DISTANCE. CH. 5
Guess who?
pairing: sebastian sallow x male hufflepuff mc
genre: fluff, slowburn 𓆹𓆺
(8000 words)
worth the wait…?
Two weeks later, the shift had happened so quietly that no one had bothered to acknowledge it.
At first, it had been coincidence. Sebastian lingering after class, Ominis appearing halfway through conversations like he’d always meant to be there. Then it became convenience, shared walks through the courtyard, running into each other during free periods without it feeling accidental anymore. Now they simply sat with us at breakfast, like it had always been that way. Garreth spoke to them like they’d been friends since first year, and Diana had already corrected Sebastian’s grammar twice. No one questioned it.
The Great Hall roared with its usual morning energy when I arrived, sunlight pouring through the enchanted ceiling and scattering across goblets and plates in bright flashes. Somewhere near the Hufflepuff table, a group of second-years argued loudly about whether kneazles counted as cats.
Diana was already seated at the Ravenclaw table, calmly dissecting a piece of sausage with utensils, while Garreth sat across from her, gesturing wildly with a fork mid-explanation.
“You’re both early,” I said, sliding onto the bench beside Diana.
Garreth leaned forward immediately. “Perfect. I was just explaining my improvement to Thunderbrew Potion.”
“That sentence already concerns me.”
“It shouldn’t,” he said defensively. “It’s innovative.”
“You replaced an ingredient with something explosive.” I summarized flatly.
Diana glanced up. “Specifically, it was powdered boomslang scale.”
Garreth waved a strip of bacon for emphasis. “The reaction speed is incredible.”
“Yes,” Diana said calmly, “because it detonates.”
Before I could point out that explosive potions usually defeated their purpose, two hands suddenly slipped over my eyes, large and warm, completely blocking my vision. My brain identified the owner immediately. Sebastian. Which was deeply inconvenient, because the moment I realized it, my brain also helpfully supplied exactly what those hands felt like, warm, slightly rough along the fingers, long enough to cover half my face.
Why do I know that.
“Well?” Sebastian’s voice came from behind me, far too pleased with himself. “Guess who.”
I should answer, but instead I tilted my head slightly, like I was genuinely considering the question. Sebastian leaned closer behind me, waiting.
“Hm,” I said thoughtfully.
Garreth and Diana had gone quiet, glancing at eachother and silently judging us.
“Well?” Sebastian prompted.
“Is it,” I said slowly, “Amit?” I made sure to sound excited about it, as if I definitely knew I was correct.
The hands vanished instantly.
“…Amit?” Sebastian repeated.
I turned around to find him standing behind the bench, looking personally offended, his arms halfway raised like I had just insulted his entire bloodline.
“Of all the people,” he said, “you chose Amit.”
Garreth collapsed onto the table laughing, while Diana blinked at me.
“Wait,” she said, “how do you even know Amit?”
Sebastian folded his arms, still staring at me. “Yes. An explanation is due.”
I shrugged. “I tutored him in Herbology last year.”
Diana tilted her head. “You did?”
“Briefly,” I said. “He was convinced Venomous Tentacula responded better to encouragement.”
Garreth wheezed. “Encouragement?”
“He tried talking to it too.”
Sebastian didn’t laugh. Instead, his eyes narrowed slightly as he slid into the seat next to me. “And that’s how you recognized his hands?”
I paused. “What?”
“You said Amit,” he continued. “So clearly you know what his hands feel like.”
Garreth made a strangled noise somewhere between a laugh and a cough.
I stared at Sebastian. “When did I say I touched his hands?”
“You implied it.”
“I absolutely did not.”
“You identified him by touch. It certainly wasn’t voice. Not open for debate.”
“You asked me to guess.”
“Yes,” Sebastian said, gesturing sharply, “but Amit was a very specific guess.”
“It was the first name that came to mind.”
“That’s really not comforting.”
Garreth had fully given up pretending to eat. “This is fantastic,” he whispered.
Diana rested her chin lightly in her hand, eyes flicking between us. “More like exhausting.” She murmured.
Sebastian leaned forward slightly. “So the tutoring never required physical contact?”
I sighed and rolled my eyes. “Well, there was one point where I sensually guided him through fertilizing the plant.”
Sebastian’s brows lifted immediately.
“With his hands,” I continued. “And dirt.” with a flat tone.
Sebastian went very still. “…You did?”
I stared at him and then replied incredulously. “No.”
He furrowed his brows tapping his fingers on the table. Seemingly unimpressed by my sarcasm. “He handled the dirt himself. I spoke words. That’s typically how tutoring works.”
“And the only time we had contact,” I added calmly, “was when he shook my hand afterwards to say thank you.”
Sebastian watched me for another moment before leaning back slightly, muttering under his breath, “Hm.”
It was me furrowing my brows now. Petty much?
“Didn’t realize we had a herbalist among us,” he added, sounding just a touch too casual.
Sarcasm? What is he even mad about?
Diana immediately looked up. “Oh, he is.”
Garreth nodded. “Very much so.”
“And that’s not even the only thing he’s good at,” Diana added casually.
I closed my eyes briefly. Here we go.
Sebastian glanced back at her. “Oh?” He perked up at Diana and Garreth jumping in.
“He’s actually very good with healing charms too.”
“That is a giant exaggeration,” I said immediately.
“It isn’t,” Garreth said.
“Yes, it is.”
Diana ignored me. “In first year, he healed a bird’s wing.”
Sebastian blinked. “…You did? First year?”
“It was a small bird,” I said quickly. “And a very small wing.”
Garreth nodded enthusiastically. “Still broken.” He emphasized it to mock me.
“It was barely fractured.”
“You still fixed it,” Diana continued.
Sebastian looked between the three of us, trying to decide how seriously to take this.
“And because of that,” she added, “he got private lessons with Madam Blainey for a while.”
Sebastian turned back to me. “Private lessons?”
“For a bit,” I admitted. “Nothing major.” I quietly added.
Garreth leaned forward. “He’s being modest.”
“I’m being honest.”
“You literally practiced healing spells with the school nurse.” He really wasn’t giving up.
“For a short time.”
Diana nodded. “She said he had a steady hand.”
Sebastian’s gaze dropped briefly to my hands resting near my cup. I followed his gaze, fighting the urge to hide them. The small distance to his own pair catching my attention. Then he went quiet, something shifting behind his expression, subtle but there.
“…So how good are you now?” he asked finally, quieter than before.
The question lingered.
“At what?” I asked.
“Healing,” he said, a little more casually, though the curiosity remained. “If you were getting private lessons and all that.”
Garreth leaned back, watching. Diana glanced between us.
Before either of them could answer, Ominis arrived, sliding into the seat beside Diana with practiced ease. The moment Sebastian spoke, Ominis’s head turned slightly toward him, a brief pause that most would’ve missed. He didn’t react outwardly, but inwardly, he sighed. He knew that tone. Sebastian only sounded like that when something had caught his interest in a very particular way.
“Go on then,” Garreth said. “Tell him.”
I rubbed the back of my neck. “I mean… I’m decent. I can handle basic injuries. Small fractures. Cuts. Things like that.”
Diana snorted quietly. “That’s a very conservative summary.”
“It’s an accurate one.”
Garreth pointed his fork at Sebastian. “He always heals any of my broken bones after the quidditch matches, that’s why I can always be so thoughtlessly reckless.”
“You’re psychotic for being proud of that and seriously need to stop.” I comment sternly and then look away.
“And Professor Garlick still asks him to help sometimes if someone gets hurt in herbology..” Diana added.
“That is not a regular occurrence!” I look back towards them, now having a tint of heat on my face. They are really laying it on thick.
Sebastian watched me, thoughtful now. “Still… that’s impressive.” His thoughts seemed to shift elsewhere, not that anyone commented on it.
I shrugged, reaching for my pumpkin juice. Across the table, Ominis remained quiet, though he could practically hear the gears in Sebastian’s head turning, and he had a strong suspicion where those thoughts were heading.
Garreth broke the quiet with a satisfied sigh. “Well, he certainly has other areas he is ridiculously terrible at!”
Sebastian huffed a laugh. “Is this about flying?” He gave me a quick teasing side glance.
“Oh you’ve been familiarized with it? He’s famous for it,” Diana said. “Of course it is.” She still answered his question.
I exhaled. “How about we actually get going? You know, since we have multiple classes, which require total concentration and commitment?” I attempted to change the topic.
Sebastian made it sound like the worst attempt imaginable. “Oh yeah. I will personally work on that problem of his.”
After a few shared laughs, we got up and made our way out.
“If he crashes into another building again, I’m not helping,” Diana added casually.
“Not with me around. You see, I’m the captain-”
“That won’t help ya, mate,” Garreth cut in.
I shook my head, unable to hide the smile tugging at my face. “Can we get to class without you three annoying me for once?”
“No,” they said in unison.
I turned to Ominis. “At least you’re on my side.” I patted his shoulder.
“Don’t touch me.” he said dryly, already turning away, Diana following him toward History of Magic.
“See you later,” she called.
That left Sebastian, Garreth, and me heading toward Potions. Sebastian split off not long after, heading to the library. I didn’t let him leave without making a comment about never having seen him study before, and after a quick exchange, we parted ways.
As Garreth and I approached the dungeon classroom, he spoke casually. “He used to go to the library all the time during free periods last year.”
“Good. He’s studious,” I said. Raising a brow at Garreth, wondering why he felt the need to comment that as if it were conspiracy.
“Or,” Garreth continued, “he’s got something else in mind.”
I didn’t respond this time.
“I’m sure he’s fine,” I said eventually. “He’s… competent.”
“Sure,” Garreth muttered. We walked inside the classroom, immediately stilling and nodding at professor Sharp as a greeting.
The lesson passed without incident, mostly because I physically stopped him from turning his cauldron into a another disaster.
“You’re stifling innovation,” he complained as we walked after sorting back the recipe books into the shelves.
“I’m preserving your eyebrows.”
He continued anyway, explaining how Bloodroot potion could function as an antidote. It couldn’t. I only half-listened, my thoughts drifting. Sebastian. The library. The way he’d asked about healing. Strange.
Garreth suddenly stopped. “Hold on,” he said, jerking a thumb toward the lavatory. “I’ll be a minute.”
He was gone before I could answer. I leaned against the cold stone wall, counting distant footsteps to pass the time.
One minute.
Two.
Five.
I knocked sharply. “Garreth, if you’ve dissolved yourself, I’m not explaining that to Sharp-” No response.
I frowned-
-and my vision vanished.
Hands. Warm. Familiar. This again.
“Amit,” I said immediately, a small smirk forming.
A quiet scoff behind me. “You’re committed to that, aren’t you?”
The hands dropped. I turned to find Sebastian watching me, somewhere between amused and unimpressed.
“It was funny this morning.”
“It wasn’t.” He cocked an eyebrow undeterred.
“I enjoyed it.”
He shook his head huffing out the ghost of a laugh. “Where’s Weasley?” He inquired while looking around.
“Inside. Either alive or experimenting.” I gave the answer without giving it much thought.
He hummed once. Then, without warning—
“Come on.”
“Pardon, what?” It came out more flat and sharp than I intended.
“I said, come on.”
His hand caught my wrist, and he started walking.
“…You’re serious.”
“You said yes.”
“I said ‘Pardon, what.’” I repeated since he’s apparently delusional.
“Not talking about that.” He started but then quieted down, a smile settling on his face.
“Delirium or Psychosis?” I tossed out as he dragged me along.
His grip on my wrist didn’t loosen as he kept walking, steady and completely unbothered by my resistance. I glanced down at his hand, then back up at him, incredulous.
“This feels like human trafficking.”
“Don’t be dramatic.”
“You’re physically relocating me without consent.” I made hand gestures at passing students, trying to explain to them that I was as perplexed as they were.
“You’re walking for Merlin’s sake.” He deadpanned.
“Under duress.” I lifted a finger.
That earned the faintest hint of a reaction, a quiet breath that almost sounded like a laugh, but he still didn’t let go. We turned the corner, the corridor opening up ahead-
-and I immediately slowed, my steps dragging.
“…No.”
Sebastian didn’t even hesitate, keeping up the pace.
“No, absolutely not.” I dug my heels in this time, forcing him to feel the resistance. His grip tightened slightly in response, not enough to hurt, just enough to make it clear that stopping wasn’t an option.
“You’re taking me to the flying lawn,” I said, more urgently now, already recognizing the direction. “That’s where the brooms are.”
“Yes, proper time for that flying session.” He had a sickening smirk in his tone and I could imagine it without even having to look at him.
“No.”
“Yes.”
“I have things to do,” I added quickly, searching for anything remotely convincing.
“Like what?” He humored me. Prick.
“…Important things.”
“That’s unlikely.”
“It could definitely be likely.” I searched for his face.
“Not nearly enough to stifle you’re upcoming success in flying.” He, unfortunately for me, kept his gaze ahead.
I glanced back over my shoulder, like Garreth might magically appear to rescue me. “Garreth’s still in the bathroom.”
“He’ll survive.”
“He might not.” I turned back to face his back as he led me through the castle, some students stopping to look why someone was being basically dragged against their will.
“Not my problem.”
We kept moving, the light from the flying class lawn beginning to spill into the corridor ahead, bright and unmistakable.
“I feel unwell,” I tried again, faster now. “Like actually. Nausea.”
“You don’t.”
“It’s cholera.” I signaled at the passing students again silently that I was being abducted, who now were more amused than worried. All traitors.
“It’s not.” Sebastian raised his hand to wave at the passing students as they were left indecisive about whether to intervene.
“I could pass out-”
Sebastian stopped just long enough to look back at me, unimpressed, like he was weighing whether I was serious or just committed to the act. Then his grip shifted, firmer this time, and he pulled me forward again when I tried to resist.
“Keep up.” His gaze flicked over me briefly, assessing. “You’re going to learn to fly whether you like it or not. I swear my pride on it.”
“I am actively trying not to.”
“I’ve noticed.” He scoffed out a breath.
The lawn doors, right past history of magic came into view, sunlight spilling through the opening as he pushed them forward without breaking stride. I wondered if I I should yell for Diana to rescue me.
“That should tell you something.” I retorted at his comment before. Voice growing more distressed.
“It does.”
“And?”
He didn’t even look back this time.
“And you’re still coming with me.”
I’m fucked.
๛
So that’s what led me to be standing in front of him, wind tussling the hair I had tried to somewhat style this morning for once, as he hovered slightly over the ground on a broom, one fisted hand resting on his upper thigh while his other loosely held the broomstick. He was explaining something about not being forceful, and how it’s basically sabotaging my chances of getting along with my broom.
At some point I had the broom between my legs, holding it by the broomstick and floating next to him, having shut off completely until then, steeling my nerves to the best of my capabilities, trying to ignore the way the air felt thinner even this low off the ground.
“Well, look at you go. Seems Diana and Garreth exaggerated a bit, no?” he said, a hint of amusement slipping into his voice as he started floating higher, slow and deliberate, his dress shirt shifting faintly, after having taken off his robe and waistcoat, with the movement, looking down at me like he already expected me to follow.
Setting off was never the problem… it was the height, and actually moving, and the way my stomach seemed to lag somewhere below me.
“Haha… told you…” I replied as I lifted higher towards him, the broom started growing more shaky beneath me, a faint, uneven sway that made my grip tighten. I clenched the broomstick harder and glanced beneath me, the ground already feeling farther than it should, quickly snapping my head back up again.
I assume Sebastian noticed, because he let out a quiet breath that almost sounded like a laugh, then lowered himself a couple meters to get back to my level, easy and controlled, hovering next to me.
“You don’t have to be scared,” he said, softer now, placing his hand on my shoulder, warm and grounding, tilting his head just enough to catch my eyes when I tried to avoid his gaze. “I won’t let you fall.” There was something quietly certain in the way he said it, like it wasn’t reassurance, just fact.
“I feel pathetic,” I blurted out, the words coming out tighter than I meant.
He frowned immediately, a small shake of his head. “Stop. Don’t do that.” His tone shifted, not harsh, but firm enough to cut through the spiral before it could settle. “Focus on the progress, not the struggle,” he continued, more lightly now, like he was easing the weight of his own words. “You’re already higher than you were a minute ago… even if you’re pretending not to notice.”
He had, unbeknownst to me, placed his hand under my broom and had been pushing it up, subtle and steady, while keeping my attention on him the entire time. When I finally realized, and actually looked, and saw how high up we were, my breath got caught in my throat, sharp and sudden. The couple of students that had been hanging out in the courtyard had shrunk into small, distant dots in the field, their voices long swallowed by the open air. My eyes were forced shut by reflex, lashes pressing tight as if that alone could anchor me, my arms shaking as they gripped the broomstick, the wood unsteady beneath my hands, the broom responding by starting to wobble.
“Hey-” His hand tightened slightly on my shoulder, not enough to startle, just enough to ground. “Eyes up. If you keep looking for the ground, you’ll only find it faster.” There it was again, that faint edge of teasing, but quieter now, more careful. “Stay with me, alright?”
The broom wobbled again, sharp and uneven beneath me, and I sucked in a breath, forcing my grip to loosen just slightly despite every instinct screaming otherwise.
“Don’t fight it,” Sebastian said, closer now, his voice lower, steadier, cutting through the noise in my head. “You’re making it worse.”
“I can feel that,” I muttered under my breath.
“Good. Then stop doing it.”
I exhaled slowly, trying to ignore the height, the drop, the way my stomach hadn’t quite caught up with the rest of me. Instead, I focused on the broom, on the subtle shift beneath my hands, the way it reacted when I tensed, when I pulled too hard.
Gradually, the wobble eased. Not completely. Not perfectly. But enough.
“There you go,” Sebastian said, quieter now, like he didn’t want to break whatever fragile balance I’d managed to find. “See? Not so difficult.”
“It is absolutely difficult,” I replied, though my voice had lost some of its edge.
“Debatable.”
The broom steadied further, the uneven sway smoothing into something more controlled, something I could actually anticipate instead of react to too late.
I adjusted my grip again, smaller this time, more careful.
The broom responded.
“…Alright,” I said slowly, more to myself than to him.
Sebastian watched me for a moment, something more focused settling into his expression as he took in the shift.
“Good,” he said. “Now- move.”
I blinked. “What?”
“Forward,” he clarified, like it was obvious. “You’re not meant to hover there all day.”
“That was not part of the agreement.”
“We didn’t have an agreement.”
“Oh right I almost forgot I was abducted!” I said in a feigned cheerful voice as he tilted his head and let out a breath before smiling and coming up next to me in the air.
“Lean,” he said, ignoring me entirely, already drifting slightly ahead. “Gently. Not like you’re trying to throw yourself off.”
That did not inspire confidence. Still, I shifted my weight forward, just slightly. The broom responded immediately, gliding ahead in a way that felt entirely too smooth compared to everything that had just happened. My grip tightened on instinct.
“Not so tense,” Sebastian called, circling back toward me with ease, like the air itself moved around him instead of the other way around. “You’ll start fighting it again.”
“I am trying not to die.”
“You’re not dying.” He elongated the mid vowel. Prick. Such a prick.
“That feels subjective.”
He huffed a quiet laugh, drifting alongside me now, close enough that I could still anchor myself to his presence without relying on it completely.
“Keep your balance centered,” he continued, more measured tone now. “Let the broom do the work. You’re guiding it, not controlling it.”
I adjusted again, slower this time, more deliberate. The movement smoothed. We drifted across the courtyard, not fast, nor particularly graceful, but moving, actually moving, and for a moment, the height didn’t feel quite as overwhelming.
“…Alright,” I said again, quieter this time. Eyes switching from the tip of the broomstick to the line of trees surrounding ahead towards the north of the lawn.
“There it is,” Sebastian replied, something almost approving slipping into his tone.
We made a slow turn, uneven but manageable, the castle walls shifting in my peripheral vision as I focused on keeping steady. And then, somewhere between one turn and the next, it stopped feeling like immediate disaster. Not exactly safe. Definitely not comfortable. But… manageable.
Sebastian, of course, noticed immediately “Well,” he said lightly, drifting a little higher before dipping back down again in an easy arc, “look at that. You’re not completely hopeless.”
“I never was,” I shot back as if all that talk before hadn’t happened, though there was less bite to it now.
“Mm. Jury’s still out.” Sebastian was thoroughly proud of himself and his teaching. I scoffed at the thought, knowing for a fact it was the reason for his smug visage.
We made another pass across the courtyard, smoother this time, the turns less sharp, the corrections less frantic, and somewhere between one breath and the next, I stopped bracing for immediate failure. It wasn’t perfect, but it held, and that alone felt like something.
Sebastian, of course, noticed.
“Careful,” he said lightly, drifting a little higher before dipping back down in an easy arc, like gravity had simply decided to ignore him, “you look like you’re starting to enjoy yourself.”
“That’s not what’s happening,” I replied, though there was noticeably less resistance behind it now.
“Sure it isn’t.”
He pushed off again, gliding past me in a smooth line, just close enough for the air to shift around me, deliberate, testing. “Try keeping up.”
“That seems unlikely.”
“Then prove me wrong.” He said in an extremely annoying tone. One that no one would be able to resist the need to quiet down.
I exhaled once, steadying my grip, adjusting my balance the way he’d shown me, smaller movements now, more controlled. Then I leaned forward, just a bit more than before. The broom responded immediately, faster this time, the glide sharpening into something with actual speed behind it. Alright. I leaned a little more. The wind picked up against my face, robes tugging slightly at the sudden change, the courtyard beginning to blur at the edges as I tried to match his pace, to close the distance he kept so easily.
“Not bad-” Sebastian started, somewhere ahead of me.
I leaned further. And that’s when it shifted. The angle changed too quickly, too sharply, and without realizing it, I pulled the broomstick closer toward my torso instead of guiding it forward.
The response was immediate. The broom shot upward. Way too fast for my inexperience. The lawn dropped away beneath me in a dizzying rush, the ground shrinking too quickly, the air thinning again, harsher this time, colder.
“-No, not like that-” Sebastian’s voice cut in, sharper now, already flying towards me.
I tried to correct it, pulling the broom back down the way I thought I was supposed to, but my grip was wrong, too tight, too panicked, the movement jerking instead of guiding. It only made it worse. The broom jolted again beneath me, violent and uneven, and I felt the balance go completely, that awful, hollow shift where nothing quite lines up anymore.
“Loosen your grip- don’t fight it-” Sebastian called, closer now, matching my height, but not touching, not yet. “You’re pulling too hard- just steady-” his voice was growing slightly more strained but it seemed he had faith.
“I am trying-” I started, breath catching as the broom lurched again. My hand slipped. His faith was definitely misplaced. Just a small shift, fingers losing their exact placement, the kind of mistake that would’ve been nothing on the ground. Up here, it was everything. My weight tipped with it. For a split second, I was still on the broom-
-and then I wasn’t.
There was a brief, suspended moment where nothing existed but the sudden absence of support, my body no longer aligned with anything, the world tilting in a way that didn’t make sense.
I slipped clean off.
Sebastian made a sound, sharp and startled, the first real break in his composure, but by then I was already falling. The air rushed past too fast, loud and hollow in my ears, the castle walls stretching upward as the ground came closer in a way that felt entirely wrong. Instinct didn’t even have time to catch up.
Then-
Impact. Not with the ground. With him.
Sebastian caught me just a little too close to it, the force of it knocking the air from my lungs as his arm locked around me, pulling me in tight, steadying the both of us in one sharp, controlled movement. I didn’t splat. Barely.
My hands had already grabbed onto him before I’d even processed it, gripping tight, instinctive, refusing to let go now that there was something solid again. For a moment, I couldn’t speak. Couldn’t think. Just the rush of it, the drop still echoing somewhere in my chest, my grip tightening without permission as I held onto him like letting go would send me right back down again. The ground sat just beneath us. For a moment, neither of us moved, hovering just above the ground as Sebastian kept one arm around me, steady and controlled. His hold didn’t loosen right away, like he wanted to be certain I wasn’t about to slip again.
“Hey,” he said, quieter now, his voice closer than before. “You’re alright. I’ve got you.”
I didn’t answer.
My hands were still gripping onto him, fingers curled into his robes without me really thinking about it. The fall hadn’t fully left my body yet, still sitting somewhere in my chest, my breathing uneven, my thoughts lagging behind what had already happened. Sebastian lowered us the rest of the way until my feet touched the ground, keeping his arm there for another second.
“It’s fine,” he continued, more measured now. “You’re fine. Just breathe.”
That was when it registered. How close I still was. The way I was still holding onto him. I let go immediately, the movement sharp and uncoordinated as I pushed away from him and stumbled back. My boots hit the ground unevenly, and I half-stepped off the broom I’d been placed sideways on, catching myself just enough to stay upright.
Sebastian steadied the broom and dismounted right after, landing cleanly before stepping toward me again.
“Hey-” he started. An arm extended out of reflex.
I had already turned away. My back to him, I pressed a hand against my forehead and exhaled, trying to slow my breathing, trying to pull myself back into something steady. It didn’t quite work, my chest still tight, the rhythm off.
“I’m fine,” I said, though my voice came out way thinner than I meant it to. Behind me, there was a brief pause, long enough for him to notice it, long enough for him to reconsider whatever he’d been about to say next.
Then his footsteps came closer, slower this time, more deliberate. “Doesn’t look like it,” Sebastian said, his voice lower now, stripped of its usual edge. “You nearly-”
I cut him off before he could finish, swinging my arm back through the space between us without turning around and stepping forward at the same time, putting distance there before he could get any closer. “I said I’m fine.”
The words came out firmer this time, controlled, even if the edge hadn’t quite faded.
Sebastian stopped. Not just physically. Completely. The reaction wasn’t loud but it was there in the stillness, in the way he didn’t try to step forward again, didn’t fill the silence the way he usually would. For once, there was no quick remark, no attempt to smooth it over with humor. Instead, he just stood there, watching. It took him a second to piece it together, the fall, the panic, the way I’d grabbed onto him, and then the way I’d pulled away just as quickly. The realization settled in quietly, and with it, something else that sat heavier than he liked.
“…Right,” he said after a moment, the word quieter than anything he’d said so far. His hand dropped back to his side, fingers flexing once like he hadn’t quite decided what to do with them. His gaze lingered on me for a second longer before he looked away, exhaling under his breath, the energy he’d carried through the entire lesson slipping into something more restrained.
“Take a minute,” he added, not stepping any closer this time. “No one’s dragging you back on a broom just yet.” There was a faint attempt at something lighter in the last part, but it didn’t fully land, not the way it usually would. He stayed where he was after that, giving me space without turning it into a big thing, though his attention didn’t leave entirely. It lingered, quieter now, watching without pressing, like he was waiting to see if I’d steady on my own before deciding what to do next.
It took a few minutes for my breathing to settle, the tightness in my chest easing little by little until it stopped feeling like I had to think about every inhale. I let out one final breath, slower this time, and dropped my hand from my forehead before turning around hesitantly. Sebastian had his back to me, standing a short distance away with one hand resting on his broom while the other moved along the handle in small, unnecessary adjustments, the same motion repeating like he hadn’t quite decided what to do with himself. The broom he had handed to me laid on the grass next to him, having probably retreated it as it had been hovering in the air still.
I watched him for a second, then cleared my throat and stepped closer. He glanced back over his shoulder at the sound and straightened slightly, turning just enough to face me as I approached.
“S-” we both started at the same time, then stopped.
“Sorry,” we said together.
A brief pause followed, something easing between us without either of us fully acknowledging it.
“You can speak, sorry,” Sebastian said, gesturing lightly, though his attention stayed on me.
I shook my head, exhaling through my nose as I rubbed the back of my neck. “No, I mean- that was unnecessary. I overreacted.” The words came easier once they started. “You were trying to help and I just made it harder than it needed to be. I should’ve handled it better.”
Sebastian’s expression shifted almost immediately, whatever he’d expected clearly not that. “That’s not- no,” he cut in, stepping closer without hesitation. “You didn’t overreact. You were thirty feet in the air and nearly fell off a broom for the first time. That’s a normal reaction.”
“I’ve seen people manage it,” I said, quieter, not quite meeting his eyes. “Without… that.”
“And I’ve seen people fall off entirely,” he replied, just as quickly. “You stayed on, you corrected it when I told you to, and you didn’t lose it until you were already slipping. That’s not ‘making it harder,’ that’s you actually doing it.” His accent slipped out harsher as he grew passionate about motivating me.
I let out a short breath, unconvinced. “Still. I shouldn’t have snapped at you.”
“That part,” he said, a faint hint of something lighter slipping back in, “was slightly unnecessary.”
I glanced at him, crooked smile forming.
“But,” he added before I could respond, lifting a hand slightly, “I dragged you out here without consent and put you on a broom you clearly didn’t trust. So I’d say that cancels it out.”
The tension didn’t disappear completely, but it shifted, settling into something lighter. Sebastian moved first, adjusting his grip on the broom before mounting it in one smooth motion. He shifted back along the handle, making space in front of him, then looked down at me like the decision had already been made.
“Round two,” he said.
I stared at him. “You’re joking.” My eyes narrowed as his did too, for an entirely different reason.
“Not this time,” he replied, nodding toward the space in front. “You’re not flying. I am. You just sit right here.”
“That sounds worse.” I denied immediately.
“It isn’t.”
I didn’t move, the memory of the drop still sitting too close to the surface to ignore. Sebastian watched me for a moment, then leaned forward slightly, his tone lowering just enough to pull my attention back to him.
“I’ve got you,” he said, steady, certain. “You won’t fall.”
I hesitated, weighing it, then glanced at him again. He didn’t look unsure, didn’t rush me, just waited like he already knew I’d decide eventually. “You’re very confident for someone who nearly let me fall to my death.”
“I caught you,” he replied without missing a beat. Way too nonchalant about it.
“At the very last second.”
“It was exactly on time.” He was the one to lift a couple fingers this time.
I exhaled quietly, then stepped forward, more careful this time as I reached for the broom and climbed on in front of him, adjusting my position until I felt steady enough.
“If this goes wrong-”
“It won’t,” Sebastian said, already settling his grip on the broom. “Promise.”
I exhaled quietly, then stepped forward, more careful this time as I reached for the broom and climbed on in front of him, adjusting my position until I felt steady enough. The shift in balance was immediate, different from before, his presence behind me changing the center of it, grounding it in a way that made it easier to sit without overthinking every small movement.
Sebastian settled in properly after I had hopped in front of him, one arm coming around my waist to hold the broom by the broomstick as he adjusted his seating behind me, close enough that I could feel the slight shift of his weight as he positioned himself properly. His other hand braced briefly at a spot right over my knee, before sliding into a more controlled hold. “Comfortable?” he asked, his voice closer now, lower by proximity rather than intention. The hairs on my neck stood up. This was a bad idea.
“Define comfortable,” I muttered, adjusting my grip slightly.
“I’ll take that as a yes.”
“You really need to stop doing that.” I was going to turn to face him but the broom started moving.
He huffed a quiet breath that almost resembled a laugh, then shifted slightly, the broom responding under us as he tested the balance. “Alright,” he said, more focused now. “Don’t overthink it. You’re not doing anything this time, just sit still.”
“That I can manage.”
“Good. Try not to prove me wrong.”
Before I could respond, the broom lifted. It was smoother than before, controlled, no sudden jolt, just a steady rise that pulled us off the ground in one clean motion. My body reacted anyway, shoulders tensing slightly, breath catching as the distance between us and the courtyard began to grow.
I closed my eyes.
“Really?” Sebastian’s voice came from just behind me, threaded with quiet amusement. “You might enjoy this again if you actually look at it.”
I left the ‘again’ part of his statement uncommented although I snapped at him inwardly. “I’m enjoying it conceptually,” I opted to say instead.
“That’s not how this works.” He laughed for real this time.
“I disagree.”
He shifted slightly behind me, one hand adjusting the angle of the broom as we leveled out, the movement smooth enough that it barely registered beyond the change in direction. “You’re not about to fall,” he added, tone still light, but steadier underneath. “I’d prefer you didn’t miss the part where you’re actually flying.”
I hesitated for a second, then cracked one eye open, just enough to check. We were moving. Not speeding, not struggling, just… gliding, the courtyard stretching out beneath us, the height still there but less immediate, less overwhelming with the control taken out of my hands.
“…Alright,” I admitted quietly, opening my eyes fully this time.
“There it is,” Sebastian said, a hint of satisfaction slipping into his voice.
The broom dipped slightly into a gentle turn, smooth and controlled, nothing like the uneven movements from before, and for once I didn’t tense immediately, just adjusted with it, letting the motion happen instead of fighting it.
“Told you,” he added, just a touch smug now, though there was something lighter behind it.
“Don’t get ahead of yourself,” I said, though there was less resistance behind it than before.
“I fear I’m ahead already.” That did unfortunately force out a laugh out of me, he followed along promptly.
The movement evened out into something steady, a rhythm that didn’t demand constant correction, just enough awareness to stay balanced while Sebastian guided the broom with practiced ease, the courtyard slipping behind us without me fully registering when it happened, my focus caught somewhere between the unfamiliar sensation of flying and the fact that I wasn’t the one controlling it. Then his hand shifted, subtle at first, the balance changing before I fully registered why, and a second later it settled at my waist, firm enough to anchor me in place as the broom picked up speed.
My thoughts stalled entirely, whatever I’d been focusing on disappearing the moment the contact registered, replaced with something far less useful as my attention snapped to it, the warmth through the fabric, the steadiness of his grip, the way it held me in place without effort. That was new. And extremely unhelpful, much like a lot of aspects of being around Sebastian Sallow.
“Try not to tense,” Sebastian said from behind me, far too casual about it, like nothing had changed, like this was a normal adjustment and not something that had completely derailed my concentration. “It’s easier if you don’t fight the movement.”
“I’m not-” I started, then stopped, because that wasn’t even remotely convincing. Not to mention it wouldn’t make sense about me letting him know I tensed due to his touch instead of his change in stance. I could just give him a loaded wand at that point. “Right.”
The wind pressed a little stronger against us as we sped up, the shift in pace more noticeable now, the turns sharper but still controlled, the kind that didn’t leave room for hesitation. I forced my focus forward again, dragging it away from the distraction, away from the fact that his hand was still there, steady, grounding in a way that made ignoring it nearly impossible.
“Woohoo!” He hollered behind me, it forced out a couple more laughs out of me as i involuntarily pressed against his front, the sheer speed in which he was flying taking me out of the easy pace he had set before. It took me a second to realize the surroundings had changed, the open space widening, the familiar stone of the courtyard gone, replaced by something much larger as the structure curved around us and the stands rose up on either side.
The Quidditch pitch.
I blinked, adjusting instinctively as Sebastian guided us into a wide turn without slowing, leaning into it with ease as the broom followed in a smooth arc, controlled and deliberate, carrying us along the edge of the stadium.
One lap. Then another. Of course.
“You’re doing this on purpose,” I said, glancing back just slightly, enough to catch part of his expression.
“Doing what?” Sebastian replied, his tone light in that way that meant he absolutely knew what I meant.
“This,” I gestured vaguely ahead, the pitch, the movement, the very obvious pattern, “the stadium, the laps, I’m not playing-!”
“Just thought you might appreciate the full experience,” he cut in easily, not even attempting to deny it.
“I said I wasn’t interested in Quidditch.”
“You said you weren’t one for it,” he corrected, guiding us through another turn, a little faster this time, clean and controlled. “That’s not the same thing.”
“That is the same thing.” I was laughing again, walls having crumbled before I realized.
“Not quite.”
We straightened out again, the pitch stretching ahead, open and wide, and I adjusted automatically this time when the broom shifted, not overthinking it, just following the motion instead of resisting it.
“You’ve never actually seen it from up here,” he continued, more casually now, like he was making a point he’d already decided on. “Hard to judge something properly when you’ve only experienced half of it.”
“I’ve experienced enough of it.”
“Watching it from the stands doesn’t count sadly.” He spoke slow and infuriatingly.
I exhaled quietly, shifting slightly as we dipped into another turn, smoother again, faster, the stands blurring faintly at the edges as the speed held steady.
“…That is your argument?” I asked. Looking over my shoulder, our noses too close for my liking.
“It’s a very good one.” He kept his eyes right on mine. My breath hitched.
“It’s not.” I forced out after I managed to breathe.
Sebastian huffed softly behind me, the sound close enough to feel. “You’re still here, aren’t you?”
“What am I supposed to do, jump-?” I realized he had meant it in a deeper meaning after catching the slow and steadying of his tone only after I had replied sarcastically. That landed more than I wanted it to, and I didn’t answer right away, I couldn’t, I was physically not able to. It was as if my brain had completely deflected whatever feeling had inevitably settled into my chest just now and forced me to pay attention to something else. Instead it slippedforward again as we completed another lap, the motion starting to feel less foreign, less like something I had to consciously survive.
“See?” he added after a moment, just a hint of satisfaction in his voice. “Not nearly as terrible as you made it out to be.” Thank Merlin he spoke up again, I guess I over interpreted…
“I didn’t say it was terrible.”
“You implied it.”
“I strongly suggested it.”
Instead of arguing back he shook us a bit on purpose to which he had to dodge a backwards headbutt to the face. We curved along the pitch again, the movement fluid, consistent, and for once I wasn’t focused on the height or the drop or the possibility of falling, just the rhythm of it, the speed, the way the broom responded without resistance. That, and the hand still at my waist. I forced my attention forward again. The next turn eased instead of tightening, the speed gradually pulling back as Sebastian angled the broom upward and guided us toward the stands. The descent was controlled, steady enough that I didn’t feel that sudden drop this time, just a gradual return until the wooden rows came into view beneath us. We were on the Slytherin stand.
We landed lightly, the broom dipping once before settling. Sebastian steadied it for a second, then swung off first and turned back toward me, already offering his hand like it had never been in question. I paused for a brief moment. It settled in quietly then, the way he handled…this, no mention of what had happened, no attempt to revisit it, just adjusting, making sure I was steady before stepping back. No apology dragged out, no explanation forced into it. Just… action.
Right. I think I had just understood the kind of person Sebastian was. My lips twitched into a toothy smile. I took his hand.
He helped me down with an easy grip, letting go as soon as my footing was secure. I stepped back, running a hand through my hair to fix what the wind had done to it, then dropped down onto the bench, leaning forward with my arms resting on my knees as my gaze drifted out across the pitch and up toward the sky.
Sebastian joined a second later, sitting a row above me, elbows resting against the wood behind him while his legs stretched out along the bench below, settled in like he belonged there. For a while, neither of us spoke. The air up here carried differently, quieter, open, the stillness settling in after everything that had come before. I glanced back at him once before looking ahead again. “Thank you,” I said, the words coming out more honestly than I’d expected.
Sebastian tilted his head slightly. “For what?”
“For catching me,” I replied, then added after a short pause, “and… for this…and also just in general.” I looked away and scrunched my nose, realizing I sounded way more sentimental than I wanted to.
He let out a quiet breath, something softer sitting behind it. “Glad you enjoyed yourself.” he said.
A small stretch of silence followed, easier now.
“I meant what I said earlier,” I continued, my gaze still fixed ahead. “I made it harder than it needed to be.”
Sebastian shifted slightly behind me, his attention settling on me again. “You didn’t,” he said, direct and certain. “You handled it. That’s what matters.”
“I fell off.” My voice quieted.
I let out a quiet breath, my grip tightening briefly against my sleeve before easing again.
“I should’ve kept it together.”
“You did,” he said, more firmly this time. “You pushed through it, got back on, and you’re still here. That’s it.”
He nudged his knee into mine. “Albeit got onto my broom instead, a broom nonetheless.” He spoke as if sophisticated and we erupted into laughter.
I didn’t answer right away anyway. The words sat there, steady, without pressure behind them. After a moment, I nodded slightly, more to myself than to him. The quiet settled again, stretching out across the stands, the pitch below empty, the sky open above us.
“…It wasn’t as bad as I expected,” I admitted after a while.
Sebastian shifted behind me, something faintly amused slipping into his tone. “Victory.”
“Congrats.” I looked at him relax and breathe in the air.
“No need, I’m used to praise already.”
I rested my head in my palm and scoffed a chuckle, then looked forward again, a small smile pulling at the corner of my mouth before I could stop it.
“You’re insufferable, you know that?” He’d deserved that.
He shrugged crossing an ankle over the other as he laughed along. I shook my head lightly, letting the moment settle as my gaze drifted upward again, the earlier tension finally easing into something quieter, something that didn’t need to be filled with anything else.
To be continued…