaled, the relief crashing into him like a tidal wave. For a moment, his legs nearly gave way beneath him.

“There is something, though…”

Ominis turned his head toward the Healers behind him, exasperated, as they once again attempted to tend to the scrapes on his arms.

“For Merlin’s sake, I’m fine! Focus on her, not me!” He growled, brushing them away. Turning back to Sebastian, his expression was more serious.

“She’s not conscious, Sebastian. We’ve tried everything. She’s stable, and the baby is unharmed, but… Nothing is waking her.”

Sebastian froze, his grip tightening involuntarily.

“What do you mean, ‘nothing’?”

“She’s stable, Mr. Sallow…”

A Healer stepped forward cautiously, her tone laced with sympathy.

“There’s no immediate danger to her or your child, but whatever impact repeated exposure to the Cruciatus curse is having on her… It’s preventing her from regaining consciousness.”

“We’re not sure why she won’t wake,” Ominis sighed. “It’s almost as if she’s trapped somewhere… Somewhere we can’t reach.” His voice was low and pained, his own frustration seeping through the calm exterior he usually maintained.

Sebastian’s chest tightened again, and his eyes flicked from Ominis to the Healer.

“And you can’t reverse it? No spell, no potion? There’s nothing else you can do?”

The Healer hesitated.

“We’ve tried everything we know. This is... Beyond anything we’ve seen before.”

Sebastian felt a fresh surge of anger burn through him, his fists clenching at his sides. He wanted to shout, lash out at anything, to break through this helplessness.

His wife, his baby… He couldn’t lose them.

Not after everything.

Not now.

He fought to keep control, struggling against the urge to storm out, find Rookwood again, and make him pay for everything he’d done.

Ominis, sensing the rising storm within his friend, stepped closer, his voice softer but firm. “Sebastian, listen to me. She’s alive, and the baby is too. That’s what matters right now.”

“But-”

“I know… I know it’s not enough, but they’re fighting. She’s fighting. Just like she always does.”

Sebastian shook his head.

“I can’t just... I can’t stand here and do nothing. I have to fix this.”

“I know.” Ominis’ voice was calm but resolute. “But right now, we need to focus on finding out what’s causing this.”

Sebastian’s mind spun, racing through possibilities. Every fibre of his being demanded action, demanded he do something…

It felt all too familiar.

"Let me see her…" Sebastian rasped, his voice breaking slightly as the weight of everything pressed down on him. “Please.”

Ominis nodded, gesturing for him to follow him down the hallway.

Turning down a final corridor and into the second-to-last doorway, the noise of St. Mungo’s faded into a distant murmur as his world narrowed down to the fragile figure that lay in a wrought-iron bed before him.

Her pale face looked almost ghostly against the white sheets, her chest rising and falling in slow, steady breaths…

But she was still.

Too still.

The battle, the pain, the rage… Everything dissolved in a mere moment as he reached out with trembling hands to gently cup her face. His thumb traced the curve of her cheek with a touch so light it was as if he feared she might break under the weight of it.

His heart clenched as he took in her state, the memory of her tortured screams still echoing in his mind.

“I was wrong,” he whispered, his voice trembling as he leaned closer. “I was so wrong…”

His forehead pressed gently against hers.

"I should’ve stayed,” he admitted, his voice cracking as he closed his eyes. “You begged me not to leave… You told me to stop, but I didn’t listen. I walked out, thinking I knew better. Thinking I was doing what was right. And now… Merlin, now I’m begging you…”

His breath hitched, a single tear slipping from his eye and falling onto her skin. His hand moved to cover hers, squeezing gently as he fought against the torrent of guilt and regret that threatened to swallow him whole.

“I’m begging you to stay,” he whispered, his voice breaking as he pleaded with her. “I know it’s ironic. I know it’s selfish. After everything I’ve done… After walking out on you... But please… Please stay with me. Don’t leave. I can’t… I can’t do this without you.”

He pressed a soft kiss to her cheek before his forehead met hers again, closing his eyes, his lips brushing against her skin as if the closeness could somehow anchor her back to life.

“I’d take it all back if I could, my love...” He breathed. “I’d stay… I’d stay and tell you everything… I’d burn every damn relic in the world if it meant keeping you safe. I don’t need them. I don’t need anything… Just you.”

He cradled her face tenderly.

"Please..." he whispered. "Please, come back to me."

His breath trembled as he held her close, as though he could will her back to consciousness through sheer force of love.

He tenderly brushed a strand of hair away from her face, his fingers lingering on her cold, pale cheeks.

"I can’t do this without you,” he murmured.

Floods of tears threatened to spill over, but he swallowed them down, focusing on the steady rhythm of her breathing, willing it to stay that way. He kissed her forehead, lingering there as though his touch could somehow bring her back.

"You’ve always been the strong one," he whispered against her skin. “You have to wake up. You have to fight... For our baby... For me..."

The tenderness in his voice when he spoke to her was unlike anything he had ever shown to anyone else. With her, all the walls he had built over the years… The anger, the stubbornness, the guilt… It all crumbled.

All that remained was his desperate need for her; to hold her and feel her warmth in his arms again.

“I need you, love.”

His eyes stayed closed, his forehead resting gently against hers, and for a moment, the world outside that room ceased to exist. All that mattered was the faint rise and fall of her chest, the frail pulse that kept her tethered to life. He held on to that, clung to it, as the only thing keeping him from falling apart entirely.

"I love you... I love you so much,” he whispered, his voice barely above a breath. “I’ll never leave you again. Just… Come back to me. Please don’t leave me... Please..."

His voice was barely audible now, choked with the tears he couldn’t hold back any longer.

"I’m so sorry."

The door to the room burst open with a sudden, sharp creak; breaking the silence.

Anne stood in the doorway, her chest heaving as if she’d been running, her wide, panicked eyes searching the room.

“S-Sebastian?” she gasped, her voice trembling. “What happened? Where’s Ominis? Please, tell me he’s alright… I heard what happened in Feldcroft… Uncle Solomon gathered the whole Hamlet as soon as he heard…”

Sebastian flinched at the sound of her voice, lifting his head slowly from his wife’s. The warmth and tenderness drained from his face, replaced by a cold, hollow ache.

He didn’t answer immediately, his throat tightening as he tried to find both the words and the energy to respond.

Anne’s gaze darted between him and the still figure on the bed before landing on Ominis, who stood at the other side of the room. Relief flooded her face as she rushed to him, pulling him into a tight embrace, holding him like she never wanted to let go.

“Thank Merlin,” she breathed, her voice shaky as she buried her face in his chest. “Thank Merlin you’re alright.”

Ominis wrapped his arms around her, his expression tender despite the exhaustion etched into his features. He stroked her hair, whispering quiet reassurances as she held him tight. “I’m fine, Anne... I’m alright,” he murmured tenderly, pressing a soft kiss to her forehead, though there was a malaise in his voice.

As Anne pulled back slightly, her gaze flickered to Sebastian, her relief quickly turning to concern.

“Sebastian…?”

Her eyes widened as she took in the sight of him… His clothes still torn and bloodstained.

“What happened? Are you hurt?”

Her voice was full of concern as she approached him slowly, but Sebastian couldn’t meet her eyes. The weight of everything crushed him under its unbearable load.

Anne took a step closer, her voice softer now. “Sebastian, where’s Uncle Solomon?”

His heart lurched painfully at the mention of his name.

The words stuck in his throat, refusing to come out, but he knew he had to say them.

His hands clenched into fists, his nails digging into his palms as he forced himself to speak.

“Anne…” His voice was barely audible, trembling with everything he was trying to suppress.

“Solomon... He… He’s...”

The room froze.

“He’s gone,” he croaked.

Anne blinked, the words not registering for a moment as the breath caught in her throat.

“Wh-what do you mean… Gone?”

With an aching pang in his chest, he forced his bloodshot eyes to meet hers.

In an instant, she knew.

“No...”

Her voice was a choked whisper, her eyes filling with tears as she shook her head in disbelief.

“No, he can’t be... He went to help you... He-”

“He saved my life,” Sebastian interrupted softly. “He jumped in front of a Killing Curse. It was heading right for me. I… I couldn’t stop it.”

His chest heaved with the weight of the words, the grief he’d been trying so desperately to hold back finally breaking through.

Anne’s knees buckled, and Ominis caught her just in time, holding her close as she sobbed into his chest. Her anguished cries filled the small room, and Sebastian had to look away, the guilt burning too hot to face her.

"I’m so sorry, Anne,” he rasped. “He… He didn’t deserve that. I couldn’t save him. I should have—”

“Stop,” Ominis interrupted, his voice steady but firm. “This isn’t your fault, Sebastian... Merlin, I- I’m so sorry…”

Anne’s sobs quietened as she clung to Ominis, but her tears fell freely. Ominis turned his head toward Sebastian, his opalescent eyes filled with a quiet, heavy sadness.

“You didn’t fail him,” Ominis murmured. “He… He made a choice to protect you.”

Sebastian’s head hung low, the guilt still gnawing at him. He sat in silence, unable to bring himself to respond.

He had spent years trying to make up for his past, trying to prove that he wasn’t the same reckless boy who had once believed he could save everyone…

And yet, here he was again.

Losing the people he loved…

Because he couldn’t save them.

His heart broke all over again as he watched his sister crumple in Ominis’ arms. He wanted to offer her comfort, to say something that would ease her pain, but he had no words.

All he could do was sit there, lost in the silence of his own guilt and grief.