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A Knowing Look Masterlist
Pairing: Sebastian x F!reader Summary: That moment again, he's insisting that friends look at each other like that. In which Sebastian is whipped and literally everyone can see from a mile away that this is more than friendship.
Chapter 1: Ominis Chapter 2: Poppy Chapter 3: Leander Chapter 4: Anne (update!) Chapter 5: Sebastian Chapter 6: You
Just wanted to send a little shoutout to all the lovely people who commented on AKL chapter 4! I genuinely love this little fic so much, and I'm always so happy when other people enjoy the silly little things I write <3
As always, @eleanorstaghart @spaceyaceface @deliciouslyferal @musicbecky @ithinkweallsing for all your love on the fic since chapter 1!!! Like seriously, everytime I get your comments I feel soooooo warm and fuzzy inside!!! yall are THE BEST! @nadyalich @skittish1807 Thank you for your kind words on the fic!!! and @mrsbrookesallow OF COURSE! My tag list is super unofficial, but will definitely tag you on the next chapter.
A Knowing Look Masterlist
Pairing: Sebastian x F!reader Summary: That moment again, he's insisting that friends look at each other like that. In which Sebastian is whipped and literally everyone can see from a mile away that this is more than friendship.
Chapter 1: Ominis Chapter 2: Poppy Chapter 3: Leander Chapter 4: Anne (update!) Chapter 5: Sebastian Chapter 6: You
🚨 NEW CHAPTER ALERT!!! 🚨
I apologise for the tardiness - but pls enjoy
Chapter 4: A Knowing Look
Pairing: Sebastian x F!Reader Summary: In which Sebastian is whipped and literally everyone can see from a mile away that this is more than friendship.
“Is that… a mistletoe?” “It… must be Anne’s doing.” Was all Sebastian could say, rather lamely. He was ready to laugh it off. Tell her that it was just a silly little old thing. But to his surprise, she replied almost matter-of-factly: “… Supposedly if we don’t kiss, we’d be doomed to 100 years of misfortune.” Almost cautiously, he replied, “We wouldn’t want that.” “Not at all,” She said as she nodded.
Chapter 1 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 6 | AO3 Link
Chapter 4: Anne
Winter fell upon Feldcroft. Snow descended upon the Sallows’ home in soft billowy mounds.
Sebastian had never really understood the appeal of Christmas. It was always too cold, too dark and too stifling to just stay at home. Under Solomon’s roof, he never let himself feel too comfortable. Not even the guise of mulled cider, plum pudding and ornately decorated pine trees could make him put his guard down. He much preferred the freedom of Hogwarts endless hallways. If not for Anne - well, he frankly wouldn’t have bothered to make the trip over. There was little joy to reap or use to gain from seeing Solomon’s irritable face.
But despite Solomon’s numerous shortcomings, he allowed him to invite both of his best friends over for Christmas. And for that, he was grateful.
Glancing over to the kitchen, he couldn’t help but soften and break into a smile at the sight. Under the glow of the dim candlelight, Ominis and Anne were chatting merrily.
Ominis normally looked so stoic, like an old man that held the entire weight of the wizarding world in the crease of his brow. That was the blight of the Gaunt family name. But as he sat listening to Anne, who was animatedly retelling one of her classic tales of misadventure, his expression was as light as a feather. Even with his perfectly pressed shirt and impeccably neat cardigan, it was such a relief to see that he could look like an ordinary teenage boy.
And Anne… Well, Anne had her good days and bad days. Thankfully, today was one of her better ones. She’d been particularly energetic as of late. Despite Sebastian’s protests, she went out of her way to decorate the cottage with wreaths, tinsel and candles galore. Insisting that guests should not be subjected to Christmas in a house so bare.
He hadn’t seen either of them look so content in a while. Not since they were just three kids scheming mischief in the Undercroft. Not since they’ve become three weary people weathered by fate’s hand.
The normalcy of it all gave him newfound hope. One that felt different from the kind of hope had him hunting ancient relics, ravaging the restricted section, and burning dark wizards ever since Anne got hurt.
This one was softer. Much quieter and warmer.
Just for today, he would graciously allow himself not to worry. Not of curses or cures or hidden scriptoriums. Just Christmas. Just family and friends.
Anne’s voice broke him out of reverie, “Sebastian! What are you daydreaming about? Come here!” She beckoned him over with a wave of her hand.
“Probably best not to know,” Ominis said, “likely something despicable or unlawful.”
“Funny.” Sebastian said dryly, as he made his way over to them, “Utterly hilarious.”
“I am rather, aren’t I?” Ominis replied cheekily.
“If slander is your particular brand of humour.”
“Forget presents,” Ominis’ voice was laced with sarcasm, “Your endless wit is the greatest gift you could ever afford me.”
Sebastian rolled his eyes. The mouth on this one.
Sebastian looked around the room and noticed that there was one person sorely missing. Their absurdly lovely (it’s all still very complicated) friend. After the whole Andrew Larson ordeal, he conceded that it was possible that this whole friendship thing… could potentially be more than a friendship thing.
It was a crush - a flight of fancy. On someone who just happened to be a beautiful, smart and wickedly talented friend.
That was the only way that Sebastian could rationalise it. Crushes were perfectly normal and frivolously fleeting. Calling her a softness, or a fancy or even the object of his affection was all still manageable. It was better than the alternative. Because if he were to start calling it anything more than that…
Well, that could be perilous.
Love had consequences, and Sebastian wasn’t sure if he was ready to face them.
The girl wonder had also been staying with them in Feldcroft these past two days. Sebastian had only been back at Feldcroft for two days and Anne had already been making terribly sly remarks his way. How could she have known? Had she and Ominis been exchanging letters behind his back?
He supposed that practically half of Hogwarts had already accused him of being infatuated with the girl wonder. But in fairness, the prying eyes of the student body had been privy of his relationship with her for the better half of two years. It made him wonder if he was being so obvious that perhaps even Solomon could sense it too.
That would be mortifying.
And honestly, after the emotional whirlwind he’d already been on — Sebastian didn’t know how it could get any worse.
He cleared his throat, “Anyways, where’s the girl wonder gone to now?”
Anne shot him a mischievous look that Sebastian knew meant trouble. It was too devilish and deliberate to ignore, and it felt like Anne could see right through him. What was she plotting? Sebastian raised a curious eyebrow in response.
Anne replied with a shrug, “She’s just gone to the room to grab something.”
And as if it had been planned meticulously ahead of time — the door creaked open and the sound of her footsteps approached.
He turned around and almost made an ungodly sound at the sight. A wrangled, pained sound that he was frankly quite embarrassed to acknowledge. Because this — whatever this was — was something he hadn’t been expecting.
“Is that my sweater?” Sebastian swallowed thickly.
The girl walked out of the bed chambers in an old green knit sweater with a small embroidered flower on the left corner that looked all too familiar. There was nothing spectacular about it, but Sebastian knew without a sliver of doubt that it was his sweater that hung a little too loosely on her shoulders. Because as most nine year old boys did with their clothes, he had bought it dismissively when he was in Diagon Alley, and wore it to death in his youth. It had been chucked carelessly across fields, caves, bodies of water all across Feldcroft. It was tattered, frayed and looked worse for wear from his haphazard use.
So how in Salazar’s name did it manage to look so damn good on her?
There was nothing precious about it.
But it was his. And she was wearing it.
Sebastian was of two minds about it all. He couldn’t quite decide it himself — was this a gift or divine punishment from the Gods? Where had she even found the old blasted thing and was she actively trying to kill him? The niggling urge to touch her was stronger than he had ever felt before. His self-restraint was melting with every second longer his eyes lingered on her. The only thing that was holding him back from holding on to her (and never letting go) was the ridicule he’d most definitely receive from Ominis and Anne.
To his dismay, to the deep sickly pit in the bottom of his stomach — this was very likely something that would be permanently etched into his mind. There was something primal inside the diabolical crevices of his brain that just couldn’t unsee it. Some unhinged line of thinking that his brain managed to conjure up to justify it all. That if she looked this perfectly right in his clothes, he could believe that there was a universe in which she could be his.
That if people could be owned (he knew they couldn’t) — she would be rightfully his.
“Oh, I figured you wouldn't mind,” Anne said, “She was feeling a little chilly, so I gave her one of your old sweaters. You hardly wear it now anyways.”
Almost nervously, the girl wonder gave a small twirl, “Well, it doesn’t look silly on me does it?”
Silly? Sebastian thought. It was a little silly.
It was silly that the sight of her in his old, worn and beaten sweater that he’d worn to death, made his heart scream out of his chest. How was it possible that she could even make scraps of wool look so bewitching?
It was as if being the wielder of a rare form of ancient magic hadn’t sufficed her hunger for power. It was as if she went out of her way to contrive her very own beguiling brand of magic that would render him a total fucking dunce. How else could Sebastian explain the prickling in his fingertips to reach out to her? Or the compulsion in his chest to bury his face in the crook of her neck? And that stupid sweater must’ve smelled like him. Years and years of him. By that logic — because she was wearing it — that must mean she now smelled like him too.
And the thought of that was almost too thrilling for his chest to handle.
Merlin. All this overthinking was a testament to the steely grip this witch had on his heart.
Despite his inner turmoil, he just about managed to choke out a response.
“Not at all. It suits you.”
It more than suited her. In fact if she never wanted to take it off — he’d gladly allow it.
Ominis gave him a pointed look. Anne smiled knowingly. Sebastian wanted to hide. He felt as if his innermost feelings were being paraded on display. Like his internal organs and his blathering heart had been sprawled across the dinner table for everyone to witness. The only person that didn’t seem amused or even remotely aware of his pining was her. She looked at him so sincerely that it was almost distressing. Delightfully doe-eyed, she smiled brightly at his compliment.
It was so fucking endearing that he had to look away. Any longer and would probably combust on the spot into a fan of pitiful flames. Or collapse from this corny infatuation-induced arrhythmia his heart was suffering from. So he turned to look at Anne scathingly instead.
“But thanks for asking before you raided my closet, Anne.” Sebastian said chidingly.
Anne smiled mysteriously, ignoring his accusatory tone all together.
“I was being a courteous host is all.” She said innocently.
Sometimes Sebastian forgot how conniving his sister could truly be. He couldn’t decide whether he was annoyed or proud of her shenanigans.
The girl wonder, sensing something off in Sebastian’s tone, interjected, “Anne was just trying to help. But I can put on something else if you’d prefer—”
“No.” Sebastian said firmly, “You don’t have to. I don’t mind.”
From afar, he heard Ominis snicker.
Ominis was likely calling Sebastian all sorts of embarrassingly belittling names in his head. But that seemed unfair. How was Sebastian supposed to tell her that he would in fact mind it very, very much if she took off his sweater — without sounding like an utter fool?
“Thank you.” She said with a smile and his heart was beside itself.
In fairness, he supposed that Ominis had been right about one thing.
Sebastian was a fucking sap.
“I can’t help but picture a young, petulant baby-faced Sebastian running around the house causing all sorts of mayhem in this sweater,” she said full of mirth as she wrapped her arms around herself, hugging the sweater in glee. Never had he been jealous of a sweater before. That was new.
“Come off it,” Sebastian retorted, “I’ll have you know I was never a petulant child.”
Ominis piped, “Never? That’s odd. You’re still perfectly petulant to me.”
“Okay someone put Ominis on a time out please.” Sebastian said grouchily.
The girl wonder laughed. And like a shot of healing draught down his throat, the sound of it washed away the irritation in the nooks of his taut body.
As she linked arms with Ominis, she said “Come Ominis. I’ll save you from Sebastian’s wrath.”
They retreated into the kitchen, getting plates to help Solomon set up the tables for dinner. With burning eyes, Sebastian watched as they walked away, feeling listless tied to the ground that he stood on. Anne stayed firmly beside him, as if she’d been waiting for this moment to corner him all evening.
“I saw that.” Anne whispered.
His heart leaped, “Pray tell, sister, exactly what you saw?”
“Oh,” she said coyly, “Just the terribly soppy looks you were giving our friend.”
“Oh.” Sebastian said, almost sounding resigned.
Anne raised an eyebrow, “That’s all you have to say?”
“Well, frankly you’re not the first person to say that to me. So I can’t really give you much points for originality,” He replied dryly, belligerent thinking about the long list of friends (and frenemies in Leander’s case) who had already informed him of his affections towards her.
“Hmm, yes. Ominis did mention something about that,”Anne said.
So Sebastian had been right. They had been exchanging letters. He supposed that there wasn’t much point in denying it anymore. While it was true that he could admit to himself that he cared for her deeply, he hadn’t confirmed it verbally with anyone else. Not even Ominis.
But maybe it would be cathartic for him to just… say it out loud. To hell with it all.
Maybe this would be a good time to start.
“I guess there’s not much to contest when it’s the truth.” Sebastian tried to say as casually as he could, despite the palpable weight of what he was so blatantly saying.
Almost gleefully, Anne shrieked, grabbed onto his shoulders and shook him manically, “That’s so very sickeningly endearing for you to say. Who are you and what have you done to my terribly cynical brother?”
He groaned “I don’t know. It’s disgusting isn’t it?”
“Are you in love with her?” Anne squealed as she asked excitedly, ignoring Sebastian’s state of emotional turmoil entirely.
Love? He had wanted to yell. Or throw up. He’d been trying his damn hardest to avoid the word, and now Anne had just thrown it into his face. It had already taken so much out of him just for Sebastian to concede that this could possibly be more than friendship; that this was a romantic affliction. But love? That was a whole other degree and department of troublesome feelings. Love was severe. Love was drastic. Love was a steep curve for him to climb.
Also had Anne forgotten that she was sitting literally right there? In the next room? That she could easily overhear?
With a slight hiss, Sebastian motioned for her to pipe down, “Be a little more discreet would you? Also that’s a little strong. I wouldn’t quite call it… that.”
“Well, then what would you call it?” Anne asked inquisitively.
What was it? That was the ever-complicated question, wasn’t it?
“A crush.” He said simply.
“A crush?” Anne said with a laugh of disbelief, “No way. That brief … whatever you had on Violet McDowell in 2nd year, that was a crush—”
“—God, don’t remind me—” Sebastian said with a grimace at the embarrassing flashback.
But Anne paid no mind as she continued.
“— But this? The way you look at her. The way you speak of her — No matter which way you put it, I don’t think there’s anything else you can call it.”
Sebastian almost took offence at that. Because there had to be something he could call it that didn’t feel so treacherous. That didn’t make him feel like so suffocatingly he’d been backed into a tight corner.
“It’s… complicated.” He replied lamely.
“Sebastian it’s not like you’re trying to decipher an ancient form of magic,” Anne said sarcastically with a roll of her eyes, “It’s just a feeling. It just is or it isn’t. Boys truly are hopeless.”
Sebastian resented that.
“I resent that. It’s not that simple. I’m figuring things out.”
What was the rush anyway? To figure all this out? Love… or whatever this was, wasn’t something to take lightly. He never imagined that Anne would’ve been so frivolous with the word. If anything, he thought that she’d be telling him to tread carefully, not throw caution into the fucking wind. Wasn’t it decidedly worse to say such things so carelessly? To say something that he didn’t mean?
And if Sebastian was sure of anything, he knew that the girl wonder didn’t deserve anything less than the truth.
“Well you might want to figure things out a tad faster.” Anne said as if to warn him.
And that instantly set off a spiel of alarm bells in his cluttered mind.
“Why? Did she say something to you?” Sebastian said almost in a panic.
“I mean, look at you, Seb. You’re getting frazzled from speculation alone!” Anne exclaimed, as if he’d just proved her point “No, she hasn’t said anything to me. But do you really want to leave it long enough and risk her being whisked away by someone else?”
Sebastian had recently learned that he absolutely detested that idea.
He learned that he would sooner claw his ears deaf than ever have to endure her being taken away by anybody else.
Not that he had a right to be so dramatic about it, of course. Because people couldn’t be claimed – even if he wished dearly that they could be so. Because she was her own capable witch that had her own fair share of suitors vying for her affection, and Sebastian was (at least at the moment) too cowardly to do anything about it. Because even after all the mental mountains he’d already scaled to admit how fucking enamoured he was by her… he still couldn’t bear say the word love alongside her name.
But still. Beyond any rational reason he hated the thought of her being with anyone else with an infuriating passion.
“No.” He admitted.
And maybe that meant Anne was right.
He had to get his shit together.
“Then, dear brother of mine — a word of advice. And I’m saying this because I love you a stupid amount,” Anne said with a firm pat on his shoulder, “Girls don’t wait forever.”
Dinner had been lovely. They’d been fed all the works; from roast ham to mince pies to Christmas pudding. Sebastian had been surprised that Solomon had brought out all the bells and whistles for them. He couldn’t remember the last time that they’d had a meal so lavish in their humble abode. It must’ve been years. But he gathered that it very likely had to do with their special guests.
Since Solomon and Anne had done the majority of the heavy lifting with cooking dinner for them, he felt that it would only be fair that he should be the one to endure the surly task of doing the dishes. Which had left Anne gaping in total shock because she knew how fervently Sebastian hated doing the dishes.
“Okay, now you’re truly scaring me. Are you an imposter? Or an impeccably crafted clone?” Anne had teasingly said.
But to his delight (or his horror) the girl wonder had offered to help him.
So that was how Sebastian found himself in the dim kitchen candlelight, standing so closely to the girl that had been plaguing his every thought for the past few weeks. The girl that had been running amok in his tiny, addled brain. His shoulders brushed hers as they did the dishes in the sink. Like the sizzle of fire on an oiled pan or a gulp of caffeine, every little bump made him feel jittery. And there just was something so deeply domestic about this that filled his head with giddiness.
The smell of soap and sea sponges. The crackle of the fireplace. The muffled chatter from the living room. Her in his sweater. Her sleeves pushed up to her elbows. Her gloved hands. Her furrowed brow. Her smooth hair swept back in a clip.
Her in his home.
As she washed and wiped the dishes, she sang a pretty hum from her lips. It sounded folksy and merry and absurdly lovely in the lilt of her voice — but he didn’t recognise it. He deduced that it was likely one of those muggle tunes she loved so dearly. And he made a mental note to ask her about it when he was less distressed.
It all suddenly felt very dangerous. Largely because of how easily Sebastian could see himself accepting this as a permanent fixture in his life. How easily he could get used to all of this. And he wouldn’t need to be convinced by any means or measure. In fact he’d grovel, pray, beg whatever god or infallible wizard he needed to make this regular occurrence. A taste of this homeliness was enough for him to fold like a cheap suit.
It was appalling at how a tiny taste of mundanity was enough to devoid him of his wit.
“So…” she began slyly, “Anne told me an interesting story about you and the Neighbour’s garden.”
He felt himself go stiff, because that cloying tone of her voice did not sound good at all. What on Earth did Anne think that she was doing? God what on Earth did he think he was doing?
“Something about how you ran stark naked around your neighbour’s garden after a little bender down at the pub? ” She said almost all too innocently. He was shocked at how she managed to say such wicked things with such innocuousness.
He groaned in despair. That was not a story that he had ever wanted her to hear.
“Merlin. You need to stay away from Anne.” Sebastian said brusquely.
“I thought you wanted us to get along?” She said coyly.
His heart jumped. He swore that he could hear a hint of something wicked in the underbelly of her voice. Was she flirting? Because this certainly sounded like flirting.
And if the shivers that ran down the back of his spine was any indication, it sure fucking felt like flirting too.
“Yes, but not at my expense, obviously.” Sebastian said flatly.
“Where’s the fun in that?” She said with a mischievous glint in her eye.
Fun? Merlin this girl would be the death of him. It was supposed to be Sebastian who flustered her; who said cavalier things that made her blush feverishly and rendered her speechless. It had always worked with the village girls down the stream, or the barmaids in Hogsmeade. But with her — the one girl where it truly mattered — it had never been the case.
Here she was rendering him a total dunce, and all it took was a coy smile. All this time, Sebastian had thought that she’d been doing it unintentionally. But maybe she’d been doing it more deliberately than she’d let on. And if that was the case…
He wouldn’t survive it.
“You’re becoming more despicable with every passing day.” He retorted wittily, with just enough mirth to appear charming, but not too much as to leave him feeling exposed.
“I did learn from the best.” She replied pointedly and shrewdly.
Admittedly, he felt his chest swell with pride at the idea that she’d learnt it from him.
But before he had the chance to retort, she caught him off guard with a dose of sincerity.
“Thank you for letting me come over this Christmas.” She said quietly, to a backdrop of the running water tap and the clinking of ceramic plates.
She was thanking him so earnestly. And Sebastian wished he could take credit for it. Pretend that he was totally selfless in inviting her into his home — but he couldn’t shake the feeling that it would be wrong.
The girl wonder had made it known to him early in the year that she had planned to stay in the castle over Christmas. And when she had first mentioned it several months ago, Sebastian had felt restless — but at the time, he hadn’t known why.
After months of emotional whiplash, it was safe to say that he now had a clearer idea.
“Couldn’t let you stay alone in the castle, now could I?” Sebastian said.
“I mean you could’ve.” She joked.
He couldn’t have. He wouldn’t have. But how else was Sebastian meant to explain that without confessing some degree of his despairing devotion to her? How was he to explain to her that actually, she was doing him this favour? By being here, with him, in the dim corner of his childhood kitchen light. How else was he to explain to her that if she hadn’t, even if she stayed by herself in the hallowed halls of the castle, he’d still be the lonelier one between them?
He couldn’t. So he needed to keep it brief.
“No,” he said surprisingly sincerely, “I really couldn’t.”
And all of a sudden, the weightless atmosphere that once pervaded the room was now gone. The muffled voices from the living room became soft. Even the soreness in his fingers from all the dish-washing dulled. What was left was only the sincerity in his voice now. He hadn’t intended to sound so… honest, but he guessed that she naturally brought it out of him.
He could only hope that he hadn’t… totally freaked her out.
He turned to look at her, to say something either aloof or wildly charming — but he soon realised that it was a grave mistake. Because suddenly, he was looking right at her, and she was looking right at him. And with one measly look, Sebastian’s chest felt tighter and the air felt thinner.
(This was happening so often, really — you’d think that he would’ve been more accustomed to it all by now.)
Her eyes flicked up to something above them that had caught her attention; but Sebastian couldn’t bring himself to look up — or care in all honesty. Too enraptured by the magnetic pull of her eyes.
But the next words she uttered out of her lips, he couldn’t have ever ignored:
“Is that… a mistletoe?”
Sebastian almost wanted to laugh. Because surely, he had to have misheard.
Because a fucking mistletoe?
But alas, magically above them, a mistletoe sat. In all its almost mocking, prickly glory, a mistletoe was perched on the edge of the hanging kerosene kitchen lamp. All of a sudden, blood was rushing in his ears, drowning out the rest of the room. All that he could hear was the thunderous pounding thump of his relentless heartbeat banging against his eardrums.
When Sebastian realised that he hadn’t spoken for a while, he racked his tiny anxious brain for something meaningful, charming, or at least coherent.
“It… must be Anne’s doing.” Was all Sebastian could say, rather lamely.
Was this Anne’s idea of helping him move along? To make it all go a little faster? Because if that were true, this was the most insane plan he’d ever heard of. And Sebastian was normally the mastermind behind the most ludicrous and most asinine of plans — so trust that he could spot one a mile away.
If he hadn’t loved his sister so dearly, he would’ve banished her out to the neighbour’s cottage for the rest of the night for all the emotional strife she was causing him! If he were to die young from all the heart palpitations this meddling was sure to give him — he’d vow to haunt her endlessly for eternity.
Because coercing the girl that he… had very strong feelings for… into kissing him would not bode well on his conscience. Or his ego. Or his delicately constructed sense of self-worth. In fact it would rather bruise him if she were to kiss him out of some sort of misplaced obligation.
No matter how heavenly he knew it would probably feel.
Sebastian could feel himself literally teetering on the brink of perilous precipice; between what he could do next… but also what he should most definitely not do next.
This was all feeling too loud and too radical for him to bear. How did kissing her suddenly factor into this equation?
… But as if by wicked instinct, his gaze dropped down onto the curve of her lips — and he absolutely loathed himself for it.
Gods, wouldn’t it be nice to kiss her?
(Another one of those absurd, intrusive thoughts of his.)
He was ready to laugh it off. Tell her that it was just a silly little old thing. Some outdated conventions. They didn’t have to go through with it. In fact, they could spare themselves the embarrassment and never speak of this ever again if she willed it so.
To his surprise, she replied almost matter-of-factly:
“… Supposedly if we don’t kiss, we’d be doomed to 100 years of misfortune.”
Like a slow sinful poison, he felt his body go numb in shock. Like a match to a barren wick, he felt his mouth go dry. Had he heard right?
Was she implying what he thought she was implying?
Almost cautiously, he replied, “We wouldn’t want that.”
It was true, he wouldn’t want that. 100 years of misfortune wouldn’t do him any good in trying to court the girl before him.
“Not at all,” She said as she nodded.
So it was only logical that they had to kiss.
“100 Years is… a long time,” He rationalised.
He almost couldn’t believe the words tumbling out of his mouth.
“A lifetime long,” She agreed.
Forget what he was saying — why was she encouraging this?
“And I suppose it is tradition,” He justified.
“Right. Tradition.” She clarified.
When she’d put it like that, it seemed entirely sensible. Almost as if doing anything else would be totally irrational. Sebastian normally skewed towards irrationality, because what was life without a little bit of unreasonableness…
But if she was readily weaving this enticing thread of logic for him — he would obediently surrender to her pull.
Sebastian waited for the punchline. The cruel joke. For her to say she was, “just kidding, of course!”
But even after what felt like aeons of silence — it never came. He wondered if she could read him. If she knew that he was all unbridled nerves and anticipation in this lanky body of his. All he saw was her, looking straight at him. No distractions, just a firm sense of purpose. And he wondered what was behind her eyes. Was she nervous? Because he was fucking nervous.
Why didn’t she look nervous?
A lull fell over them, and it was as if they’d reach an impasse. As if it were a silent agreement between two precarious souls.
“So I guess-” He began.
“Right.”
He supposed that was confirmation enough. For him to press on. To take the next step.
But what was the next step? This didn’t come with a fucking manual. How was he to go about kissing the girl that had plagued his every waking thought now that she was all but offering it?
He supposed he just had to take it.
So he did.
He took a daring step forward, and he swore that he could see a slight tremor in her throat. It was tiny, almost imperceivable, but honest to god, it helped him breathe a little. Because it meant that maybe she wasn’t so unbothered by this treacherous proximity as she appeared to be.
When he looked at her closely and scrutinised every crinkle in her eye, he saw a sliver of something he hadn’t seen before. Something familiar. Like the flicker of a yearning and restlessness he saw so often in himself. In the rounds of her cheeks, he could make out the outline of a growing blush, betraying the effect his closeness had on her.
With every passing second he inched closer, Sebastian could feel something growing inside him. Breaking out in the pit of his stomach like turbulent waves. A feeling he knew would only be quelled if he managed to get his mouth onto hers. Until he knew what every inch of her lips tasted like.
Was he really about to do this?
Sebastian was still holding onto the dishes in the sink. But fuck the dishes. He didn’t have the time to put that shit down. He’d carry the weight of every stupid dish, cup or ceramic bowl if it meant that he’d be able to touch her.
“Merry Christmas Sebastian.” She whispered.
And what a lovely whisper it was.
Before her hands ever touched him, her voice did. It embraced him everywhere; his arms, down his spine, even in the unknown depths of his heart. He felt his chest melt a little with something warm and soft and so, so pleasant. In this moment, he allowed himself to believe it. Believe that maybe he could be in love with her. Maybe he was already knee-deep in it; buried thousands and thousands of feet below the weight of his burdensome feelings.
And that this love wouldn’t kill him. It wouldn’t hurt him. It wouldn’t be wrong or scary or restricting.
He could love her and still breathe.
She was so close. Just one more step and they’d meet.
Fuck his ego. Fuck his conscience. Fuck his brittle his self-worth. He would fucking kiss her like his entire measly existence depended on it.
It was just on the tip of his tongue. It was right there for the taking. It was—
“Hey, Dessert’s ready—”
— Ominis?
As quickly as heaven had opened its gates, it had also come crashing down like a train wreck.
Like a brutal punch to the gut, Sebastian was thrown back into a sobering reality. Ominis’s sharp voice had popped the fragile little bubble they’d temporarily created.
Wasn’t the universe just fucking cruel?
And as much as he loved his best friend, he had never ever hated him more. Of all the moments that he could’ve chosen to walk in on… this was what he decided on?
Silence hung in the air. The shadow of something that almost happened lingered like a half-spoken sonnet, begging to be finished. Sebastian searched for the right words, searched for clarity in the fog, searched for the will to string his thoughts together — but it all eluded him.
“...Did I interrupt something—”
“N-No!” “Nope.”
Her face was flushed crimson. His was probably no better.
Thank Merlin, Ominis was blind.
As if by magic, they were now a whole metre apart. Now that Sebastian had a taste of closeness, this distance starved him. It felt like a cruel, deprivation
A heavy silence settled between them, with each second stretching out for what felt like an eternity. Ominis hadn’t seen them, per se — but Sebastian had a feeling that he could sense that he had just ruined… something significant.
Love might not have killed him, but this painfully awkward silence would.
"Right... well. Solomon asked me to get you both," Ominis finally broke the silence, his tone tinged with clear discomfort.
The ambiance dissipated, the moment was gone. Replaced by the ordinary state of affairs they were forced to return to.
“We’ll—” Sebastian began to say with a slight croak, before clearing his throat, “We’ll be right there.”
He couldn’t bear to look at her as he rushed out to the living room, where normalcy awaited him.
There went his bloody chance.
“Ominis, my plan!” Anne said in a rushed whisper as she pulled the blonde boy into an alcove of the small Sallow residence.
He looked back at her guiltily, with only the slightest hint of a grumble, “Well you could’ve told me about the plan ahead of time…”
“We were so close!” Anne said
“I’m sorry…”
——
Notes
GOSH I apologise so deeply for how atrociously long this chapter took!!! It took me so long, even though I've literally had the outline for it from the very early stages of this fic!
But work did not kill me and I have a new chapter for yall <3
I made sure to sprinkle all the good tropes like, the classic wearing his sweater trope, the oh is that a mistletoe? trope, the almost kiss trope!!! AHHHH I hope you guys like it :)
My HC that the only person that can tame Ominis' outta pocket sass is Anne.
I'm so sorry if you guys have been waiting, and if you're still reading THANK YOU SO MUCH!!!!
Shoutout to the very very lovely, @wt-fxck @deliciouslyferal @sonicranger1 @spaceyaceface @eleanorstaghart @ithinkweallsing @somethingiswrongwithme @tlnyjoong @musicbecky @oliviajdjarin @intheshadowofthegame @weeb-shitss FOR ALL THE COMMENTS AND THE TAGS!!!!
i still wanna know what they’re talking about here
I am alive and will be WRITING THIS WEEKEND!!!
Hiiii friends
Work is absolutely kicking my ass. But I’m slowly trudging along with AKL chapter 4.
IT WILL BE WITH YOU SOON!!! Sorry for the delay, thanks always for bearing with <3
Also just got another amazing request from an anon omg. It will take me awhile but it’s suchhhh a good one <3
Some snippets from AKL chapter 4.
I LOVE writing sassy Ominis and mischief Anne.
Okay the more I think about it the less I can see Sebastian becoming an Auror
Not because he has a problem with authority, I think that’s just him being a 15 year old boy who’s stuck in a real shitty situation.
He’s just too morally grey to ever feel comfortable arresting someone and imprisoning them in a literal torture chamber if he didn’t believe they really deserved it.
Would not want to feel like he’s following in Solomon’s footsteps
The Trauma™️ along with feeling as though he needs to atone, he just wants to feel safe and calm.
The kid is a NERD. I feel like this aspect of him gets lost some in the fandom, he loves to learn and research and understand everything he can.
All of this being said, here are some careers I could see Sebastian enjoying:
Healer (this is my personal HC, and what I always imagine Sebastian going on to do). Think about all of the information he learned and retained in his search for a cure for Anne, and doing healing work would make him feel like he’s redeeming himself after Solomon and all the events after his fifth year.
Hit Wizard, this one is iffy for me but makes more sense to me than an Auror because he could pick and choose his cases based on his own idea of worthiness
Curse Breaker, the kid is smart and enjoys an intellectual challenge just as much as a physical one. This would also make sense again from all of the information he found when searching for a cure for Anne.
Professor and/or Researcher, again the kid loves to learn and understand and would love to eagerly share his knowledge. (Maybe even work in the Department of Mysteries?)
I LOVED "it takes a disaster!!!" It's the exact type of fic I look for lol
Do you think you'll upload it to ao3? I'd love to add it to my bookmarks!
AHHH THANK YOU SO MUCH! I'm so glad you liked it!!!! 🥺 <3 I also love a bit of seemingly unrequited romance/angst lol
I wasn't thinking to, but that's a good shout! I'll probably add it to AO3 sometime this week :)
we AAAALLLL love protective seb x hurt mc but i present you: hurt seb x protective mc. seb gets a pretty rough injury while they’re out fighting poachers or something and mc’s ancient magic IMMEDIATELY flares up and reduces all the poachers to literal ash before rushing to help seb,,,,
“how did you—?” “Don’t worry about it.”
IS THIS THE PLOT TO AN EVENTUAL IT TAKES A DISASTER PT 2??
Because we know that MC would literally fight to the ends of the hogwarts legacy map earth for that BOY
I just discovered your blog from your fake dating story and I am in love with everything you have written! I would like to request one if you are open to writing it. Sebastian and f!mc’s relationship is at a standstill after a big fight. Rumors floating around the castle that they have broken up, a student who fancies MC takes his chance to flirt and ask MC on a date. MC hesitantly, like she’s unsure, claims she’s with Sebastian. He does not believe her, perhaps because MC does not believe it herself. Possessive!Sebastian appears.
AHHHH thank you so so much, you're wonderful anon! This was such a fun one to write---I really enjoy Possessive!Seb haha, I hope you enjoy it! Thanks so much for the request!
Sebastian Sallow x f!MC/Reader
Word Count: 1.7k
Warnings: Possessive!Seb, Andrew Larson being rude, making out lol
She and Sebastian had fought before, but never like that.
What made it worse is she knew it was all her fault. It had started out like many of their disagreements—she had been late coming back from the Forbidden Forest, and was a bit banged up. Sebastian, as always, had waited up for her. He’d made a habit of doing that, always telling her he’d be unable to sleep until she was safe. Most of the time, she would let him worry over her for a few minutes, heal whatever wounds the Wiggenweld had missed, and then kiss goodnight. But that night, everything had been too much.
She had failed to save the puffskeins she’d been fighting to save. A quick cast of Depulso had caught her just at the worst moment, sending her flying back into a cliffside. As she crumpled to the ground, the poachers had grabbed their loot and aparated away. So when Sebastian fussed over her—and that time she didn’t even have anything worthwhile to show for it—she snapped.
How she wished she could take back the words she’d said to him. What she wouldn’t give for a time turner to slap some sense into her past self. She accused him of being too controlling, of telling her what she could and couldn’t do (that was completely false—he’d always let her go where and when she wanted, as long as he let her know). Then he fired back that perhaps he’d allowed her too much freedom, had she been hit so hard she’d lost her bloody mind? It only escalated from there. It ended with her storming out of the room, without even a hint of remorse.
Oh, how she felt it now.
It hit her as she curled up in bed, staring up at the ceiling as her anger cooled. The tears flooded her alongside the regret. She had said some horrible things. What if he couldn’t forgive her?
She didn’t sleep that night. Or the night after that. Or any for the several days that followed.
Because when she had gone to apologize that morning, she… couldn’t. It wasn’t that she was stubborn or wanted him to say sorry first—it was fear that he wouldn’t accept her apology, that she had permanently ruined things between them. Maybe that fight would finally make him realize how much better he could do than her.
So she didn’t approach him. And he didn’t approach her. For an agonizing week they went on in silence. She could swear she felt his eyes on the back of her head, but when she turned, he would be talking to someone else. For as much as she stared, longing to see that lop-sided smirk she knew so well, he didn’t turn her way. It was awful.
And now there were rumors—rumors that she didn’t know what to do with. People began to whisper that they’d broken up, that the Hero of Hogwarts was back on the market. It made her sick to her stomach. She didn’t want to be with anyone but Sebastian, and the thought of them not being together—well, it tore her apart.
What made it even worse was Andrew Larson trying to take his chance with her.
Throughout the week, he began to make sly remarks in class about how wonderfully she had performed the spells. He walked with her, even offering to carry her books, which she nearly scoffed at. Every time he said something like that, she couldn’t help but glance at Sebastian, seeing if it would garner any reaction from him. He never said anything or stepped in, but she could see the way his jaw tensed—it gave her a bit of hope that perhaps there was still something there for them.
It all came to a head nine days after her and Sebastian had fought. She was in the courtyard, studying—normally she would have gone to the library, but Sebastian was usually there that time in the evening. She read through the pages of her textbook, trying her best to get lost in the pages. Evidently, it worked; she hadn’t heard Andrew Larson’s footsteps as he had approached her.
The clearing of his throat startled her from her reading, and she looked up at him. There was a smile on his face–-one that filled her with much more dread than it should have.
“Can I help you?” she asked.
“In a way, I suppose,” he said.
She frowned. “Well then, what is it?”
“I was wondering if you would join me on a trip to Hogsmeade tomorrow.”
Her heart dropped. She hadn’t once played into his attempts at flirting—never showed any sign she felt that way towards him, yet he still had the gall to ask her out?
She stood, starting to gather her things to get out of there as quickly as possible. “No, thank you, Andrew.”
“And why not?”
“You know full well I—” her throat felt suddenly dry. Her voice came out weaker as she continued. “I’m… with Sebastian.”
Andrew let out a laugh, one that made her stomach churn. “Oh, please. You two haven’t even looked at each other in a week. It couldn’t be more clear you’ve gone your separate ways. I promise I’m an excellent candidate to get you back into dating.”
“We haven’t broken up,” she said. But it sounded like she was trying to reassure herself more than anything. “We just…” Just what, she thought.
Andrew seemed to read her thoughts and made a strange attempt at a reassuring smile. “It’s alright. I promise I can help that little broken heart of yours.”
“You won’t be doing anything of the sort, Larson.”
She whirled around toward the familiar voice. Her heart fluttered at the expression on his face. He wore a deep scowl, lip curled slightly from disgust. His eyes were dark and menacing.
It was pretty hot.
His wand was clenched in his hand, and she couldn’t really find it in herself to tell him to calm down.
Andrew didn’t seem nearly as phased as he should have been. She had seen looks like that cross Sebastian’s face before, and it never ended well for the person on the receiving end of his fury. Instead of running like a sensible man might do, Andrew stood his ground, arms crossed. “Oh really? And why is that, Sallow?”
“Because she’s mine.”
The way he practically growled the word sent shivers down her spine.
Andrew narrowed his eyes. “She didn’t seem too sure about that just a moment ago. Maybe she needs the chance to see what she’s missing out on.”
And suddenly Sebastian’s dark and angry eyes were on her, and he was stepping closer, and some instinct in the back of her head warned her to run, but of course she won’t, not from Sebastian, never from Sebastian—and then his lips crashed into hers, his hands on either side of her face, and she felt like she would combust on the spot—
He’s kissed her before, too many times to count. There kisses stolen between classes, when he insisted he just could resist her lovely smile, kisses in private, where he let his lips linger and part until they were overtaken with laughs and smiles . Kisses that were passionate, hungry, leaving her aching with a strange need. None of them held a flame to this.
Her arms lift to wrap around the back of his neck, pulling herself closer to the heat of his mouth. One of his hands left her face to pull her hips to his, and he took advantage of the gasp that parted her lips, letting himself taste her even more deeply.
It was ghastly. Indecent. Provocative. Heavenly.
She was barely aware of all the students that cleared themselves out of the courtyard (though not after a good moment of gawking at the sight). Andrew Larson stomped away among them. Finally, the pair broke apart, gasping desperately for the shared air between them. It was a good few minutes before either of them had the mind to talk.
“I’m sorry,” Sebastian said. His voice was husky in a way that made her want to reclaim his lips, but she knew she could wait until they got some things settled.
“You better not be referring to that kiss,” she breathed out. “Because that was… it was…”
He chuckled, placing a soft kiss on the tip of her nose, a stark contrast to their ministrations mere moments ago. “Oh believe me, I’m not sorry for that one bit. It seemed to get the message to Larson pretty well, too.”
She blushed, the realization that they had more than just a handful of witnesses to that scene hitting her. But she shook the thought. “Then you better not be saying sorry for our stupid fight, either.”
Sebastian’s brows furrowed. “Am I not supposed to apologize for fighting?”
“Not when you did nothing wrong,” she sighed, burying her head in the crook of his neck. “It was all my fault. I was frustrated and I took it out on you. I’m sorry.”
“I still could have come to talk to you this whole time,” he said. “But I didn’t. Thought maybe you’d be better off without me.”
She nearly laughed at that. “That’s silly. I was thinking you were better off without me.”
“Then maybe we can agree that both of those thoughts are ridiculous.”
She pulled her face up to look at him. “I love you, Sebastian. And I promise if we ever fight again, I’m not going to be an idiot.”
“I’m not sure I can promise the same.”
She laughed, and he grinned at the sound. One week had been much too long without it.
He bit his lip a bit. “I um… I’m sorry I sort of… lost control over Larson.” His gaze trailed away from hers.
She blushed. “Don’t be. It was hot.”
His eyes widened as they met hers once again. “Hot?”
She gave a small nod. “Yes. What was it you said? I’m yours?”
His grip on her tightened as he grinned down at her. “And don’t you forget it.”
“I think I could use another reminder, if you don’t mind.”
He didn’t mind at all.
🚨ALSO TO THE ANON THAT JUST SENT ME A REQUEST!!!!🚨
(Hopefully you see this)
I am still taking requests! But I have a few others and the next chap of A Knowing Look to get through. Plus work is a little busy at the momet so it might take me a while but your request is in my hands and I will get to it!!!
omg thank you for all the love on It Takes a Disaster!!!!
Just wanted to say a special thanks to @ithinkweallsing and @musicbecky again for sending in the request! I genuinely had so much fun with it and I'm so glad you guys liked it <3
Also thank you @lilac-crown @smilesworldsposts @eleanorstaghart @snickette @spaceyaceface @thebrookemunson @yourrandomravenclaw @lilac-vapor @scariusaquarius @simply-slytherin for all the lovely comments + reblog comments!!!!!!!
I'm so glad I could bring yall the feels with protective/overly flirty Seb! HE'S THE BEST!
Whoops! I said last week that I was going to update A Knowing Look weekly, but that isn't exactly going to plan at the moment! Unfortunately, work is hitting me in full force - sooooo I'll probably have chapter 4 out closer to the end of this week!
But the good news is I have the outline and like 40% of the chapter done lol.
I'm also working on requests, I have 2 on the back burner which will be written soon too.
For anyone waiting, TYTY for bearing with :)
xxxx gruff
girl the way i RAN when i saw you asking for requests as a break from a knowing look!!! if youre down to maybe do something like hurt comfort vibes? with sebastian x MC? like mayhaps they’re fighting and MC gets hurt and protective Sebastian comes out? literally in love with everything you’ve written!!! you’re amazing! <3
I was meant to write a drabble but somehow this became a NOVEL?! Good lord. I really wanted to do it justice!!! I hope you guys still enjoy it!!!
It takes a disaster
Pairing: Sebastian Sallow x F!Reader Word Count: 5k Contains: Fluff, angst, making out!!! Requested: The lovely @ithinkweallsing and @musicbecky had similar requests about protective Seb x hurt MC so I combined both :)
Summary:
“And why didn’t you think to tell me that you were struck by a bloody unforgivable curse before you fell lifelessly onto the fucking floor!” He yelled. She winced at the loudness of his voice. “Do you have any idea what it’s like to watch the love of your life almost die in your fucking arms?” His deafening voice echoed through the chambers of the hospital wing. She stared at him, mouth agape. Sorry, was she dreaming? What was that he just said?
It takes a disaster
When she first resigned to the pitiful fact that she was very likely in love with Sebastian Sallow, she accepted her fate. Doomed to suffer in an unrequited love she held for her best friend.
Merlin, it was such a cliché.
Honestly, she would have laughed at herself if it didn’t also feel so pathetically miserable.
Somewhere along the way, amid catacombs and restricted sections and ancient relics, she found herself becoming dissatisfied with just friendship. And before she could even catch herself, she had already fallen. Buried ten feet underground by the weight of her own despicable, cavernous feelings.
Because they’d been best friends for long enough for her to know that Sebastian Sallow flirted like his livelihood depended on it. If courting witches was a sport, he’d be a professional. It came to him as naturally as breathing.
That was why Cressida Blume battered her eyelashes so feverishly everytime he was near. And why Samantha Dale had been so Goddamn adamant on being her potions partner, so she could siphon hints on how best to charm the Slytherin for herself.
And why she would never entertain the idea that any of Sebastian’s pretty words could be anything more than lip service.
So she went out of her way to find reasons to keep herself busy. Taking jobs and doing favours for townsfolk in the vicinity, so that she wouldn’t have to sit with her own feelings. Or Sebastian himself. Hoping that by the time it came for them to leave Hogwarts, that she would find peace and leave her feelings for him in the deepest depths of the castle.
The distance would help. It just had to.
Unfortunately for her, when she had said that she was heading to the poacher camp up in the Poidsear coast by her lonesome, Sebastian insisted that he absolutely had to come along.
“Don’t be daft. Of course I have to come with you. Who else is going to swoop in when your sorry arse needs saving?” He teased.
She was almost offended, “I don’t need a babysitter, Sebastian.”
“Not a babysitter,” he clarified, “A knight in shining armor,” with a dashingly flirtatious smile.
She felt her heart flutter, and cursed his annoyingly perfect fluffy hair for it. What business did it have looking so attractive? Honestly, the cheek of these Slytherin boys to say such rousing things.
Ominis, Sebastian and herself had been lazing in the grass in front of the main school grounds. But with a deft wave of his hand Seastian beckoned over his broom, and it zipped obediently over.
“Come on. Let’s go.” Sebastian said easily.
“What? Right now?” She replied in disbelief.
“Well, I don’t see anything better to do. Do you?”
From beside him, Ominis piped up annoyed, “Um, excuse me. Did we not agree that we needed to finish our group project today so as to not suffer the wrath of Sharp’s horrid temper?”
Silently, she thanked Ominis for the diversion and prayed Sebastian would take it.
“Like I said. Nothing better to do.” Sebastian reiterated shamelessly.
Ominis rolled his eyes, “Absolute moron you are. Whatever. Take him off my hands for all I care.”
Well that didn’t go at all the way she hoped.
“But I’ve… not even stocked up on my potions.” She said weakly.
Sebastian wasn’t having it.
“Come on, it’s just a routine poacher clear out! I’ve got a couple of Wiggenwelds on me. You know it’s going to be a cakewalk for the both of us.”
She could never say no to him. Not when he looked at her like that. She imagined that most girls couldn’t either. An ugly, decrepit feeling bubbled up in the pit of her stomach. But she willed herself to push the unhelpful thought down and out of sight.
“Fine.” She caved with a haughty flip of her hair, “But try to keep up. I don’t want to have to take care of you out there.”
In a ridiculously exaggerated display of chivalry, he offered her his hand and led her onto the broom with a coy smile.
“Ladies first.”
This boy was going to be the death of her. The ride to Poidsear would all but confirm that.
Sebastian had insisted that she sit in front of him to steer — and for the life of her, she couldn’t understand how she had willingly agreed to put herself in this position. His breath was right in the crook of her neck, and his warm hands were wrapped all too tightly around her waist. Did he really think that she could steer like this? She was appalled at how totally inconsiderate he was by being so oblivious to her feelings.
She could hardly hear her own thoughts — not even the intrusive ones — let alone focus on the fly.
Was he doing this on purpose? Because it was annoying.
The singularly, most vexing thing he could do in fact. She had a mission to concentrate on. She didn’t need to be sidetracked. She hadn’t even wanted him and his distracting face to come along in the first place.
“Merlin. Hold me any tighter and I might burst, Sebastian.” She tried her best to make it sound casual. With the light cadence of a joke, and not the high stakes affair it felt like.
“Well, I can’t risk having you falling to an untimely death under my watch. I’d never hear the end of it from Ominis. Or Samantha. For killing her potions partner at such a crucial time in the academic year,” He joked.
His tone was teasing, but she hated that his words sounded so… carefree. Completely unbothered. It bruised her heart more than she liked to admit, but it hurt her to know that he probably thought that this was the same as being in close proximity to Anne.
And why the bloody hell did he have to mention Samantha Dale at a time like this? Unprompted and all. Teenage boys really had no tact. If that had been a glimpse into Sebastian’s mind, she didn’t want to see it. Lock it up and throw away the keys and unleash it into the depths of the black sea to never be found.
If she just ignored it, and never faced it head on, maybe her heart would break a little bit softer.
“Right.” She replied curtly, willing the dejection she felt to go away.
“What? Did I say something wrong?”
“No.”
He paused in contemplation, before declaring, “You’re upset.”
He had said it so matter of factly she almost couldn’t disagree with him. Almost. She cursed herself for not being able to hide the bitterness in her voice better. She cursed him for noticing this of all things.
“Don’t be silly. I’m not.” She retorted harshly.
When the words left her mouth, she quickly regretted them. She felt guilty for how unnecessarily rude it sounded. But she couldn’t talk about this. There was objectively no good way to explain why she seemed so irrationally bothered without emotionally vomiting her feelings onto him.
But before she could apologise, he chose to let it go.
And she didn’t know if she felt relieved or even more devastated.
The rest of their journey to Poidsear was endured in silence. When they finally arrived, they landed just at the precipice of the poacher camp. It was time to get serious, she mentally chided herself. There was simply no time to torment herself with such frivolous nonsense.
They kept out of sight behind a mountain of crates next to a tent. Making sure to stay hidden, she briskly surveyed the scene. She could see from the corner of her eye, a family of hippogriffs chained in cages by the Eastern front. But getting to them would be no easy feat; the area was littered with Ashwinders at every corner.
“God. There’s more of them than I thought.” She whispered to herself.
“Worried? How very unlike you.” Sebastian raised a brow in response.
“Not at all. It’s just you would think that these degenerates would have more productive things to do with themselves than taking magical creatures as prisoners.” She whispered with a scoff.
She had not even one ounce of respect for the Ashwinders, especially those of the poaching variety. Those who made a nefarious career out of hunting innocent, majestic creatures for blood sport were the worst of them.
To her surprise, when she turned to look at Sebastian, he was looking straight at her with an enigmatic smile.
And then suddenly, she felt self-conscious.
“What?” She whispered nervously.
Sebastian murmured warmly, “This is a little nostalgic is it not?”
“How so?”
“You. Me. The exhilarating thrill of getting caught at any moment. Feels like fifth year doesn’t it?” His voice was lower than usual, quieter, with a hint of something dastardly alluring.
It made her heart skip an alarming amount of beats and her skin shiver at the sound of it. She felt an outrageously girlish impulse to snog him and hex him and run far, far away from him all at once. What she would give for him to have a taste of his own medicine. Even if he wasn’t in love with her, maybe she still could grab him by the collar and kiss him silly until his lips were bruised.
Maybe that would finally fluster him.
Because by God, he deserved to be put in his place for all the bloody grief he unknowingly gave her.
He was looking at her so affectionately, and that was just so uncalled for. Honestly, she didn’t know how he managed to flirt so skilfully even in the face of imminent danger. In the near vicinity of bloodthirsty dark wizards. If she wasn’t so conflicted by it all she would be impressed. She imagined that Sebastian Sallow could probably flirt with Death himself and get away with it.
Perhaps that would be a rather useful quality in an Auror. Perhaps, when they were back in the safety of the castle, she would suggest it as a fitting career path for him—
“Look what we have here. A little far from Hogwarts aren’t we?”
She felt her blood freeze over at the sound of the new voice. Sebastian stiffened. A sinister chill ran up her spine.
When she turned, she was greeted by the menacing smile of an Ashwinder, cloaked in shadows. And almost as if the Hermes had struck her himself, the girl wonder retaliated at reckless speeds and pointed her wand with venomous hostility at the dark wizard in front of them.
Fuck. She cursed internally. Her guard had been irresponsibly down. She hadn’t even heard him approach them.
Sebastian probably sensed her panic, and squeezed her hand twice.
Once to comfort her, the second to ask her to follow his lead.
Raising his hands up in mock surrender, Sebastian said sardonically with a wry smile “Sir, we were just passing by the area. We didn’t know that this was private property. Terribly sorry for the intrusion. If you allow us, we’ll be on our way now.”
The Ashwinder scoffed, “Save it kid, I know exactly who you two meddlesome brats are.”
“Oh well that’s unfortunate.” Sebastian said patronisingly.
Her grip on her wand tightened. She wasn’t entirely sure where he was going with this, but she knew that she had to be ready.
“Why’s that?” The Ashwinder asked with a laugh.
“Because that means I have to do this.”
And suddenly, with a swift motion, Sebastian lunged forward with his wand. And almost as if by blind, brazen instinct, her own hands followed suit.
“Confringo!”
“Expelliarmus!”
“Protego!”
Red, green, and blue. The colours of their spells cackled at lightning speeds against the howling wind.
But soon enough their commotion caused a ruckus, and it became an army against two measly bodies.
“Shit!” Sebastian cursed under his breath.
And frankly, she had to give it to them to their credit, these Ashwinders proved to be pretty formidable adversaries. They moved faster than the others did. And their spells missed her more narrowly than they normally did. But still, actually hitting her was the aim. Close enough wasn’t good enough, and she was determined to make sure that they would never achieve it.
She’d make sure of it — they didn’t call her the girl wonder for nothing.
Spells collided and echoed around her, the acrid scent of fire filling her nostrils. If peril were a smell, this is what she imagined that it would smell like.
And in the midst of the chaos, without a surge of power erupted from one of the Ashwinders. Like a strike straight out of God’s hand — with a single, severe flash of light — a calamitous spell was unleashed, enveloping the camp grounds in a sheathe of blinding white.
And when the light became less blinding, she found herself separated from Sebastian.
Panic welled up within her as she searched the battlefield, her heart pounding in her chest.
"Sebastian!" She called out.
Where was Sebastian?
Fuck. That wasn’t good. She needed to find Sebastian.
Like insidious tendril vines, fear crept into her veins. Yet she willed the anxiousness in her brain to focus; willed it to calm down. Sebastian was a capable wizard. He could handle a few pesky Ashwinders.
Just as capable as she was.
Because with a flick of her wrist, shields shattered and hexes were deflected. With every spell she cast, the wind sang as her curses hit bodies, like a force of nature answering her call. One by one Ashwinders fell under the weight of her unyielding assault.
But then a piercing hex sliced right through her defences.
Her protego shattered, and she was thrown backward into a mess of limbs onto the ground.
“Crucio!”
The sound of the spell sent chills down her spine. It brought her back to the scriptorium. It brought her back to a shadow of Sebastian that she had been trying to forget.
But before she could run, scream, dive or react — it reached her.
And just as torturously as it had the very first time she endured it, pain erupted through her body as she was thrown backward, limbs contorting as she crumbled in agony onto gritty soil. Back then, it had felt as if lightning had struck every single nerve ending in her body. This time it felt like she was burning under a flame that was twice as brutal.
The pain was relentless. Her mind screamed for respite, for any brief release from this torture. She clawed at the ground, gripping her nails deep into the dirt, as if seeking solace in the earth itself. But there was no escape. No reprieve.
Through the haze of pain, she caught glimpses of the Ashwinder that had casted the curse. Even through her blurry vision, she could see that they were gloating. Content at how they had reduced her to nothing more than a writhing, broken vessel.
And God, that pissed her off immensely.
If they could sense the literal thunder in her veins, she wondered if they would be so cavalier?
She didn’t think so.
Through gritted teeth; through sheer determination, she struggled onto her feet with her body shaking in defiance. Summoned the last remnants of her ancient magic, her wand trembling in her shaky hand. A surge of energy flowed through her veins. The air above the tips of her fingers crackled with raw power as she channeled her magic, focusing it into a singularly devastating spell.
And when it hit the Ashwinder, it eviscerated them in waves.
In between all the fighting and screaming and surviving, she didn’t remember much of the details.
But all of a sudden, it was silent.
And all of the sudden, it was just her standing alone in plumes of dust.
When the air finally settled down, she felt herself start to cave. The adrenaline had done its job and was quickly leaking out of her blood stream. As if she had exerted and drained every last ounce of her spirit and was on the verge of collapse.
Was it just her, or were the skies starting to fade?
The pain in her chest was still excruciating. This cruciatus curse felt different from the one that Sebastian had casted on her before.
This one was lingering.
Like it was clawing onto her heart and gripping onto it in a chokehold with a resentful vengeance. Despite having just won, she didn’t have a spare moment to feel relieved. The pain was quickly growing and air couldn’t seem to reach her lungs fast enough.
But Sebastian… Where was Sebastian? The panic began to rumble within her. She had foolishly let her own guard down, and let him out of her sight. She mustered what little energy she had left and moved her head frantically in search of him.
How could she ever forgive herself if she let him die?
But when she saw a figure barreling head first towards her, even through blurry eyes and the crackle in the depths of her tired limbs, she knew that it was him. And like an oasis in the blistering desert, the comfort she felt from seeing his face was a brief solace to the pain.
If this was where she was destined to meet her end, she hazily deliberated, at least she could draw her last breath in peace knowing that he was safe.
(Not to be dramatic or anything.)
When Sebastian finally caught up to her, he laughed and bursted out breathily, “Merlin… Whatever you and your ancient magic did back there was insane.”
He was safe, and that was all that mattered. She didn’t have the energy anymore. Not for a conversation, let alone banter. She needed to preserve her last scraps of her battered stamina to make it back to the castle and patch herself up in solitude.
And one thing was for certain: Sebastian could not know.
“I think we managed pretty well.” He said with a tired smile.
“Yeah,” she replied breathily, “W-we did good.”
She sounded a mess. She hoped that he wouldn’t notice.
To her dismay, the look on his face immediately switched into that of deep concern.
He interrogated hurriedly, “What wrong? You sound a little off. Are you hurt?”
Everything was wrong. The discomfort that gripped her chest was getting worse with every passing second. Standing was starting to become too taxing of an undertaking for her.
But needless to say, she didn’t want another thing to worry about, and Sebastian would always make an unnecessarily big fuss anytime she was hurt. Even if it was just a minuscule scratch. He was always too distraught; too tender. It was one of the things she adored most about him.
And she absolutely loathed him for it.
So her stubbornness was persuaded that suffering in silence was the easier of two fates.
Indignantly, she retorted, “How rude. I’ll have you k-know I’m perfectly f-fine.”
Her words were starting to slur, not that she noticed. But Sebastian clearly had. Assertively, he grabbed her by the wrist and pulled her towards him.
“You’re not fine.” He declared demandingly.
As he frantically searched her eyes, arms, back, legs for signs of what was wrong, she found herself nuzzled in the nook of his chest. She felt her willpower wither slightly in his flustered hands.
In the shallow breaths that she took, she could smell him. The musk of pinewood and sputtering fireplaces and late nights drifting in the restricted section. An aromatic cocktail that was overwhelmingly intoxicating.
Now she was getting angry. And drowsy. And dizzy. Why couldn’t Sebastian tell that he was being so selfish by being so considerate? He needed to stop touching her so carelessly. She was lightheaded enough as it is, she didn’t need his excessive gentleness to add fuel to the flames of her absurd delusions.
But maybe if she just closed her eyes and rested for this brief moment. Sebastian would take the hint and just leave her be. Maybe all she needed was a quick lie down and he would see that she was perfectly fine.
“Oh fuck, there’s so much blood— hey, hey!”
She could see Sebastian calling out her name, but she couldn't hear it. And soon enough she realised, she wasn’t fighting it anymore. And soon enough, Sebastian was no longer in sight. Soon enough, she found herself alone in a quiet, soothing darkness.
Something was twisting at her to give into slumber. Into solitude. Into emptiness. She vaguely remembered from one of Sharp’s more riveting lectures that when poisoned - one should always fight the urge.
But she could still feel the warmth of Sebastian’s hands on the small of her back, and the comfort of it lulled her to relinquish control. After a few ambivalent moments, drifting in and out of awareness, she surrendered to sleep.
When she woke, she was greeted by a horrendously pounding headache. She had no sense of place, but a low groaning ache in her bones. Her eyes struggled to open, but she could feel the warm sun on the tip of her nose, and the tips of her cheeks. The softness of the sun quelled a little bit of the soreness in her body.
She deduced that wherever she was, it was warm and safe. Despite the ache in her bones, there was also a weightlessness to her body. Therefore, she somehow rationalised with herself that this was very likely heaven.
Or any other religious equivalent afterlife.
She wasn’t picky. Any one would do, really.
When her bleary eyes finally pulled themselves open, the fragmented parts of her vision pieced together a faint picture. Of pristine white linen and crisply casted grey brick. A peculiar blend of sickly artificial peonies and concentrated chemicals flooded her nostrils.
Which was odd. Because she hadn’t imagined that the afterlife would feel quite so sterile.
“Fucking hell,” spoke a voice she could never not recognise, and she was shocked.
Did heaven include conjuring up a phantom Sebastian from the figment of her deepest imaginations to keep her company for the rest of eternity?
“Sebastian?”
“You’re awake.” His voice was hoarse.
When her eyes finally focused, she saw him properly. It was definitely Sebastian Sallow, the boy that had her heart leaping acres across the Hebridean seas. But in all her years of knowing and pining for him, she’d never seen him look so terrible. His hair was disheveled as if it had endured a torrid storm. His eyes were heavy and solemn, as if they had tolerated an eternity of grief.
This seemed all too real. Too visceral.
Maybe this wasn’t heaven.
“Am I dead?” She thought to confirm.
He laughed a humourless laugh.
“No. You’re in the hospital wing.”
So this was real. She was in pain because her body had been bruised like a peach.
When she finally looked around, she found herself neatly tucked into the covers of an infirmary bed. She couldn’t recall how she got here, and only remembered a few little scraps of the event that led up to Poidsear. But if she had to be certain of anything, Sebastian must’ve brought her back to the castle.
“I guess that makes sense,” She said with as much mirth as she could muster, “Heaven couldn’t be this quaint.”
Clearly Sebastian hadn’t found it funny at all, which is why she was met with silence.
As she cleared her throat, she asked, “What happened?”
For some reason, Sebastian was doing everything in his power to avoid her eye.
“An Ashwinder hit you with a modified version of the cruciatus curse. She tampered the spell and combined it with a blood poisoning hex. You… could’ve died.” He said through gritted teeth. It seemed as if he struggled to even get the words out.
In an attempt to diffuse the graveness of his tone, she made a joke.
“Unlucky. Maybe next time they try to kill me they’ll actually get it right.”
But once again, Sebastian didn’t laugh. If anything, he only got more aggrieved. She felt his grip on the edge of her bed frame tighten so fiercely, she could see his veins pop and his knuckles turn red. He was being so serious — and she was not at all used to serious Sebastian. She had only seen this side of him once or twice, and only ever because of Anne.
“Are you … upset?” She asked cautiously.
“I’m fucking furious.” He said.
She was gobsmacked.
“Why?”
Finally, he looked at her straight on and her stomach flipped at the sight of it. He looked absolutely distraught. Like the splintered shell of a boy who had been cracked open and drained dry of his will to live. Behind the hard look in his eyes, radiated something cloudy, tempestuous and devastating.
“It was my fault that we were even there.” He said
She hadn’t known that a voice could carry such grief and anger simultaneously. But Sebastian’s voice was laced with insurmountable despair. And it broke her heart irrevocably to think that she could’ve caused him so much pain.
Did he think that he was to blame?
That was ridiculous.
“I thought-” he started to say again, but his voice cracked.
I thought I lost you? I thought I’d left you for dead? She wondered if that was what he was going to say.
“Sebastian…” She finally began “It’s not-”
“And why didn’t you think to tell me that you were struck by a bloody unforgivable curse before you fell lifelessly onto the fucking floor!” He yelled.
She winced at the loudness of his voice.
“I didn’t think-”
“Do you have any idea what it’s like to watch the love of your life almost die in your fucking arms?”
His deafening voice echoed through the chambers of the hospital wing.
She stared at him, mouth agape.
Sebastian himself looked shocked by the words out of his own mouth.
Sorry, what was that he just said?
Was she dreaming? Was she hallucinating? Had Sebastian Sallow really said that he loved her? Her? Complicated, chaotic, haphazard her? Even if her brain couldn’t quite process what she was saying, her heart had certainly understood. It was battering against her ribcage so firmly that she swore it would no sooner burst out of her chest.
“You… love me?” Even as the words sat in her mouth, even as she tasted it meticulously on the edge of her tongue — she still couldn’t believe them.
With his head buried in his hands, Sebastian groaned.
Obviously that wasn’t what he had wanted to say, and that terrified the living shit out of her. He looked as if he considered going back on it. Saying that it had just been an emotional slip of the tongue.
But to her surprise, he stood firm.
“Fuck.” He cursed, “Isn’t it fucking obvious?”
His words still weren’t fully sinking in. Her brain was running so fast that it was on the verge of failing her entirely. There were so many things she wanted to ask him. Was it obvious? To who exactly? By what egregious definition? And did he expect her to just take his word and say that this little detail was always hidden in plain sight for her to find?
Then there were other more intrusive thoughts she couldn’t shake. Like what about all the girls that fawned over his every word. What about all the other girls that were softer, prettier, more endearing than her? She just hoped that whatever she chose to say, that she wouldn’t let out the intrusive ones first.
“...What about Samantha?” She blurted practically incoherently.
Oh Merlin. Why did she say that? Why was that the first thing she said to him after she had just been on the verge of death? After he had just confessed his love for her.
Never had she felt so exasperated with herself for being so dumb.
Unsurprisingly, Sebastian looked at her as if she’d just grown three heads. She also considered that maybe she had enunciated so poorly that he hadn’t understood a single thing she said. Either way, just as she was about to laugh it away - change the subject - he responded.
“... What about Samantha?”
Suddenly, she felt too shy to ask. But she knew she had to follow through.
“... You’re not in love with Samantha?” She asked meekly.
Sebastian stared at her in absolute disbelief.
“Are you crazy?” he began incredulously, “You think I fancy Samantha Dale?”
It wasn’t that crazy of a thought, she wanted to retort.
But before she could even get a word in, Sebastian bulldozed on.
“Fucking hell. I think I’ve mentioned her name all but three times in the last six years I’ve been in this castle. All I talk about is you all day everyday, which makes Ominis go absolutely livid! All you have to do is say my name and I’d stop everything at the drop of a fucking hat to do literally anything you ask for me—”
Did he know what he was saying? She wanted to scream. The feelings in her chest were so intense she feared that she might just throw up.
Could he hear the absolutely ludicrous and inconceivable things coming out of his silly mouth? Did he know what in Salazar’s name he was saying to her?
And he wasn’t even done yet.
“—I look for you in every hallway, every classroom, every corner in this bloody castle! For Merlin’s sake, I can’t even begin to fathom how you could not know that I’m stupidly love with you—”
Despite herself. Despite the stabbing pain in her chest. Despite the stitches in her lungs. She lunged her body forward and pushed her own chapped, split and desperate lips onto his.
And when their lips met — good God.
She had no idea how she had waited so long to do this.
And she hoped for his sake that Sebastian hadn’t said any of that lightly, because now that she had finally had him, she was never ever letting him out of her shaky, unpracticed hands.
At first, Sebastian had been taken aback. His mouth unmoving, eyes open in disbelief. It was as if he was observing the scene from outside of himself.
But then soon enough — he was all in, and he had his hands cupping the curve of her cheek to pull her closer to him. Soon enough, Sebastian was kissing her like he was looking for something. Pushing, pulling, scouring the shape of her mouth like she was a puzzle to be deciphered. Gripping tightly onto the sides of her waist and the small of her back like she was a prized to be possessed.
And she obliged.
Whatever he wanted to know she’d tell him. If she were a prize, she'd use every cheat every ruse in her arsenal to make sure he'd win.
She just hoped that her needy moans conveyed her willingness to be compliant in his competent hands.
Her limbs ached, her bones groaned. This kiss was too wild, too strenuous, too demanding for her worn out body. But she didn’t care. The floodgates had opened now, whether either of them knew it, and this feeling was unquenchable.
He tasted like home and aftershave and salt and all those silly peppermint candies he ate all the time. If she could fasten herself to him with an irreversible stitch, she would. If she could seal herself into a perfect mould of his arms, she would. If the shivers that raced down her spine could etch themselves permanently into her nerve endings in her skin, she’d gladly bear the mark.
In between peppered, sloppy kisses, she managed to gasp, "I'm in love with you too."
There was no time for pauses. She had no use for breathing; no use for air. She had no use for anything that didn’t include his lips.
His laugh was gravelly and tired and breathy. But it was filled with relief and tenderness all the same.
“Thank fucking god,” Sebastian murmured.
Her hands instinctively found their way to his hair, fingers tangling into the strands of his. She revelled in the texture of him. In her daydreams and her undisclosed fantasies, she had always wondered what it would feel like. Would he be as gentle as his charms implied? Or was he as abrasive as his words could be?
But despite his devouring intensity, despite how ardently he consumed her — everything about Sebastian was soft. His lips were soft. His body was soft. His hands were soft.
She leaned in to kiss him again, but he pulled back. Which immensely disappointed her. And she wasn’t shy to let it show on her face.
"Be careful. You're still recovering." He managed to get out, but it was weak.
Yes, that was true. It was very lovely and sensible of him to say.
But frankly, she couldn't give two fucks.
"I wouldn't mind dying today," she replied breathlessly, her voice laced heavily with longing.
He groaned into the edge of her mouth, "Way too soon."
She smiled wryly. Was it wicked of her to take delight in how protective he was being?
Silence hung in the air.
"Please just... just be careful next time?" he said, his voice wavering slightly.
She looked into his eyes, "I will."
With a gentle squeeze of his hand, she hoped that he knew that she truly meant it. That by definition, her feelings for him meant that her assurance was very much real. Because if not with words, she needed him to know through this gesture that she too looked for him in every inch of this castle. That she too would drop everything at his beck and call.
He squeezed her hand back in return.
Message understood?
“And as much as I’d love to keep kissing you," he whispered with a playful glint in his eye, "I would hate for Nurse Blainey to shun me from the infirmary for so shamelessly accosting one of her patients."
A soft chuckle escaped her lips, the tension easing between them. "You're right. We wouldn't want that," she replied, a fond smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.
—
A/N: This is deffo a little different from the normal soft/simpy Seb that I write. I tried to go for overly flirtatious and wildly charming Seb and a pining MC this time to shake things up!! I still think they're cuties.
Gosh, I hope you guys liked it!! I'M STILL WORKING ON OTHER REQUESTS and of course my bb A Knowing Look! They will be taking a while but I promise I will be putting my heart and soul into them.
xoxo gruff
