Here's the second chapter to @bxrabbito 's fic request!
Word count ~4000
This Time: Chapter Two - Loitering
The next few weeks were…
Eventful.
Sebastian found himself with a sudden and inexplicable "need" for potion ingredients far more frequently than his duties at St. Mungo's actually required. Every few days, like clockwork, he’d find himself striding down Pudding Lane, the brisk autumn air nipping at his cheeks, and an excitable grin tugging at the corners of his mouth.
Pure coincidence, he told himself the first few times. Can’t be blamed for the hospital running low on inventory.
A good Healer was always prepared, after all.
But after the fifth visit in two weeks, it became harder to deny. It wasn’t about the ingredients anymore.
He pushed open the door to the Thistle and Thorn once again, the chime of the brass bell above the door ringing in the now-familiar notice of his arrival. The smell of lavender washed over him like a warm tide, and for a moment, everything felt calm. It wasn’t like the crowded chaos of Diagon Alley or the sterility of St. Mungo’s.
Here, it was quieter, softer, more her.
“Back already, Sallow?” Her voice rang from the back room, teasing and knowing.
He caught the faint warmth beneath her tone - the kind that wasn’t there during his first visit.
Sebastian leaned his elbow on the counter, his grin firmly in place. “You sound surprised. I figured by now you’d have your best guess at my order pre-packed and ready to shoo me off faster.”
The curtain to the back room shifted, and she appeared with a bundle of dried asphodel in her hands. Her sleeves were rolled and her apron stained as ever, and today there was a smudge of something green on her cheek.
“Let me guess…” She said, setting the jar on the counter. “You’ve come for something wildly obscure and ‘urgent’ again, haven’t you?”
“Urgent is a strong word ” He replied, drumming his fingers on the counter. “As is obscure. But, since you mentioned it, I am in need of two vials of powdered moonstone.”
She cocked a brow. “Powdered moonstone? That’s it?”
“Don’t look so offended.” He said, leaning in just a little, lowering his voice to goad her into leaning just a bit closer. “I’m a simple man with simple needs.”
Her eyes flickered up to meet his, one brow arching even higher. Her lips pressed into a line, fighting against a smile she clearly didn’t want to give him. She pulled the jar of moonstone from the shelf behind her without breaking eye contact.
“Simple man, is it?” She asked, her voice dry as she measured out two small vials for him. “The same man who spent more days in detention than the classroom, survived a goblin battle, and now spends his days healing mortal wounds that imbeciles ‘accidentally’ cast on themselves at home?”
“Simple doesn’t mean boring.” He quipped, letting his gaze trail just a bit too long over the curve of her body - something that had certainly changed nicely with the years. “It just means I know what I want.”
Her fingers paused briefly, just a flicker of a moment as she registered the veiled words.
“Here.” She said briskly, sliding the two vials toward him on the counter. “That’ll be one galleon.”
He reached for his pouch, but instead of pulling out the coins, he slid something else onto the counter - a small paper bag with the local candy shop logo stamped on it. It was crumpled but clearly fresh.
She glanced at it, her brows pulling together in confusion. “What’s this?”
“Pepper Imps.” He said simply. “I remember you used to eat them by the box at Hogwarts.”
She looked from the bag to him, then back to the bag. She pressed her lips together, and for a moment, he thought she was going to make some dry remark. But instead, she reached out, grabbed the bag, and - without a word - tucked it into her apron pocket.
“Fifteen Sickles, actually.” She amended her price, her tone as flat as ever, but her eyes betrayed her - she was pleased.
A quiet, amused warmth that hadn’t been there before.
Sebastian chuckled and paid her, but as he dropped the coins onto the counter, he leaned in one last time. “Go ahead and eat them all at once again. I’ll be back soon with more bribery.”
“I’m counting on it now.” She replied with a huff, already walking toward the back room.
-
The next visit, he brought Oliver a licorice wand. It wasn’t much, just a little treat he’d picked up from a shop on his way over when he remembered the way his eyes widened staring up at that jar of goo asking for candy. No grand gesture - just something simple since she'd mentioned she'd have the boy in the shop with her while the nanny was away.
Simple man, simple needs.
When he stepped through the door, his pretty apothecary wasn’t at the counter.
“Hello?” He called, leaning over the counter to peer into the back.
Her voice floated out, carrying a faint hint of exasperation. “Back here. Oliver, love, please - no, don’t put that in your mouth!”
Sebastian smirked, stepping around the counter and pushing the curtain aside just enough to see inside. The sight was something he wasn’t prepared for. She was crouched on the floor as she tried to wrangle Oliver, who was determined to shove an entire bundle of dried peppermint leaves into his mouth.
“Oi, you’ve got competition for most stubborn.” Sebastian called, amused. “Looks like Oliver’s after the stock again.”
She shot him a look that could have petrified a basilisk. “You want to help, Sallow? Or are you just going to stand there and be smug?”
“One's more tempting than the other.” He drawled, stepping inside.
He crouched next to the squabbling mother and son, pulling the licorice wand from his pocket like a muggle magician producing a rabbit from a hat. “Here, Oliver. Trade you.”
Sebastian internally praised his foresight for bringing the candy on a whim. Perhaps he'd fare well as a Seer?
Oliver’s eyes went wide at the sight of the licorice, his grip on the peppermint bundle loosening instantly. He toddled forward, hands outstretched, and grabbed the licorice wand with pure, innocent greed.
“I can be helpful and smug, see?” Sebastian said, winking at the gaping witch as he stood. “Bribery. Works every time.”
She stood as well and gave him a long, slow look, arms crossed, hip cocked, and brow raised in that judgemental way only she could manage. But despite all of it, her lips twitched into a reluctant smile.
“Lucky for you, I’m too tired to argue about offering him sweets before supper.” She muttered with a relieved sigh.
“Lucky for me, indeed.” He replied, watching her every little movement with rapt interest.
-
The visits became even more frequent.
Sometimes he had an excuse - a need for powdered hellebore, a batch of belladonna that had gone bad, a “last-minute” request from St. Mungo’s.
Other times, he didn’t bother with an excuse at all.
She never asked why he kept coming back, and Sebastian never said. But it was in the way she started setting aside the exact vials he’d “need” on the counter before he even walked in.
It was in the way her apron pockets always had a crumpled paper bag of sweets she’d accepted without question.
It was in the way Oliver now greeted him with a wide grin and a loud, “Bastian!” every time he stepped inside.
It was in the way her gaze lingered on him just a little longer than it had before.
“Starting to think you fancy me.” He said one afternoon as she handed him a wrapped bundle of sage.
“Starting to think you’re delusional, Sallow.” She shot back, but her eyes were soft.
“Delusional enough to think I’m winning you over.” He retorted, leaning on the counter with a grin so rotten it should have put him in Azkaban.
“Keep trying.” She replied coolly, glancing up at him through her lashes, something almost shy beneath that confidence she wreathed herself with.
Sebastian leaned in closer, his voice low. “Oh, I plan to.”
Her gaze dropped just briefly to his mouth before darting back up.
He saw it.
And this time, he didn’t let it go.
“Careful, now.” He said, his voice a whisper. “You keep looking at me like that, and I might start thinking I’ve already won.”
Her gaze held his for a moment longer than it should have. Then, slowly, she turned away, a faint smile curling on her lips.
“Get out of my shop, Sallow.” She said, and he could see just how bashful he'd made her.
Sebastian stepped back with a laugh, walking to the door, but not before calling over his shoulder.
“See you soon.”
-
The rain drummed softly against the windowpanes of the Thistle and Thorn, the soft patter blending with the low bubble of a brewing cauldron in the back room. The world outside was grey and blurred, streaks of rain cascading down the glass in uneven rivulets. The street beyond was quieter than usual, the crowds of Diagon Alley and Pudding Lane thinned by the dreary spring weather.
Inside, she tended the shop with purpose, though there was a weariness to her movements today. Her apron was stained with splotches of deep indigo and faint green smears, the unmistakable evidence of potion-making gone stubbornly awry. Her arms and forehead sported a brilliant smudge of something copper-colored which she hadn’t noticed, and her hair - usually pinned back neatly - had come loose, errant strands falling from the twist to frame her face.
Her eyes carried the telltale signs of a long morning: drooping lids, the occasional slow blink, and the too-frequent yawn she kept trying - and failing - to stifle as she straightened the shelves. Every so often, she’d pause to rub at her eyes with the heel of her palm, grumbling something under her breath about just a few more hours.
The soft chime of the bell above the door pulled her from her sleepy haze, and she spun on her heel, blinking rapidly to shake the sleep from her eyes.
And there he was.
Sebastian Sallow, casually stepping inside, rain droplets still clinging to the shoulders of his cloak. His hair was damp, the stray curls darkened to near black, and his grin was already forming as he shook his head like a dog, worsening the tousled mess.
“Afternoon.” He greeted smoothly, his voice warm and teasing as he shut the door behind him with a nudge of his boot.
He shook the rain from his cloak, once again not unlike a dog shaking off water, and glanced at her with the assessing eyes of a Healer. “You look… industrious.”
She blinked, clearly caught off guard. Her gaze darted to the shelves she’d just organized, then to her stained apron, and finally to the lock of hair that had slipped free and now hung loosely in front of her face. Her eyes widened, and she reached up quickly to push it back, fingers fumbling just slightly as she attempted to smooth it away and then hurriedly swiping her potion-sullied arm on her apron, only serving to spread the mess around.
She sighed and gave up on any hope of looking remotely presentable.
Sebastian’s grin twitched wider.
Oh, she was flustered.
“Long morning?” He asked innocently, stepping closer to the counter.
He leaned his forearms on it, watching her with that maddeningly casual interest he’d perfected over the years.
“You could say that.” She muttered, pretending to be busy dusting a shelf that definitely didn’t need dusting. “Shipment arrived late, everything was mislabeled, and I had two walk-ins asking for burn salve like I could whip it up in two minutes.”
“Sounds about right.” Sebastian said, tilting his head to watch her as she moved.
His eyes tracked every motion - the flick of her wrist as she adjusted a bottle, the way her brow furrowed when she blew her hair out of her face. She was precise and focused, even when she was exhausted.
And Merlin help him, she was beautiful.
She always had been, but there was something different about seeing her like this. Hair falling loose, sleeves uneven, sleepy and unkempt. No pretense. No polished facade. Just her.
He felt something twist in his chest, warm and waking from dormancy. It wasn’t new - not really - but it was louder today. More certain.
She glanced at him, catching his eyes still on her. Her hand hovered for a moment as if she’d been about to grab another bottle but had forgotten which one. Her gaze narrowed slightly, suspicious.
“What?” She asked warily.
“Nothing.” He said too quickly, his grin too knowing. “Just admiring your dedication, apothecary.”
“Uh-huh.” She squinted at him, but there was a faint pink tint blooming on her cheeks. She ducked her head, turning back to the shelf.
Oh, she was trying to hide it now.
Sebastian’s grin turned positively wolfish, but he decided - for just today - to show mercy. He rapped his fingers against the counter, letting the rhythm fill the quiet space. The rain continued its soft patter against the window.
“You busy right now?” He asked after a moment, his tone deceptively casual.
She shot him a glower. “I’m always busy, Sallow.”
“Then take a break.”
Her brows lifted. “A break?”
“Yeah, you know - sit down, put your feet up, rest.” He arched a brow, leaning on his elbow now. “You do remember what rest is, don’t you?”
“Can’t.” She said, but there was hesitation in her voice as she glanced at the front of the shop, as if checking for customers. “I’ve got stock to sort, shelves to clean -”
“And none of it will vanish or burst into flame if you stop for ten minutes.” He cut in smoothly. “Come on.”
Her lips pressed together, exasperated. But she sighed, her shoulders slumping slightly.
“You're loitering again.” She muttered weakly.
“And yet, you keep letting me back in.” He shot back, patting the counter beside him. “Come on. You can argue with me from up here.”
She hesitated for only the briefest moment before she moved to the counter, resting her hands on it.
She glanced at the space he’d cleared with a tap of his hand. “You’re not going to let this go, are you?”
“Not a chance.”
Her sigh was loud, but it was also amused. With one quick, practiced movement, she hoisted herself up, planting herself next to him with a soft thud. Her legs dangled over the edge, her feet swinging slightly like she was fifteen again, relaxing outside the Great Hall between classes.
“Happy?” She asked, tilting her head toward him.
“Ecstatic.” He replied, leaning back on his hands, his gaze fixed on the window ahead. They sat in comfortable silence for a moment, the rain still tapping lightly at the glass.
“Feels like Hogwarts.” She murmured, her voice quiet now. “All this rain in spring.”
“That it does.” He agreed softly. “Feels like waiting out a storm in the common room. Just quieter.”
Her eyes shifted to him. “I miss it sometimes.”
He glanced at her. “Hogwarts?”
“No. Us.” Her eyes flitted away as soon as the words left her mouth, like she’d said too much. She tapped her fingers lightly against her thigh, her gaze suddenly very interested in the far shelf of the shop.
“Yeah.” He said quietly. “I miss it too.”
They didn’t say anything for a while, keeping the comfortable silence between them.
She yawned suddenly, covering her mouth too late to stifle it. She blinked rapidly afterward, shaking her head as if to clear it.
“Merlin.” She muttered, swaying slightly as she adjusted her seat. “I’m more tired than I thought.”
Sebastian watched her for before tilting his head toward his shoulder.
“Go on then.” He said, his voice light but firm. “Take a proper break. A little afternoon cat nap.”
“Can’t.” She murmured, already leaning to the side, her head lightly bumping his shoulder. “Work.”
“Not today.” He muttered, his gaze softening as he flicked his wand toward the front window. "Healer's orders."
The OPEN sign hanging on the door flipped over with a quiet click, revealing CLOSED in bold white lettering.
Sebastian glanced down at her fondly. Her head was resting against his shoulder, breathing slow and even, the faintest smile still playing on her lips. Her hair had slipped from its twist completely now, falling in loose waves around her face. She looked more peaceful than he’d seen her in weeks.
Sebastian tilted his head, resting it lightly against hers.
“Rest up.” He whispered. “I’m not going anywhere.”
His own eyes drifted shut, and he let himself breathe in the warmth of the moment. The rain on the window. The cauldron in the back. The weight and warmth of her leaning against him.
He could be a little late back to work today, as well.
-
The rain hadn’t stopped, if anything, it had steadied into background noise to aid their rest. The room was dimmer now, the lamplight from the street filtered through the rain-slicked windows. The apothecary smelled of lavender as always.
Neither of them had moved in ages.
She was still leaning into Sebastian, her head resting on his shoulder, hair loose and tickling against his neck. She’d stopped pretending she was "just resting her eyes" ages ago.
He’d slipped his arm around her at some point - he wasn’t even sure when - and now his fingers idly traced slow circles on the side of her arm. She hadn’t said a word about it. Hadn’t pulled away. If anything, she’d leaned in closer and eased further.
He wasn’t about to look a gift abraxan in the mouth.
They’d stirred a while ago, talking on and off, their voices low and unhurried. It wasn’t like they had anywhere to be - he'd already missed the remainder of his shift and she was in no shape to continue with the shop duties. He could smell the faintest trace of that herbal salve she always used on her hands - calendula, if he remembered right. It had that sweet, distinct scent to it, and he’d never quite forgotten.
“So.” She began, her voice heavy with sleepy ease. “They actually let you be a Healer?”
Sebastian huffed a laugh, tilting his head to rest lightly against hers. “They did. Took a lot of convincing, though. Had to swear I’d never use any curses in a medical setting.”
She hummed, smiling against his shoulder. “So no Confringo for unruly patients?”
“Tempting at times, believe me.” He chuckled. “One bloke threatened to jinx me just last week, said he knew dark magic. Wanted me to heal him faster, as if that’s how it works.”
“What’d you do?” She asked, her eyes still half-closed. “I hope you didn't get into a pissing match over who knew more dark magic?”
“No, I politely informed him that if he knew so much about magic, he could heal himself.” Sebastian said. “Then I made him wait an extra hour.”
She snorted, covering her mouth. He could feel her shaking against him, and the sound of it - soft, genuine laughter - warmed him more than any hearth ever could.
“Merlin, I missed you.” He admitted quietly, the words slipping out before he could think better of it.
Her laughter stilled. She just sat there, leaning into him, like she’d heard him say it a thousand times before.
“I missed you too.” She admitted. Her fingers fidgeted with a loose thread on her apron, her gaze distant, lost somewhere in the past. “Things were bad back then, but we were good.”
“We still are.” Sebastian corrected carefully, watching for her reaction.
Her fingers stilled then. She didn’t pull away. Didn’t look away either. For a long moment, they just looked at each other, and Sebastian scrambled for something to fill the silence - anything to keep momentum going.
But before he could think of what to say next, she broke the quiet herself, tilting her head back down and resting it against him again. She yawned, letting out a long breath through her nose. “Alright, tell me more about Healer training. You must’ve been insufferable as a trainee.”
He chuckled, letting himself relax again, his fingers resuming their slow circles on her arm.
Slow and steady.
“Oh, I was worse than insufferable. Half my instructors were fed up I'd already read and memorized their assigned texts and charms.”
“Let me guess.” She said, grinning sleepily. “One quit?”
“Two.” He amended, grinning. “Apparently, dusty old codgers don’t appreciate it when you suggest improvements to established methods on day two.”
She snickered, her eyes fluttering shut again. “Of course you did.”
“Of course I did.” He echoed, his grin softening. “Didn’t get kicked out, though. Turns out I’m annoyingly just good enough at it to balance out the arrogance.”
“Annoying’s one way to put it.” She teased fondly.
Her cheek was pressed against his shoulder, her breathing steady, and there was something about the sight of her like this - at ease, with him - that struck him.
He wanted more of this.
But something had been sitting in the back of his mind since that first day he walked into her shop. A question he hadn’t asked. A question he’d been too cautious - too afraid - to ask.
He watched her for a moment longer, heart picking up pace.
Then he spoke.
“So, there's something…” Sebastian paused, voice wary, before he tried again. “Can I ask you something?”
Her eyes cracked open, still soft with that sleepy haze. “You’re going to anyway, I'm sure.”
He let out a small huff of nervous laughter, rubbing the back of his neck. He hesitated for another moment, but he forced himself to push forward.
“Oliver’s father.” He said, each word deliberate and slow. “What… happened there?”
For a second, he wondered if he’d overstepped.
“Ah.” She breathed, sitting up a little. Her eyes drifted to the window, her fingers picking at the edge of her apron. “He was my fiancé. We’d been together since right after Hogwarts.”
Sebastian nodded, listening quietly.
“He wanted excitement.” She continued, her voice even but laced with a dry, bitter humor. “Became a curse-breaker for Gringotts. Traveled a lot. Loved it, too.”
She glanced at him, her smile hollow. “Turns out he loved his colleague even more.”
Sebastian felt his stomach twist, his jaw clenching at the weight of those words.
“He left a week after Oliver was born.” She continued casually like it was just another fact in a long list. “No letter. No further explanation. Just gone. Haven’t heard from him since.”
Silence settled in.
“I’m not angry.” She said after a moment, tilting her head back against his shoulder. “I’m not heartbroken, either. He showed me exactly who he was, and I believed him. So I let it go and did what was good for Oliver.”
He didn’t know what to say at first, his heart too full and too tight all at once. Slowly, his hand moved from her arm, his fingers threading gently into hers, giving them a squeeze.
“You deserved better.” He said simply. “Both you and Oliver.”
Her fingers squeezed his back. “I know.”
He didn’t sense bitterness in her. He didn’t see sadness. What he did see was resilience. Calm, steady, beautiful resilience.
Merlin, I love you.
It hit him so suddenly that he almost startled himself.
He really did love her.
Sebastian swallowed hard, glancing back at the window like the rain might somehow ground him.
Don’t say it. Not yet. Don’t scare her off.
Instead, he leaned his head back against hers, taking a calming breath.
He said her name quietly, and she tilted her head up to look at him.
“Have dinner with me.” He said, his heart thudding like it was his first duel all over again.
Her brows lifted, her lips parting slightly in surprise. She blinked at him once.
Twice.
Then slowly, slowly, she smiled.
“Are you asking me out on a date, Sebastian?” She asked, her voice light and waiting.
He shot her a lopsided grin. “I sure am.”
“Alright, Healer.” She said softly, leaning in just a fraction closer. “A date.”
And for the first time since Hogwarts, Sebastian Sallow felt like he’d won something that actually mattered.
🥹❤️
