It ain't much (yet), but it's honest work. Figured I get on it early so I don't have to go fishin' later:
An Honest Challenge - Sebastian Sallow x F!Reader | AO3 Warnings: 18+, language, explicit sexual content Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 ;) | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 | Part 10 | Part 11 | Part 12 | Part 13 | Finale ;)
A Very Muggle Christmas - Sebastian Sallow x F!Reader | AO3 Warnings: language, sexual allusions/tension Part 1 | Part 2
To Date a Wizard - Auror Sebastian Sallow x MuggleF!Reader Warnings: 18+, language, explicit sexual content Tumblr | AO3
In the Shadow of the Arena - Sebastian Sallow x F!Reader Warnings: violence, blood, minor character death, language Tumblr
Other Platforms: AO3
The Gallery
It has gotten to the point I could stock a small art gallery in a remote coastal village... so behold: The Gallery
Digital Art
"duality of man"
"just beat it"
"Sallow 101"
"sit"
"Izaya-art Challenge"
"Sleepy Sallow"
"Merlin have sweet mercy"
"Pearly Whites"
"Pose" | "Pose-edit"
"the baes"
"stfu"
"Lumos"
“The Damn Holster”
Hogwarts Legacy X Star Wars "Dark Side"
"In the Shadow of Two"
"after hours"
"our convoluted dance"
"Variant"
"hear me out"
"Something more interesting"
Hogwarts Legacy x Pride & Prejudice
"You dirty little minx"
Traditional Mediums
"nonchalant"
"Please hold"
"Specs"
"Red-handed"
"Book worm"
"Just a second"
"Found ya"
I fully realize they get increasingly chopped the further back you go... but so is progress and evidence there of.
@violetmcdowelliscool inspired me with their post (linked here) about their favourite pieces from Hogwarts Legacy and I simply couldn't resist sharing my top 5!
Chuck E. Myers, J. Scott Rakozy, and Jason Linn are such incredible composers and I look up to them so much! I've actually included a piece from the album 'Hogwarts Legacy (Study Themes from the Original Video Game Soundtrack)' because I think it's absolutely stunning!
Starting with my favourite because I think it is so Lily coded...
So, what are your favourite pieces from our beloved game?
To Date a Wizard - Auror Sebastian Sallow x MuggleF!Reader
Summary: University is exhausting. What's more exhausting? A long-distance, cross-world, wizard/muggle relationship. While everyone else flits to class and coffee shops with their boyfriends, yours is tied to the ongoing, three-month pursuit of a relentless criminal on his side of the veil. You knew what you signed up for the moment the auror asked you to be his girlfriend, but tonight, case be damned, you find it impossible to maintain your frayed composure... and so does Sebastian.
Warnings: 18+, mdni, explicit sexual content, aged-up characters, language
Word Count: ~4,400
Hear ye, hear ye... an absolutely filthy one-shot.
Who in their right mind dates a wizard?
It was a question you only asked yourself.
If you’d asked anyone else, they probably would’ve scrunched their brow and quipped ‘A wizard? Like Gandalf?’, because in the Muggle world, that was about all the term encompassed: ‘Gandalf.’
Still, the question rumbled at the forefront of your mind as you drove home from a particularly late night at university. Midterms were just around the corner, and while all of your friends were out studying with - and getting to go home to - their boyfriends… yours was quite literally in a whole other world.
You’d been a starry-eyed undergraduate, shrinking behind your department chair as she’d introduced you and your peers to every internship within a mile’s radius of your nation’s capital. It had been a blur of folders, handshakes, and business cards until you’d settled yourself in a coffee shop, laptop split open beside a London fog. It had been a ruthless cycle of entering names and double-checking spelling, so ruthless your eyes had remained fixed to the screen even as you’d lifted the glass to your lips.
And then, like a glint of light from a stray reflection, you’d seen him. You’d unconsciously straightened and bit color into your lips before lifting your eyes to find an angel among men, and he was looking at you.
A head over the population… Messy brunet hair… Freckles dusting his features that grew bolder near soft brown eyes… Yeah, it was over with.
It was by divine mercy you’d slotted your beverage down the right pipe and by divine intervention he’d picked up his coat and moved to the chair opposite you. He’d smiled, flashed his left canine in a sideways fashion, before asking you if the seat was taken. You’d shaken your head, unsure as to whether you’d batted your lashes purposefully or if it had been an innate response to the timbre of his voice.
Physically, he was checking all the boxes, and though you’d lowered your laptop like it could shield your heart, the conversation he’d started, held, and carried had closed the tech fully by its conclusion. With another wolfish grin, this time beneath a shade of blush you were positive you’d only seen in the embers of your fireplace, he’d asked for your number, and you’d given it.
It hadn’t been till you’d lifted a now-cold beverage to your lips that you’d realized he hadn’t given you his name, nor you your own. You’d shot up, folders face-planting into the floor in your ‘casual’ dash for the door. You’d looked both ways and across the street, straining on tiptoes to meet the eyes that had lulled you into domesticity, only to be pulled back to earth by a buzz in your pocket.
Unknown Number: It’s Sebastian, Sebastian Sallow.
You smiled, rejuvenated for the remainder of the drive home by the memory that never failed to set butterflies aloft within your chest. Your phone buzzed.
Seb: You almost home, love?
Break lights illuminated your tired eyes as you waited behind the last light before your apartment.
You: A minute away.
Green. Buzz.
Seb: Just got home. FaceTime when you do?
You flicked a quick ‘thumbs up’ onto the message and then guided your steering wheel through the intersection, down the street, and up the driveway of your apartment complex. Without a single thought to interrupting the chorus of your second-favorite song, you pulled the keys from your ignition and trudged speedily up the stairs. The third-story units were the cheapest.
Light on, shoes off, bag slumped into the couch, you along with it, and then your phone was ringing the man with the messy brunet hair. The dial had barely spelled through its familiar tune when Sebastian answered.
“Hey, love!” He smiled.
You smiled back, finally letting the exhaustion pour from your lips, “Hey, Seb.”
“How was your day?” He asked, balancing his phone against an object ready to betray it.
“It was alright. Had classes from the A.M. to the P.M., and then an event for the department, but I got paid to attend it, so I can’t complain,” you admitted.
Sebastian exhaled humorously as he propped himself on two arms over his counter, “True, but you do look tired. Are you ok?”
A pause. “Just missing you.”
Another pause. “Me too, love. Me too.”
He seemed to deflate as he said it, touch falling to open a drawer in front of him. The screen illuminated your features as you watched him place a box of Earl Grey atop the counter before shedding his jacket from his frame so he could pull his wand from its holster. Damn that holster. It was the tiniest bit of leather that looped deliciously over his shoulders, and yet you could’ve set it ablaze for its crimes against your fraying composure. Sebastian flicked his wrist, summoning a kettle onto a stove he lit with a successive swish.
You swallowed, “What time is it there?”
He pulled a packet from the box, “3:00.”
“Can’t sleep?”
He shook his head and reholstered his wand, gaze meeting yours through the artificial glow. Sebastian was an ocean away, in another timezone, tethered to the pursuit of a particularly evasive criminal from his side of the veil - and yet those soft brown eyes had you willing to throw your shirt over your head in a split second.
He wasn’t even looking at you like that. You bit back a smile as you recalled the way he would light up when you’d undress on camera, or keep the FaceTime rolling when you showered. Your conscience fought it. Sebastian was tired, exhausted… but it had been so long. Three months to be exact.
And then, as if to counter you unconsciously, Sebastian pulled at his tie, unbuttoned the top of his shirt, and turned to watch the kettle. Your eyes magnetized to his side profile, lingering on his jaw before they fell along his neck, floated blissfully at his loosened collar, and sided - like a moth to a flame - to the damn holster.
Before he could turn back around, you were on your feet. You had an idea. You barged into your room, your own exhaustion a thing of the past as you dug through your closet for a box of candles you’d set aside for wintery storms. With calculated ease, you set them atop your nightstand and began lighting them, the shuck of the lighter scratching through to Sebastian as you lit a handful.
“What’re you doing?” His voice rolled, hitting an incline.
You glanced at the phone, and it only fed your insanity. His undone tie now looped around his neck and hung loosely toward the counter over an untucked shirt.
“Just lighting some candles,” you explained, fully aware that no one, at least in your world, lit a handful of candles just because.
Sebastian’s brow remained taut. You set your phone up, framing the place on your bed you’d occupy after switching off the lights. You scurried back to cautiously check the angle, then casually strolled into view and fell gracefully against your mattress. You lay sideways, more than aware of the cleavage gravity had emphasized as you peered innocently into the phone.
Sebastian swallowed. If he knew what you were doing, he didn’t say as much. He only reached for a packet of tea and mindlessly tore it open as his eyes stayed fixed to the screen.
You smiled and lifted your head slightly as if to ask, ‘What?’
“You’re so beautiful,” he graveled.
You blushed and then pushed yourself upright to straddle nothing, propping your hands between your knees.
Your boyfriend dropped the bag into a cup and raised his brows. You smirked and pulled your top over your head. Your gaze flicked to your camera, and you were pleasantly surprised to see how well the glow from the candles was lighting your skin… and it seemed Sebastian was too.
“Fuck…” the expletive went straight between your legs.
Sebastian ran his fingers through his hair and picked up his phone.
“Love, you can’t-,” You could. You shifted sideways and pushed your torso out of frame. With pointed toes, you pulled your skirt from your waist, but left your thigh-high tights in place as you settled back into your straddle.
“Sebastian~” you murmured, lacing a plea into your tone.
Those soft, tired eyes flickered for a moment and then were blown out. Smoke, hunger, darkness.
“Sebastian, please.” You knew but didn’t know what you were begging for. You knew you wanted, needed him to touch you, but that also meant you were asking him to risk everything… To get to you, he’d have to apparate. It was a desperate notion, a feat like that across an ocean and to a location that held little semblance in his current case? It was a shot in the dark; you were aware of that, and still you raised your rifle.
Sebastian brought a hand to his face that clasped painfully into his jaw. You pulled your bra from your shoulders.
“I miss you, Seb.”
His jaw tensed as he swallowed and placed his phone back against its original support. Sebastian sighed, a strangled whimper bringing up its rear, “Love, you’ve got to stop.”
You should’ve. But you didn’t. Your fingers fell to grip your breast, grazing over their peaks as you let a shameless moan fall from your lips. Sebastian’s brows knit together as he once again braced himself against the counter, but this time, his other arm remained free so a hand could start undoing his belt.
“Sebastian.” Your choice to forgo his nickname froze his fingers immediately. You bowed your spine, flames dancing in your eyes as you arched your back, “Not there… Here.”
Through the fog of lust, reality screamed you were setting yourself up for disappointment. It was feasting on the look that settled in Sebastian’s eyes, the hesitation of his fingers, and the kettle on the stove. Still, you called, “Come here. Come fuck me, please.”
Why were you doing this to yourself? Who in their right mind does this to a wizard?
Sebastian tore his gaze from yours, his eyes flicking in every direction as he seemed to ask himself the same question, or rather, who in their right mind dates a Muggle? Whichever it was, with a speed that rivaled anything human, you felt your mouth water as you watched him rip his wand from its place at his side and disappear with a crack that sounded from your phone and ended behind you.
Your eyes stayed on the space Sebastian had occupied, cup barren, kettle atop a stove that had been switched off, before falling to the corner of your cheek. You straightened your spine and turned to find an angel among men standing at the foot of your bed. His eyes caught your attention first. Beneath messy curls, another flame burned behind the reflection of your ritualistic lighting. It leapt and danced like a back draft, desperate for an escape that now lay waiting a bed’s length away.
You met his gaze from beneath heavy lashes as his name fell breathily from your lips. Reality had been silenced, and all that was left to do was await the consequences. It wasn’t long. The end of your mattress dipped as Sebastian braced himself over an arm. The other wrapped his fingers around your ankle, and you were dragged towards him like you weighed nothing. You looked up at him and followed his gaze that raked down your nearly naked frame, except you continued to his belt that had been pulled halfway from its buckle and to the fabric beneath it, casting a sinful shadow against his thigh.
Yeah, it was over with.
Within seconds, he was on you, kissing you like he hadn’t kissed you in three months as his hands roamed a body that had only been a memory for just as long. Sebastian bit your lip. You gasped in response, and he slotted his tongue into your mouth. He’d needed five seconds to remind you how good a kisser he was. You moaned, shamelessly, as your lover fought your tongue with his, almost punishing it for your actions while his rough hands mirrored the ministrations you’d carried out on yourself not a minute before.
Your own hands, which had been tangled dutifully in his brown curls, fell to pull the tie from over his shoulders. The satin material coiled onto your chest as you unbuttoned his shirt, eyes fighting to stay open while Sebastian’s lips fell below your ear and down your neck. Between love bites you would display with little guilt the next day, your boyfriend moved his fingers to trace down the valley of your breasts, but all came to a blurry halt when he bumped into his tie. Sebastian braced himself above you, eyes lingering on the accessory before they darted to your wrist with a devilish grin.
You whimpered as you silently reached the same conclusion. You’d have complained, but given your successful seduction would likely demand a ten-page apparition report, you probably deserved as much. Sebastian yanked your hand from his shirt and joined it with your other wrist, abs flexing as he held them above your head and snaked the material around with a constricting knot and pull. You moved against the new restraints, a wordless confirmation he’d tied them tight enough. Sebastian smirked, crashed his lips into yours in a violent kiss, then pulled away.
Fuck. Sebastian might as well have landed the starring role as Lust in the Seven Deadly Sins. With slow, purposeful movements, he unbuckled and pulled his belt from his waist to a soul-melting clatter. He unbuttoned his pants and split the zipper, but didn’t pull them off; instead, he let the fabric drape just enough that the strained head of his cock could be seen pushing against its cotton prison. Sebastian flashed you a gaze that told you to take in what you’d done to him, and it was disgusting.
Without taking his eyes off of you, his fingers moved to push his holster from his shoulder, and despite your relative submission thus far, you cried in protest. He paused, realization seeping into his gorgeous features as he gazed down at it and then back up to you. With theatrical motion, he pulled his wand from his side, its green handle catching the light of the candles.
“It stays on,” he whispered, flashing that canine of his, and he was back on top of you.
Likely due to your current position, limbs thrown above your head, his tongue against your nipple pulled a diabolical moan from your lips. He flicked it a few times and then took the bud fully into his mouth as his hips lowered to grind into your thigh with a groan of his own. He was big, he was hard, and you needed him inside.
“Seb… Sebastian, please…” You sighed, whimpering against his tongue, “I need you inside me.”
Sebastian hummed. It was acknowledging, but his tone told you that was all it was. His lips and tongue left a burning path down your body, and just like that, his breath was cascading over your soaked core.
“I’ve been gone for three months.” He stated, fingers ghosting over the space between your panties and your tights, “I think I owe you something before I let myself have you.”
His pointer finger landed softly at your entrance over your underwear, tracing up your slit to your clit, and you squeaked.
Who in their right mind would deny themselves that?
Sebastian backed off of you as he hooked the cloth from your frame and knelt between your legs. With a smirk, he pulled your legs over his shoulders, suspending you over the foot of your bed as his hand braced over your hip. You were trapped. You held your breath, watching him study you, work through exactly what he wanted to do to you, and then he decided. His dark gaze snapped to you, his tongue pushing at your entrance before it carved up to your clit.
“Fuuuuccckkk,” You exhaled.
He closed his lips around the sensitive nub and ran his tongue over it gently, but increased the pressure with which he pressed it against you until you were squirming. He smirked. First your tongue, now your clit. One subtle punishment after another, each at the behest of that glorious mouth of his.
“Ahh! Seb,” you cried, desperate to push him off of you, “Please! It-”
You were cut off when the wet, tense muscle relented against your clit, slipping down to your entrance, where he pushed it inside of you.
“Sebastian!” You cried.
A low chuckle rumbled from his chest as he subjected you to something you had yet to experience. Your stomach twitched, your body torn between wanting to stay and pull away, but his iron grip robbed the choice from you entirely. Sebastian continued to fuck his tongue in and out of you, rippling it up and down when it was as deep as it could go. Your eyes rolled into the back of your head, clit throbbing as it begged for an ounce of the attention he was paying to your pussy. You bucked your hips, spreading your legs as you wordlessly asked for such, and it seemed Sebastian understood.
He pulled away, a toxic mix of his saliva and your pleasure dripping down his chin.
“God, you taste so good.” He slithered, licking his lips before he returned his tongue to your clit and pushed a finger inside of you.
“Oh, fuck.”
Sebastian sucked your bundle of nerves between his teeth, trilling his tongue as he curled the digit inside you. Moans tumbled from your lips, his name the only discernible word as he moved his mouth against you to a rhythm that painted your skin with mind-numbing pleasure. Now your core tensed from the intensity with which Sebastian was hurdling you toward your high. You couldn’t handle any more, but of course, the smug bastard had to prove you wrong.
As he withdrew his finger, he pushed a second into you, both rolling unrelenting against the soft spot inside you that made you see stars. He then brought his thumb up to play between his warm tongue and penetrating fingers— a symphony that was singing you to your grave. You were close.
“Seb, baby, God, I’m close,” you stuttered, tugging against his tie as you yearned to run your fingers through his curls.
Sebastian smirked against you, sucking your clit into his mouth before he slowly pulled away and moved his thumb to press it against your throbbing pearl.
“Oh, is that so?”
His fingers continued to pump in and out of you, the action moving his thumb just enough that you saw the light at the end of the tunnel, but not enough to thrust you into the arms of whatever awaited you after death.
“Seb! Please!” You begged, attempting to move your hips against his touch, but his other arm tightened.
“You have no idea what this does to me,” he slithered.
Your brows tilted, and you let out a muffled sob. Those words alone nearly killed you.
“You wanna cum, love?” Sebastian asked, circling your clit slowly, lightly.
You nodded feverishly.
“As you wish.”
His thumb fell below your clit once again, playing with your folds as his tongue returned to its post. His fingers curled potently into your g-spot and his dark eyes remained nailed to your own as he coaxed you over the edge.
You were positive you’d be kicked from your apartment complex for how loudly you called his name, laced with a tone that fluctuated sinfully with his fingers inside of you. Sebastian whimpered into your cunt, the vibrations merging both pleasures into a single force that tore from your lungs in a guttural sob.
You rode his tongue, his fingers, and then collapsed into his embrace. Sebastian hummed, languidly cleaning up after himself before he gently removed your legs from his shoulders and moved you further up your bed. You panted through parted lips, lungs burning when he kissed them, but all was worth it just to taste yourself on the boy with soft brown eyes.
You were lost, happily lost. You were wandering a space that smelled of suede and old books, buzzing with a touch that had turned you loose to such an expanse… and then his voice echoed in the wind.
“Gotta be inside of you, now. I need you, fuck~” he muttered into your kiss as he pulled away to push his lower garments down.
“Fuck me, Sebastian, please fuck me,” you begged.
He nodded, brows furrowing as he brought his length to your entrance and pushed into you.
Something between a sob and a whimper left his swollen lips, eyes watering as he brought his gaze back to you and continued to sink into you.
“Fuck darling, you’re so tight-,” a desperate breath, a bit lip, a whimper, lips parted, “Fucking hell love.”
His fingers brushed your hair from your eyes, falling to caress your cheek as he leaned into an arm and set a pace. A strained whine sputtered from your lips. The pull and push of it felt so good. Sebastian felt so good.
He rolled his hips against you slowly, stretching you out as his eyes told you he was savoring you.
“I missed you so much.” He kissed you, hand leaving your face to pull your leg around his hip as he traded his grinding for pointed thrusts, “I love you. So much.”
You moaned, his cock stealing the words his fingers hadn’t already, “I, mmph,” a cry, “I love you too.”
Sebastian then dropped a hand to your stomach, splayed his fingers, and pressed down. He’d savored you, and now, as per your request, he was going to fuck you.
You looked up at your angel, soft curls coiling against his damp forehead as he fell from grace. Sebastian enforced a brutal pace, cock spearing against your G-spot without fail, and those brown eyes of his had glazed over, swallowing everything you were giving him. And then your attention caught the holster, its leather straining against the muscle of the being above you, and your second orgasm reared to life. You’d just started. Damn that thing.
You took your eyes from it and placed them on Sebastian, hoping to find solace there, but eyes like the desert sun stoked the fire in your core mercilessly. You needed to touch him.
“Seb- Sebastian,” you called, “Let me touch you, baby, please…”
Sebastian looked up at your wrists, Adam’s apple bobbing deliciously as he locked eyes with your restraints. He slammed into you, grinding against your drooling cunt as he reached up and untied your limbs. As soon as they were free, you pulled him into a kiss, and his hand was back on your stomach, practically folding you in half as he fucked you senseless. Your lips parted, and Sebastian fell to the crook of your neck, lips moving languidly against your skin as you pulled at his curls and he started whimpering.
“I’m close, love,” he whined, hips stuttering as you felt his length pulsing painfully inside of you.
“Me too, Seb,” you whispered into his ear.
Upon hearing that, his arm worked between your bodies and found your clit, the rough pad of it circling it just above where he split you open. You wailed, tears welling over and down your temples, and Sebastian held himself above you just enough that he could watch him tear you apart at the seams.
“Seb- Seb, fuck, Sebastian,” you stuttered for a second time.
He nodded, thrusting into you, “Cum, darling, cum on my cock. God, fucking do it so I can fill this pussy up.”
He needn’t say it twice. You came hard. Your cunt sucked him deeper, fluttering around him, and convinced him he might as well follow suit. Sebastian’s arms shook as he fell apart, forehead connecting with yours before his lips fell to your own. It was messy, but neither of you were too focused on a proper kiss as you melted into each other. With a drawn-out cry, Sebastian emptied the last of his spend and then collapsed into the crook of your neck.
There was something so mind-numbingly attractive about that duality: his ability to take what was his and then fall submissively into your arms. You shook, twitching against his slowed ministrations as your fingers played with the hair at the base of his neck. You slowed your breathing, and Sebastian unconsciously matched your calm, the cross of his leather holster on full display between his shoulder blades. The sight made you clench around him, and the boy gasped.
“Ahh, fuck. What was that for?” He mumbled into your neck.
Your hand left his hair and traced the outline of the occupational accessory. Sebastian laughed weakly and propped himself up on his elbow.
“You do realize I have to wear this every day,” he explained.
You couldn’t stop the smile that worked onto your lips, your fingers hooking beneath the leather running over his chest, “I do.”
Sebastian’s gaze bounced lovingly between your own and your lips, “Will you be able to control yourself?”
You bit the inside of your cheek and shook your head, innocently, “Who in their right mind could?”
Sebastian flashed you a look that forced another innate tensing of your muscles around him.
“Fuck darling, you gotta stop that,” Sebastian winced, but laughed with that sideways smile you adored.
You brushed his curls and pulled him by The Damn Holster into a kiss. It was soft and lazy, coupled by feather-light touches, and was only interrupted when Sebastian slipped himself out of you before you could do it again.
“Can I at least take it off to sleep?” He asked, thumb soothing your thigh.
You donned a faux pout, only letting up when Sebastian looked convinced he’d have to. “Only if everything else comes off,” you grinned eventually.
Sebastian narrowed his eyes and then began rolling your tights off, “Same goes for you, love.”
“Deal.”
- - -
A.N. Uhh, I'm just gonna leave this here... *backs away slowly and then books it around a corner calling "I did this for the long-distance people"*
In the Shadow of the Arena - Sebastian Sallow x F!Reader
Summary: Sebastian doesn’t have the answers, and it feels like he’s lost everyone. How could anyone look at him after what he’d done?
In his loneliness, he seeks comfort in the one person who hasn’t completely turned their back on him: you.
“He did attack us. You had no choice.”
Sebastian needs you like he never has before, and only now does he realize just how many classes you skip and how many nights your bed is empty.
So what happens when the boy who took one life, burdened with the guilt of whether it was justified or not, follows you into the Forbidden Forest to the feet of a cloaked statue?
Word Count: ~3,600
Warnings: violence, blood, minor character death, language
Your desk was empty, again, and it was with escalating curiosity Sebastian realized he hadn’t seen you since your last conversation in the Undercroft weeks ago.
He’d sent you his owl a couple of times, both of which you had yet to reply to, but any additional flights would only paint him as desperate— but the irony was he was, in fact, desperate.
In the days following the incident in the tomb, Sebastian found himself thinking about you more and more.
Ominis had been avoiding him, Anne wasn’t speaking to him, and both had been convinced he should ‘pay for what he’d done,’ until you had convinced them otherwise, saved him from a fate worse than death, and — above it all — hadn’t been angry with him. No, you’d been, dare he say, supportive. You’d extended your hand, thrown a rope to him even though he’d willingly walked the plank, and he couldn’t wrap his mind around why.
Suffice it to say, if someone were to dunk Sebastian into a Pensieve, they’d be overwhelmed with his memories of you.
“Ay, Prewett,” Sebastian called, throwing his elbow over the back of his chair, “Don’t suppose you’ve seen y/n around, have you?”
“Haven’t,” the Gryffindor replied curtly, “I’d assume it has something to do with Professor Fig, but the lass hasn’t so much as stepped a toe into any classroom since the first day of school.”
Sebastian frowned. He hadn’t even noticed. He’d been too distracted by the tomes he’d slotted within his larger textbooks to realize this had been a year-long ordeal. Some friend he was.
Leander started again, “You know what, I did see her, come to think of it.”
Sebastian waited for him to elaborate, even rolled his wrist forward to spur him on, but the smug curl of his classmate’s lip told him there was a toll to be exacted. Oh, for crying out loud.
“What?” His tone caught the snap of the whipping thought.
Leander shifted in his seat and folded his arms, brows wriggling, “I dunno… you tell me, Sallow.”
“Tell you what?” He wasn’t in the mood to play this game.
Leander deflated, “Why do you need to know where y/n is all of a sudden?”
Sebastian rolled his eyes.
“It’s not like that, Prewett. She just borrowed some old notes from fourth-year, and I need them back.”
Leander narrowed his eyes, but in the end, his white lie survived his peer’s inspection.
“Whatever you say, Sallow.” Leander said with a toss of his brow, “But if you must know, I’ve seen her trampin’ into the Forbidden Forest ‘bout nine o’clock every night.”
It was Sebastian’s turn to narrow his eyes, “You stalking her or something?”
“Oh, piss off.” He cursed, “No, I’m not. O.W.L.’s are kickin’ my arse, so I’ve been a regular at the Broomsticks. Just happened to see her crossing the Honkin’ Daffodil bridge a couple times.”
“The one with all the spider signs?”
Leander nodded with a suspicious frown.
“Thanks,” he said, ignoring whatever was mumbled under the boy’s breath, and turned to fiddle with his quill.
Just what could you be up to in the Forbidden Forest, at night? Though he, Ominis, and Anne had enjoyed their fair share of excursions into its depths, not even Anne dared to brave the biome without the light of the sun to guide them out. ‘Plain foolishness,’ is what she’d said when the Slytherin Quidditch team had entered the moonlit canopy at the hands of a post-match bet. Oh, how she had laughed when they’d come sprinting down the common room stairs covered in Shooter webs and Mongrel fur.
The memory was bittersweet, as were all memories of their time together at Hogwarts, though most teetered towards bitter in the recent days. How could it all have gone so wrong?
Sebastian slammed his eyes shut, and a familiar feeling festered in his gut. He’d have said it was guilt, but all he’d done was act on instinct. Between fending off waves of inferi and dodging ruthless attacks from his own uncle, he hadn’t had a choice… and yet he’d made a decision.
He shook his head.
I cast first, but Solomon struck me countless times before.
I cast Confringo, but Solomon cast Firestorm.
I took his life, but Solomon was trying to take Anne’s.
I took his life for her’s.
I took his life…
“Mr. Sallow, are you feeling alright?” Professor Weasley asked.
He met her gaze through a trim of frustrated tears, “Sorry, Professor. I just- please excuse me.”
She nodded, giving him a worried smile. He stood and shouldered his bookbag, quill shoved next to crumpled, unfinished assignments and overdue tomes. All eyes were on him, but Sebastian blocked them out with your voice.
‘You had no choice, Sebastian. I would have done the same.’
You were right, he’d done what needed to be done, and you were the only one who understood that.
He needed you— more than ever before, and in a way he couldn’t explain.
* * *
Sebastian stood on the metal grate outside your dorm room, the last place he wanted to be given your intolerable roommate, but he’d searched the entire castle for you to no avail. He kicked aimlessly at a divot, praying you would open it, but was soon vastly disappointed.
“Can I help you?” Imelda asked, hand on her hip.
Sebastian was tempted to mirror her demeanor, but he forced an apologetic smile for the time being.
“Sorry to bother you,” he started, “I was wondering if y/n was here.”
“Nope, never is.” She replied without a glance back into the room.
“Oh, just needed to talk to her.”
“Did I ask?”
“No, s’pose you didn’t.” Sebastian didn’t afford her a goodbye, just turned and walked back down the hall. The door slammed behind him, but he hardly cared, more concerned with what ‘never is’ meant.
Sebastian had always assumed you led a normal student life outside of your and his adventures, but then again, after you’d transformed that goblin into a fucking barrel of explosives and hurled it into its fellow loyalists, maybe he’d have to rethink things.
Given he’d been convinced, up until about a week ago, that goblins had been the ones to curse Anne, he’d only had room to sneer at your capital punishment… now? Now it, in combination with your supposed ‘normal’ disappearances, forced him into a need-to-know basis that had him flying up the stairs, diving into the Floo Flame, and out into the moonlit ruins between Hogwarts and the Forbidden Forest.
His pocketwatch claimed it was nearly nine o’clock, and when Leander Prewett waltzed by, giving far too much attention to the Honking Daffodil bridge, he crouched behind a large pillar and waited for you.
Sebastian would be lying to himself if he didn’t feel the part a downright git for literally stalking you, but he had a feeling that whatever you were up to was not for him to know, thus up to him to find out.
This much spoke for itself when, sure enough, you emerged from the green smoke of the Floo Flame in an all-black ensemble he’d yet to see you in, but before he could get a good look, you inadvertently spooked a patch of nearby flowers to honk in cacophonous succession and fell into a light jog.
You were quick, disappearing into the trees before Sebastian had a chance to trail after you. Instead, he called his broom and whisked over the grassy hills, crossed the bubbling stream, and dove into the coniferous threshold.
He caught up to you, barely— just in time to see your figure hang a hard right before a sea of signs that gave weight to the ‘plain foolishness’ of your nocturnal activities, whatever those might be.
Sebastian pulled back on the ashen handle of his broom, steadying it to a languid glide in the direction you’d gone while his heart hammered in his chest. Where were you going? Wherever it was, you’d been there often enough that you didn’t need the Lumos charm, something he was very tempted to cast given every low-hanging branch looked the part a large spider waiting to pounce. Luckily for him, though, the path you followed widened, allowing him to climb in altitude and watch from above with a clearer view.
His earlier observation had been correct. Everything from your gloves to your boots was black. The only hope of color was in the moonlight that reflected dimly off a metal mask that covered most of your face. It was sharp, tapering down and slightly forward like a beak.
Why did you need a mask?
Suddenly, the profile of it snapped sideways. Sebastian pulled up, but whatever had drawn your attention had been on the forest floor. You scanned the treeline, quickly throwing your hood over your head before stealing forward.
He followed you through hollow pockets within the branches, eyes flitting between what was ahead and what was below, a task made increasingly difficult when the path narrowed once more. The deeper you lured him in, the more the forest seemed to come alive. Sebastian could no longer hear the trickle of the stream nor feel the wind against his cheek. The atmosphere was dense, pulsing with the calls of insects that had abandoned their mindless drumming to mimic a beating heart. Trees grew impenetrable, and branches clawed at his robe, forcing Sebastian to watch you squeeze through two trees before a bed of fallen pine needles silenced his landing.
He crept after you, hiding behind the same two trees, and when he peered through them, his breath caught in his throat when his ‘escalating’ curiosity was rendered, well, fully escalated.
“What in Merlin’s name?” He whispered to himself.
You stood before the statue of a cloaked figure nestled in the jagged outcrop of a small ravine. It held out long arms in invitation, centering a bowed head that almost seemed to cry from a run off of water from above. Beside it, casting sentient shadows along the tree line, were two purple flames, writhing in time to the fabric of your coat he could now see clearly.
You pulled your wand from your side, handle still the same green and black checkered marble as his, and without an ounce of hesitation, you stepped forward into the statue. To Sebastian’s shock, a lithic roll sounded as it lowered its head and crossed its arms, cloaked sleeves trapping you inside.
The breath he’d been consciously holding escaped as a mist into the cold, damp air. Cloaked in black, hiding behind a mask, stepping into a positively medieval statue? Sebastian had always known you hadn’t told him everything, but this?
On careful feet, he approached the statue, soon standing where you had seconds ago. Like you, he pulled his wand from his side, and the statue opened its arms, mournful eyes boring into his soul.
Wherever you’d gone, you’d deemed it necessary to conceal your identity. Sebastian didn’t have a serious mask like yours, nor a smoking black robe, but he did have that wolf mask from last year’s masquerade ball. He pulled his own school-affiliated robe from his frame, charming it away before he summoned the mask from the corner of his wardrobe. He snapped it over his head and was left in his dark button-up and darker trousers. Toss Leander, maybe he was stalking you or something.
With a semblance of hesitation more than you’d sported, Sebastian readied his wand, took a deep breath, and stepped into the stone.
* * *
The statue was a portkey. In a sickening flash, Sebastian was catapulted through a black nothingness until his feet slipped against a slick, mud-covered floor. He caught himself on an arm, bowing his frame just enough that he missed a crate flying at unnatural speed overhead.
Sebastian ducked purposefully now, drawing a stuttered protego to shield himself from the impending debris, but the man the crate had struck hadn’t been as lucky. A large stake had been lodged in his chest, dark crimson staining the dirt-covered shirt he wore, and when he realized what had happened, his terror-stricken eyes met Sebastian’s.
“Help me!”
Sebastian, who’d been frozen in place, melted into action. He flashed forward, fishing in his pockets for Wiggenweld as he kept the man from pulling at the piece of wood.
“Don’t! You’ll bleed out!” He shouted, fingers cuffed around his tattooed wrist… an Ashwinder.
Still, he uncorked the green bottle and poured it into the man’s mouth. It wasn’t enough. He knew it wasn’t enough, but it was all he could do.
“More,” the man begged.
Sebastian rifled through his pockets again. He didn’t have any more. He looked to the man to apologize, but it was too late.
“Levioso!”
Sebastian tucked and rolled, an instinct he owed to Crossed Wands, and the spell whizzed past him. It sapped into a piece of the broken crate instead, but his attacker shouted the levitation charm again. Another duck, another miss, and Sebastian set his sights on a makeshift tower.
Clambering up onto its platform, he whirled around just in time to block a reducto. He arched through expelliarmus, but his wand sparked, showering embers onto his arm as the spell backfired.
“New here, are ya boy?” The approaching Ashwinder smirked, “Appreciate the sentiment, but that’s not how things work around here.” His smirk turned into a sneer, “… Cruci-”
In the blink of an eye, the man was snatched up into the air, and Sebastian, scrambling back into the corner of the tower, watched him soar toward a figure donning the mask of what he now saw to be a raven.
You cut your wand down, slamming the Ashwinder into the ground with a sickening crack, and spun around to block another attack. You hadn’t seen him.
Afforded a respite he wouldn’t have had otherwise, he gathered his surroundings. He was in an arena of sorts; there was no better way to describe it. Ashwinders littered the space, all actively attacking you. Through the damp mist and by the echo of incantations and explosions, he figured he was underground, an answer to the wet floor he’d slipped on despite the clear night he’d flown through. Walling the arena in were mine-like panels lined with lanterns of a similar nature, as well as two more towers like the one he’d taken refuge in. On one end of the chaos, he spotted a gate that had been drawn shut, but behind it all, there wasn’t a soul in sight— strange since arenas usually sported a healthy crowd.
What was this place, but more importantly, what were you doing here?
He turned his attention back to you. You stood over the hauntingly still Ashwinder, shoulders rising and falling. Not far from his body was another, and next to that one, the man whose blood had stained Sebastian’s hands. Was it over?
He looked to the gate, hoping it would open and confirm his suspicion, but instead, a ball of shadow hurled over the closed gate and circled the arena before it landed behind you. It dissipated, revealing a figure cloaked in purple as other sentient shadows poured in from all sides. Like the first, the dozen landed around you, wands drawn as the bodies that had littered the floor turned to dust.
“The infamous Raven,” the leader spoke, and when she stepped to her left to circle you, her followers did the same.
You didn’t reply. You left your head down and wand at your side.
“Grodbik tells us you’ve earned him quite the fortune; told us to go easy on ‘the witch that takes out his trash.’” She spun her wand and brought her vulture-esque brigade to a stop, “Too bad the word ain’t in my dictionary… Crucio!”
Blood-red lightning forked from her wand, but you disappeared in a whirl of white, and it struck another of your attackers behind you. They crumpled to the floor, screaming in pain, but the rest held their rank.
It was eleven to one. There was no way you were making it out alive without your ancient magic, and given your title, ‘the Raven,’ Sebastian assumed your use of it would only give away your identity.
He stood to his feet and stepped into the firefight, wand gripped in his hand, as the fear that coursed through his veins resurrected the Ashwinder’s words.
‘…that’s not how things work around here…”
One of the figures cloaked in purple turned towards him. She gritted her teeth and cast diffindo, an offensive spell. Sebastian took a dueling stance and deflected it before carving his wrist through confringo. It was her turn to deflect, and the flame that shot from his wand was redirected into the mud with a hiss.
She grinned, “Grodbik didn’t say anything about a wolf.”
He didn’t reply, only kept his eyes pinned to her wand.
“But I like the mask. Mind if I take it?”
She cast at his feet, and he swung through a protego, but she was too quick. With a flick of her wand, she slipped the mask from his face and hung it on her belt with a scornful pout.
“Oh, how I hate killing pretty boys,” she pouted, “but I’ll have this to remind me of ya.”
She patted her side and then struck like a snake, but just as the green from her wand blossomed forward, she and the spell were frozen in time. Before he had time to register what had happened, a ball of fire struck her in the chest and sent the spell intended for him into the wall. She fell to the floor, screaming as the flames wrapped around her torso and climbed up her neck. She shouted extinguishing charms, but her wand refused them, sparking and falling to the floor beside her.
Sebastian backpeddled, her thrashing frame reflected in his shocked gaze. What the hell is this place?
“Accio!” Sebastian pivoted to his right, ready to block it, but the spell had sailed past him. It latched onto a barrel, hurdling it toward him far too fast for him to do anything about it. It swept him off his feet, and he hit the stone floor hard. Mud splattered in his eyes, blurring his throbbing vision to match the ringing in his ears. He swiped at it, trying to right himself until a heel dug painfully into his shoulder.
“Stay down!” It was you, “Stay down or- fuck!” You snapped your arm to the side and shouted diffindo, sending three of the attackers into the wooden wall. “Stay down or I’ll make you stay down!”
He nodded, collapsing, and his world turned sideways. He’d only made it a few steps from the tower, allowing him a full survey of what unfurled before him. The three you had hurled into the barrier had righted themselves. One clutched his side, another spat blood onto the floor, but the last readied her shaking wand toward you while you deflected an onslaught of spells and curses.
Sebastian inched his fingers toward his wand— they wouldn’t see him coming, but right as its marble handle rolled into his grasp, you blocked a spell with such deadly precision that it rebounded the lot of it back at your assailants with a searing white explosion.
Sebastian slammed his eyes shut, and when the blast scittered up the sides of the arena, he opened them just in time to see you whipping around to face the three. From behind the cold metal of your mask, you stared them down, your hood falling from your head as an underground breeze swept through the cavern.
It was a momentary calm that threatened two outcomes, but the choice you made was markedly opposite to what Sebastian had expected, and it burrowed itself deep in his heart.
“Imperio!” A green dart of light zipped through the air and struck the woman with the trembling wand. She stiffened, and the men on either side of her pulled their attention off you and onto her.
They didn’t hesitate. They both struck, but their now green-eyed comrade let the spells sink into her flesh in the interest of hitting them both with a basic cast. They screamed, flexed fingers clawing at green X’s that carved into their foreheads with a sickly hiss.
Bile climbed up Sebastian’s throat. The spell was putrid, an impenetrable smoke laced with burnt flesh that flickered the vision of Solomon’s corpse before his eyes.
He looked away. You had bested the entirety of your attackers, and the one who had spoken to you at the start now knelt before you. Her purple robe was torn at the seam, revealing a marking he’d once seen on himself… the night after the sciptorium.
“Heard another thing about ya,” the woman spat, “Heard the Raven always tells her last victim her name.” Maniacal laughter cracked through her lungs, barking against her rib cage as crimson stained her smile and painted her chin. “And I guess that would be me? What luck!”
Last victim? But the three next to Sebastian were still alive… he looked at you and found your gaze was fixed to his. He couldn’t see the expression you wore, but something inside him told him everything was about to change.
“I do,” you lowered your head, “but not this time.”
You snapped your attention back toward your victim and stabbed your wand forward.
“Avada Kedavra.”
You said it quickly, every syllable callous, and a viridian bolt drove forward from your wand.
Sebastian heard it. It screeched greedily and made its home in the woman’s chest. It hollowed her out, leaving but a shell of what once was before it jumped to the three beside him and did the same.
They all collapsed, death retreating with satiated whispers to leave four empty faces staring right back at him.
In my second play-through of Hogwarts Legacy, I quite literally stumbled into the Dark Arts Arena in the Forbidden Forest. I cracked some vases and entered only to find the game had me wielding the holy quadfecta of Confringo, Imperio, Crucio, and Avada Kedavra.
Mind you, I found this before the whole 'send Sebastian to Azkaban or not...' SEND SEBASTIAN TO AZKA-?! AFTER I JUST SERIAL KILLED AT LEAST THREE DOZEN PEOPLE??
I think what really gets me is the fact that Harry Potter Wiki lists the poor guy as "a Scottish Dark Wizard."
Side note, I know it isn't that deep. I know it's a video game, and people just wanted a chance to throw some unforgivables around, but the PLOT HOLE!
So, without further ado, the plot of the fic inspired by my need to fill plot holes with builder's grade cement:
- - -
Sebastian is at war with himself over what happened in the tomb. He’s aware there were faults on both sides, admits he cast first, but since when has a childish basic cast warranted the hell his uncle brought down upon him, let alone you?
He doesn’t have the answers. Right now, it feels like he’s lost everyone: his uncle, Anne, Ominis… how could anyone look at him after what he’d done? In his loneliness, Sebastian seeks comfort in the one person that hasn’t completely turned their back on him: you.
“He did attack us. You had no choice.”
Maybe you’re right, or maybe you were just telling him what he wanted to hear… either way, Sebastian needs you like he never has before, and only now does he realize just how many classes you skip, how many meals you miss, and how many nights your bed is empty.
So what happens when the boy who took one life, burdened with the guilt of whether it was justified or not, follows you into the Forbidden Forest to the feet of a cloaked statue?
- - -
Can you guys see yourselves being interested in this? Understandable if not after I just smacked you with FOURTEEN parts of the previous fic, but I promise two things from this one:
I will not mischaracterize Sebastian Sallow. Bro is devastated, so I shall write him as devastated.
I will keep it to two parts, MAX. I won't put you all through that again. (unless you're like 'hey sentry, it ended weird.' Cause that's what I'm trying to fix since HL lowkey ended weird)
But uh, you know, open to questions, concerns, and can you nots.
Edit: You now read the result here *slides over table with style*
An Honest Challenge FINALE - Sebastian Sallow x F!Reader
Summary: “Seb?” You called his name like one might call into a dark room. There was a possibility he was in there, somewhere — you just weren’t sure.
Something answered with a cold wand down your throat and warm fingers at your chin, “Yes, love?”
Warnings: 18+, aged-up characters, mdni, shamelessly explicit sexual content, language
Word Count: ~5,500
Part 1 || All parts available on my masterlist
Chapter 14 | A Promiscuous Lullaby
Loving Sebastian Sallow was knowing — at some point or another — you were going to jump from one of the highest towers at Hogwarts willingly because only Sebastian Sallow was insane enough to apparate whilst engaged in a total free fall. The thing about apparition was you landed as hard as you fell, a fact that kept sane wizards secured on their own two feet before they disappeared into the in-between.
So, aside from the Black Lake, what on Godric’s green earth did he plan to catch your fall with?
With a flick of his wand, you held your breath, and the roar of wind past your ears gave rise to a thick, warbling force that pressed against you on all sides. It wasn’t pleasant, but it didn’t last long, as it turned out Sebastian had given thought to the law of momentum when you appeared a few inches above a body of water before crashing into its warm, shallow depths with a splash. As fast as you could, wearing a skirt under water, you righted your feet beneath you and stood.
Waves sloshed in every direction, scaling the stone parameter of your saving grace before they slid across tiles reflecting firelight from above. You wiped your eyes. You hardly recognized the space given you’d only been inside it once your fifth-year, but when you turned, the elaborate mural of a mermaid gave you the confirmation you needed: the Prefect’s bathroom.
How in Merlin’s name-?
You whirled around to find Sebastian standing to his own feet. Water cascaded over his shoulders as he swiped a hand down his face, flashing you an exhilarated smile beneath his now blackish-brown curls. Normally, you would’ve transfigured his ass for essentially tossing you into a bath, fully-clothed… but seeing the way his linen shirt stuck to his frame deliciously, catching droplets that traced his neck… perhaps there was method to his madness.
You shook your head and let a smile creep onto your lips, “It’s official. You’re actually insane!”
Sebastian laughed, beaming like you’d told a kid ‘good job,’ even though that was decidedly opposite to what you were trying to say. Still, he smiled and took a step toward you, fingers guiding a couple of strands of your wet hair out of your face.
It was a simple gesture, and yet, you swallowed at his lack of verbal response. In the second you’d taken to close your eyes against his touch, a Sebastian you almost didn’t recognize stood before you.
It was a night and day difference. You’d been subject to this alter ego before, and yet you couldn’t stop yourself from shrinking beneath him as it peered at you through his eyes.
“Seb?” You called his name like one might call into a dark room. There was a possibility he was in there, somewhere — you just weren’t sure.
Something answered with a cold wand down your throat and warm fingers at your chin, “Yes, love?”
The way Sebastian stared at you almost made you tuck tail and run; not because you didn’t want it, you just weren’t sure you’d be able to stay quiet.
“In- in here?” you stuttered, turning from his warmth to look at the door, “Shouldn’t we- I mean… what if someone-?”
His wand traced along your collar bone to the shoulder you’d turned toward, sliding over it as he brought his lips to your ear. Two charms slithered out of his mouth, pooling in your stomach when the door behind you locked audibly, and a telling pulse swallowed the echo of the tiled room.
“In here,” he answered, letting his wand fall into the water, “In here, right now, or I’ll lose my fucking mind.”
You met his gaze once more, and the water around you seemed to boil. He was fighting a losing battle.
Sebastian wanted you, and you? You wanted him.
“Well, what are you waiting for then?” You asked, “You’ve got me all to yourself.”
Sebastian smirked, licked his lips, then crashed them into yours. You’d barely a second to match his rhythm when his fingers flew to your soaked blouse, and fucking ripped it open. As fast as you could, you wriggled out of the soaked attire and fiddled with your bra, but it too received the same treatment. You were bare from the waist up, but the heat with which Sebastian kissed you, in tandem with the large hands he raised to your breasts, banished the chill. He pulled away, lips parted like a drunk man as he stared at your chest. He hadn’t seen you like this yet, had he? You’d been so caught up in the passion of it all the first time, you hadn’t bothered shedding the unnecessary clothes. This time, though? This time, you wanted him to see all of you.
Before Sebastian could capture your lips again, you dipped your shoulders beneath the warm water once more. For you, it served to smooth your goosepimpled skin; for him — it seemed — the way the water ran down your figure when you stood was desire incarnate. Sebastian’s throat bobbed as he was rendered speechless. Instead, he ran reverent hands up and down your sides, then thumbed over your now pert breasts, drawing a desperate whimper from the back of your throat.
“Fuck, you’re perfect,” he whispered, struggling to step free of his submerged shoes, a sign he likely subscribed to the ‘see all of you’ way of doing things.
You mirrored him, accomplishing the task far faster than him given you’d worn slip-ons and immediately took to unbuttoning his shirt. Your fingers worked quickly. Not against the clock, but definitely toward the goal of seeing him shirtless again. You’d have to be a downright liar to say you hadn’t thought about it at least four times a day since your early morning run-in. When you’d finalized your journey, Sebastian had only just wormed free of his blasted dress shoes; thus, he took to peeling off his shirt in a bid to catch up to you. But you rather enjoyed having the upper hand—probably because part of you knew it wouldn’t be for long.
You flashed forward, framing his freckled features with your hands to kiss him again, effectively pulling him down to your level. It was safe to say it complicated things for him, especially so when you quickly traced a hand down and grabbed his cock properly.
Sebastian broke away from your kiss with a moan that pushed the silencing charm around you to its limits, but you didn’t stop there. You took the higher ground. You stroked him, pulling more euphoric distress from his lungs because you wanted, no, needed him to split the ground beneath you.
“Love,” another vicious groan, “Ah, fuck!” Sebastian battled the last of the linen off of his arms, “Come here.”
Those two words pooled arousal painfully between your legs, especially when he picked you up and carried you to the stairs of the expansive tub. With a balance you were rather impressed by, Sebastian climbed them and hoisted you out of the water, placing you on a once-dry marble step.
The feral brunet followed you out, crawling over you like a siren singing his final tune. His eyes, dark with hunger, sailed over your skin, lingering on parts of you he couldn’t wait to savor.
“So, fucking, perfect,” he lulled, sucking the skin of your throat between his teeth.
You gasped, but the harsh sensation was quickly soothed over with a warm pass of his tongue.
“Every part of you,” his timbre resonated against your skin before he did the same to the nape of your neck and squeezed your side, “You’re all I’ve ever wanted…”
He kissed the bruised skin, running a gentle thumb over it, then continued down your chest.
“Fucking needed,” he crooned, siding to your breast where he took its peak into his mouth.
“Seb~” Your body arched into the sensation. Did he know how he sounded? Hell, did he know what he was saying?
Sebastian hummed against your skin, singing you to your grave as he slid a hand down your hip. With deft fingers, he undid the buttons of your skirt, urging you up to tug it out from beneath you. Discarded you knew not where — cared not where — he hooked the waistband of your underwear, soaked thoroughly for more than one reason.
“Let me show you…” Sebastian mumbled, kissing back up your chest, “…how much I want you…” His lips ghosted up your neck, “… how much I need you…” he held himself over you, gaze unwavering, “…how much I love you.”
With those final three words, he tugged your undergarments against your folds, pulling a strangled cry from your lips. You nodded, but the boy above you still searched your eyes for an answer…
“Show me, Sebastian…”
Sebastian only cocked his head and narrowed his gaze. You knew what he wanted. He’d practically written it on parchment and stuck it to his forehead three weeks ago in Charms. It had been accidental then. This time? You said it with fucking purpose.
“Sebastian, please.”
With a whimper, the Slytherin caught your lips in a hungry kiss that spread your legs like second nature. You rounded your spine, begging him to make good on his request, which he happily obliged. He broke away and slid back into the water, pulling your underwear from your legs.
Sebastian hooked his arms around your hips as he began mouthing at the supple skin of your thighs, flicking his tongue out to swipe over bites he left along the way. When he’d finally reached your center, he parted his lips, hot breath cascading over your nerves as he hovered tantalizingly. You looked at him, the living definition of anxious desire. Your heart was racing for a treasure only Sebastian could guide you to. He was teasing you with something you’d never had before, and yet you knew you needed it. You needed him.
“Sebastian Sallow, I swear to fucking Merlin!” Your voice strained, “Please!” You tried to buck towards him, but the boy tightened his grip.
You frowned, and Sebastian smirked, and just as the result of his cunning expression landed between your legs, so did he. With deep-brown eyes pinned to your own, he pressed his tongue into your entrance and dragged it up to slowly circle your clit with a pressure tantamount to perfection.
“Sebastian!” You cried, slamming back against the stone floor.
Sebastian chuckled softly, then spread you wider with his thumbs and took to trilling the warm, wet muscle faster as he lessened the pressure.
“Oh god Seb, fuck that feels so good.”
Sebastian closed his mouth around you and hummed a long, drawn-out, “mhhmmmmm,” before he sucked your bundle of nerves with poisonous precision. You found the will to sit up on an elbow again. You needed to watch him do it to you, and the sight that met your eyes practically sent you right back into a coma.
Sweat and water dripped down Sebastian’s skin, giving him an ethereal glow against the firelight that danced maliciously in his eyes. He was watching you intently, a grin tugging at the corner of his parted lips when he found you staring. Every sound, every expression, every bat of your eyes… it moved his tongue faster as if he was feeding off the pleasure he was pulling from you like oxygen.
You were lost in him, lost in his gaze that threatened to drag you out to sea and drown you, until he settled two fingers gently at your entrance. You sat up on your hands, nodding feverishly with an anticipation swiftly quenched when he pushed them into you.
“Oh fuck!”
You tried to say his name, but when Sebastian started fucking his fingers up into you, your vessel was dashed violently against a rocky shore. It, in tandem with his persistent ministrations against your clit, had moans, cries, gasps, tears— anything but coherent words, raining from you as a familiar ecstasy grew in your gut.
You wanted to tell the boy what he was doing to you, so you shut your eyes, searching for ample composure, but he was having none of it. The ever-tightening coil went lax. Sebastian had stopped, fingers held inside you as his tongue swiped at his slick lips. He didn’t say anything, only shook his head slightly, and you nodded. You fixed your gaze to his, and a pleased smile settled on his features. He looked down between your legs and started moving his fingers again. He watched them slide in and out of you with a fascination that wound that abandoned coil once more.
“You’re close, love, hmm?” he slithered, looking up at you as he beckoned you closer from inside, “Do you want to cum?”
You nodded, brows drawn in desperation. He dragged his thumb up and pressed it firmly against your clit, “So fucking close,” he whispered, gaze still pinned to his fingers against and inside you, “can fucking feel it.”
“Sebastian~” you pleaded, bucking your hips.
He looked back up at you through dark lashes and hovered his mouth over your cunt once more, like a predator playing with its prey. He needed to know you wanted to drown before he dragged you beneath the waves.
You bucked your hips towards him, and he backed away, but when your frustrated whine admitted defeat, the rich glide of his warm tongue, like a tail through water, returned with fatal intent.
Your chest rose and fell, toes curling against the tide of his fingers and wet swell against your clit. His silken possession was almost complete.
“Give it to me,” Sebastian mumbled against you, thumb swiping just below his tongue as he curled his fingers, “Mhmm— Just like that. Give it to me. Mhmm. Mhmm. Mhmm.”
With a shiver, you realized he’d timed his praise to the pulse of your core around his fingers, and that — in tandem with the lilt of his tone, soaked in satisfaction — hauled you overboard. The ropes of your ship unraveled, and the helm spun loose, whirling you into the chaos of a rapturous storm. You called his name, called the name of the boy who hummed with lethal tenor, devouring you like it was his nature, and you gave into it, into him. The pleasure Sebastian had demanded from your mortal flesh threatened to take you from him, but he wasn’t done with you yet. Warm water cascaded from his bare chest as he’d hauled himself out of the bath and over you, fingers still lazily playing with you. He kissed you, the taste of his tongue serving to bring you back to the land of the living long enough to feel the weight of his cock against your thigh.
“Forgive me, love. It hurts- I can’t- I need you,” Sebastian groaned into your ear, nose nestling into your neck.
Your head lulled to the side, inviting him to place warm, lazy kisses along your neck.
“It’s ok,” you babbled, threading buzzing fingers through his dark curls, “I want you, all of you.”
And you did. You were spent, like a mast that had sunk to the bottom of the sea, but still you tensed weak muscles to tip your hips towards his, effectively slotting him between your folds. He was hot and heavy, pulsing in a way that tethered your fluctuating hearts into one steady beat before he lowered his gaze and pushed himself into you.
“F-Fuck-” Sebastian choked, swollen lips parted as he sank inch by inch into you, “Gods, love… you’re tight.”
And he was big. Really fucking big.
“I know… but you can take it. Took it last time, fit me like you were fucking made for me,” Sebastian said through clenched teeth.
Had you said that out loud? You looked up at him, but your will to understand was silenced by the feeling of him splitting you open.
It was a feeling you’d never get used to and never grow tired of, especially since those were the sounds it elicited from the brunet above. Sebastian bottomed out, whimpering when he retracted his hips and gently fucked an inch or two of himself into you. He was stretching you out, and the restraint it demanded from him was nothing short of delicious, but it didn’t last long. An animalistic growl reverberated from his chest, one that stopped your heart when he manhandled your legs over his thighs, gripped your hips, and straightened his spine.
“Fuck, I have to have you,” he growled, “Gonna fucking take you.”
For a second time that night, you shrank beneath a version of Sebastian you didn’t recognize. The softness of his gaze was gone, and all you could do was nod and whine softly in anticipation. Sebastian pulled back and snapped his hips forward, throwing his head back with a frown and a slack jaw as he fell into a pointed rhythm.
“Fuck Sebastian!” You cried.
You’d thought what he’d given you weeks ago was more than you could handle… but apparently that had been child’s play. His grip tightened, fingers digging into your hips with bruising strength as he speared his cock into you. You watched him through heavy lashes, his neck rounding sideways to reveal dark eyes absent of sanity.
Sebastian, if it was even him anymore, narrowed his brow and sank his canines into his lower lip painfully as he focused on picking up his pace. You didn’t think it was possible, but of course, he proved you wrong. When he’d found a speed to his liking — and mind you, it was ruthless — he let himself watch what he was doing to you.
“Taking this… big dick… so well,” Sebastian said, then bent over you, cock still spearing into you, “like a good fucking girl.” He wrinkled his nose and fucking snarled, lips brushing the shell of your ear, “Think you take it from behind?”
To ask you a question like that while he was actively fucking you senseless was, well, fucking senseless. You nodded, whimpering when he slowed and filled you up to the brim.
With a gentility markedly opposite to the being that had snarled at you, Sebastian took your lips in his with a sigh as he ran a warm hand up and down your frame. His fingers caressed your jaw, traced your breast, drew goosebumps from your abdomen, and slid beneath you to guide you to the edge of the bath. After slipping himself out of you, he turned you over, bringing his other hand to guide your knees onto the first step. A chill ran up your spine when the warm water met your damp skin, but when Sebastian’s body heat hovered over your back, your thermal comfort was the least of your worries.
“If it’s too much, tell me,” he whispered.
You nodded, lip taken between your teeth as he pulled away. Too much? There was more? You shivered when Sebastian robbed you of his warmth and righted himself behind you. You craned your neck to see, jumping when he placed a large hand on your lower back. His warm touch slid forward, pushing against your spine with gentle pressure that eased your shoulders to the stone floor and left your lower half in the air.
“Such a good girl for me,” he murmured, “All fucking mine.”
Sebastian pressed the head of his cock back into you, and fuck did it go deeper. A sigh from the depths of your soul escaped your lips, urging the brunet to find a steady pace, but once his cautionary ministrations proved you were in anything but pain, he descended into madness once more.
With hands that flit desperately between sinking his fingers into your soft skin and pulling you onto his dick by your hips, the sounds that left Sebastian’s throat were of divine origin. You figured it had something to do with the way you’d presented yourself for him, but whatever it was, his moans, whimpers, and cries of your name were a promiscuous lullaby that kindled yet another orgasm in your gut. And then Sebastian hit something that tore a cry from your lungs.
“Oh, fuck! Seb, fuck, oh my fucking gods. Right there. Fuck me right there. Please fuck me— Seb~.”
Sebastian let out a disastrous moan and obeyed, the only change being how fast and how hard he fucked you right there. You wailed, knees trembling when he slid a hand between them and started circling your swollen clit.
“Begging for me to fuck you now, are we, princess? Begging for this cock to fill you up?” he growled.
You choked and spewed ‘yes,’ over and over again. The interrogation had served to fuel the flame in your gut so much so that it was all you could give him. Luckily, it seemed it was more than enough for Sebastian when he wrapped his fingers around your throat and pulled your upper half off the floor and toward him. He squeezed his grip, not enough to rob you of oxygen, but enough to tell you you were his.
“Needy fucking thing.” Sebastian said it as if he resented you for it, but when he mouthed at your throat while he pounded into you harder, you knew he loved it, “Gonna make you cum all over this cock.”
You went limp in his hold. How could he be so shamelessly filthy? Were you complaining? No, absolutely not. You only found yourself wondering where it had all come from. Not twenty-four hours earlier, this same Sebastian had fallen asleep at your bedside, fingers tethered to yours, and the memory was a stark contrast to the way he was using you now… To know all of this—his dark gaze, silver tongue, possessive touch—lay beneath an innocence like that…
Sebastian Sallow was a dirty son of a boggart, and only you would ever know that.
“Gods Seb, I-,” Sebastian quickened his fingers between your legs, derailing your train of thought — and that, in combination with the glorious fact he hadn’t relented against that spot inside of you… You were dangerously close to ‘cumming all over his cock.’
You sobbed, unable to tell him as much, but it didn’t matter — he knew.
Faster than your sex-drunk mind could comprehend, he lowered you back to the stone, pulled out, turned you back over, and shoved himself back inside of you.
“Need to see that pretty face,” he purred, thumbing at your clit as he devoured you with his eyes.
You nodded, and Merlin, you were thankful he’d flipped you back over, because watching Sebastian fuck you to your finish — white-knuckled grip, taut core, sweat-slick curls over a furrowed brow — it was more than you needed to get there.
“Seb- fuck. I’m gonna- fuck… seb~ ast~ ian~.”
You sobbed, unraveling beneath him loudly as you tipped over the edge. Pleasure rolled through you with every snap of his hips, reaching its height when you met his gaze and found the Sebastian you knew watching you come undone.
Those soft, brown eyes of his were back, the slight smile that always hinted in them clear and present. His lips were moving, whispering something you barely picked up, but when it reached your ears, you damn near passed out.
“F-Fuck, I love you,” he whimpered to himself, brows tilted with desperation, “I’ll always be yours, baby— fuck… always be yours.”
Sebastian repeated versions of the veneration over and over, tone growing more desperate as his thrusts lost rhythm and his pleasure pulled him closer to you. He fell into the crook of your shoulder, jolting his hips forward without sentience as desperate whimpers pooled hotly against your skin.
“Gods, love… I’m gonna,” he whined, grip tightening on your thigh, “I’m gonna cum, mmph, gonna— fuuuucckkk…”
Your name, laced within his near-mournful cries, dripped from his lips, only to be silenced when he sank his teeth into you and snapped his hips forward. With a growl, a warmth — his warmth — heated your womb as Sebastian shot rope after rope of his own spend inside of you while his length pumped in and out of you languidly. His hands found and tethered themselves to your sides and squeezed, pinning you down when he bottomed out and shuddered against your pulsing core. You gasped, the deeply possessive nature of it all serving to extend your wave of pleasure from a ripple to a healthy swell.
“Oh gods, Seb,” you huffed, fingers carding into his damp curls.
It was all you could say, but it seemed it said all you hadn’t said as well. Sebastian shivered again with a chuckle, escorted by a satisfied groan and shallow pants.
“That was…” You started, falling your touch to where he’d bitten you, “… insane.”
Sebastian lifted himself over you on shaky arms as the hand that had gripped you with bruising strength drifted up and over your breast like a breeze before bumping into your own hand at your marred flesh.
“Well, I am insane… according to you,” he said with a smirk.
So he had been listening.
“You are,” you answered, “but so was that.”
Sebastian grinned and let his gaze roam over your figure beneath him. He was thinking. You could tell as much by the way he — for one — didn’t whip you with a witty comeback; and two, bat his lashes against an extra blink or two.
“You’re so beautiful,” he hummed, and you couldn’t help but blush at the blatant compliment. It was something that had been far and few between in your relationship with him, let alone with him actively inside of you, but before you could open your mouth and say something stupid to muddle it up, his eyes met yours.
“I love you. So much.”
You smiled, letting the coolness of the room outside of the tub tame your blush, “I love you too, Seb.”
Sebastian smiled softly in return and kissed you. It was gentle, and yet it put weight into the ‘so much’ he’d tacked on to the confession. As he moved his lips against you, he slid his hands beneath you and picked you up. You wrapped your legs around his hips, sighing against his lips when he sat against the side and settled you into a straddle over him, submerging most of the two of you back under the warm water. Being this close to him was a welcome thing, so welcome that you barely hiccupped when he slipped himself out of you.
Sebastian pulled away, cupping a hand to pour warm water over the craftsmanship between your neck and shoulder.
“I think I might’ve broken the silencing charm,” he admitted, biting back a grin.
“Come again?” You asked.
Sebastian smirked, “I’d love to.”
You gave him a playful slap, and the Slytherin tossed his head sideways like you’d given your all into a right hook.
“Sebastian,” you scolded, “are you being serious?”
He shrugged, giving you a pair of puppy eyes that pierced right through your soul. You shook them off of you and sat up on your knees to reach for your wand. Ignoring Sebastian’s more than distracting kisses on your chest, you arched it through a revelio. Sure enough, there was not a charm to be seen, aside from the locking spell that had remained faithful.
“Merlin Seb, we’ve gotta get out of here,” you declared, wriggling out of his grip.
“But it’s so warm,” he complained.
You ignored his whining and pulled yourself out of the water.
“I’ll conjure you a tub in the Room,” you said, charming the two of you towels and pajamas. With the castle protection charms strongly in place, you wouldn’t be apparating there as you had here… speaking of which…
“Sebastian?”
“Hmm?” He hummed, shamelessly watching you run the towel over your frame with a smile on his face.
You rolled your eyes with a smile of your own, “How did you apparate into the castle? You know, with the protection charms and whatnot.”
His smile slithered into a smug grin. He loved knowing things you didn’t.
“Natty let it slip they made a one-time, on the down-low exception for this room because Slytherin prefects kept leaving it locked,” he explained, hoisting himself out of the tub.
Now it was your turn to ‘shamelessly stare,’ and you found yourself blinking in the name of focus as the water droplets running down his back muffled whatever Sebastian was telling you.
“…I’ll take that as a yes.”
“Sorry, what?” You asked, shaking your head.
Sebastian laughed, “I was asking if I could stay with you tonight.”
“I mean, yeeeeah, unless you were planning on dining and dashing.”
“Touché,” the boy replied, slipping the shirt over his head to match the pants he’d stepped into, “You ready?”
You crossed your arms and tapped your wand against your shoulder, “Aren’t you forgetting something?”
Sebastian met your gaze, brows furrowed until his attention landed on your wand, then on the tub.
“Oh,” he blushed, then looked back to you, “Could you?”
You pretended to mull it over, but retrieved it from the depths of the warm water with a flick of your wand.
“Alright, let’s go before we get expelled,” you demanded, tossing him his wand.
Sebastian nodded, vanishing the clothes abandoned in the throes of passion, and followed you to the door. With a quick revelio, you discovered — by the grace of Godric — not a soul stood outside the door. It was nearly 3:00 am, so the two of you decided disillusionment would be a tad overkill considering the nearest flooflame was one flight of stairs away. With wet hair and feet notably absent of shoes, you made your way up a level, and just when the green flow of the flooflame kissed your skin, a pair of footsteps rounded the corner.
“Y/n?”
You froze.
“Sebastian?”
He froze.
Turning on your heel, you practically melted to the floor with relief when you found Natty staring at you, her prefect badge glinting with the pale light from her wand.
“Heyyyy,” you replied, glancing at Sebastian’s wet hair that matched the state of your own.
It seemed Natty noticed too. With a quirk of her brow, she shot you a devious grin and sighed as she pulled a quill and parchment from her pocket.
“Checked - it - out…” she said, clueing you in on what she was scratching onto the note, “Just - a pair - of - happy - ghosts - in - pref. - bath.”
A few decisive folds later, the parchment took the shape of a bird and fluttered to life before it beat its wings and soared around the corner.
You mouthed through a ‘thank you,’ and Natty winked, whistling an anonymous tune as you and Sebastian dipped into the flooflame.
* * *
Pumpkin pasties? Honey crisp apples? Cinnamon ginger tea? Could life get any better than this?
Sebastian, with his arm around your waist, pulled you closer to him, and a hearty laugh rumbled through his chest. No, it didn’t.
“You jumped from a window!?” Ominis exclaimed.
You nodded, grinning over a mouthful of pasty you rushed to chew and swallow.
“Apparated mid-free fall,” you added.
“Mid-free fall-. Are you insane?” Poppy shouted.
“And landed in the prefect’s bathroom,” Natty disclosed with a shake of her head.
Sebastian beamed. He was positively thriving on the disbelief.
“Merlin, I swear you two are aiming for a premature death,” Ominis huffed.
“Keeps us on the edge of our bench,” Sebastian explained, scooting forward to give an image to his idiom, but he’d apparently given it too much gusto when he practically slipped under the table.
You laughed, grabbing at his arm to pull him back up, nearly missing the five awkward ‘ahems’ given from the front of the Great Hall.
When Sebastian had settled himself, you finally turned your reluctant attention to the Headmaster.
“If you would be so kind as to give me just a minute or two of your less-than-precious time, I’d like to make a couple of announcements,” Black snorted as he wriggled his pointed mustache.
“And to think he’s got boils,” you mumbled, pushing your boyfriend to choke on his pumpkin juice.
“First things first, as you all are well aware, the Triwizard tournament was — and still is — to be hosted by Hogwarts at the start of the winter term.”
Murmurs filled the hall as conversations sparked like fireflies, all concerned with what seventh-year might be the 1892/93 champion.
“However, there has been a change of consequence!” Black bellowed, earning the undivided attention of all, “Beauxbatons Academy of Magic will be unable to join us due to reasons they’ve asked me not to disclose.”
Now the room buzzed with a male tenor. You rolled your eyes at Nat and Pop, who held much the same sentiment. At least Sebastian — one hand on your thigh, the other occupied with a pasty — hadn’t given it the time of day.
“Be that as it may,” Black continued, “The TRIwizard tournament will remain as such, given another institution has taken Beauxbaton’s place in the event.”
Sebastian stopped chewing. It was no secret he’d planned on putting his name in the Goblet of Fire, so the revelation was more than needed for him.
“We shall be pleased to welcome, for the first time in Hogwarts’ history, a sister school from across the globe: Castelobruxo.”
- - -
<<< Previous Chapter
Author's Note: And that's a wrap... holy shyt. Now look, did I set it up for a "Book 2"... permaychancebe... BUT IT WAS JUST TOO GOOD NOT TO END THIS WAY.
As always, I hope you all enjoyed An Honest Challenge! It was SO much fun to write and an escape I needed to get through the last year. Though this fic has come to a close, I will continue to write/draw/go bonkers in general. Love you all and THANK YOU SO MUCH for all the support <3 MWAH
An Honest Challenge PART 13 - Sebastian Sallow x F!Reader
Summary: Your hand still in his, he... looked at you through wind-swept hair, smile growing as you started to shake your head.
"You're mad!"
Sebastian beamed, "Only a little."
Warnings: aged-up characters, brief sexual allusions, language
Word Count: ~4,300
Part 1 || All parts linked on my masterlist!
Chapter 13 | An Honorable Crusade
Tomato soup and Cornish pasties were on the menu tonight. The former flowed from pot to simmering pot down each table, connected by pipes that sported two or so faucets in between. When it came to feeding six hundred students, you had to give Hogwarts creative credit where credit was due. You couldn’t imagine the chaos — let alone the mess — one ladle per twenty students would’ve caused.
That was the narrow, one-lane alley you drove your thoughts down as you poured yourself another bowl of soup. You couldn’t risk the freedom of the open road, because currently, all roads led to the image of Sebastian knelt between your legs.
You side-eyed the boy who’d forgone his spoon and was drinking from his bowl like a man starved. Was he even affected? You shook your head and cleared your throat.
“So, what do you say Ominis?” You asked, leaning on an elbow, “Down to purge the castle of pureblood tom-foolery?”
The blonde boy sighed and stirred at his soup aimlessly, “You said it burned your veins?” He’d aimed the question at Sebastian.
“Like hell,” his target answered through a bite of pasty.
“I still can’t believe something like that even exists! It’s positively medieval!” Natty added, shooting you a wink.
Poppy caught it and slammed her mug down, “Yeah! If we don’t get rid of it, we’re just as bad as them!”
Sebastian grinned at them, then you, then at Ominis whose brow had donned its characteristic wrinkle — likely hand-carved by your and Sebastian’s revived antics, “Fiiiinnnneee.”
You sighed with relief, and Sebastian started celebrating ‘silently,’ that is, yanking alternating fists to his chest as he mouthed ‘yes’ over and over again.
“Sebastian, calm down,” Ominis pleaded and the brunet sobered up instantly, turning back to his soup.
You laughed, “Thank you, Ominis, really. I just don’t think I could enjoy my last year here without knowing what happened to him.”
“Me neither,” Poppy added, “I always knew he was insane.”
You tossed a finger of approval in her direction, and the Hufflepuff nodded before catching a random Slytherin at the table staring. She sat still, narrowed her eyes at them, then jolted forward— scaring the poor kid.
Natty and you chuckled, shaking your heads. If the three of you hadn’t normalized cross-house dining by this point, you were sure Poppy alone would intimidate Hogwarts into the acceptance of it.
“So, is there a set time for this honorable delinquency?” Ominis asked, pulling your attention back to the subject at hand.
“Midnight?” Sebastian suggested.
You nodded, “Yeah, works for me.”
Poppy held a thumbs up and Natty started to nod, but then stopped herself, “As long as we’re snappy about it. I’ve got a prefect shift at 2:00.”
Both Ominis and Sebastian turned their heads toward the girl, simultaneously blurting out questions that mirrored their priorities:
“You’re coming too!? Who else!? Might as well bring the whole school!”
“2:00?! AM!? You do that shit for free!?”
Natty’s eyes bounced between the two Slytherins, her shocked gaze muddled by an amused smile that fell on you. You shook your head, giving her a look that said ‘welcome to house Slytherin.’ The Gryffindor laughed and looked at Ominis, “Yes, I’m coming… and so is Poppy,” then turned to Sebastian, “...and yes, I do that ‘shit’ for free.”
Both boys scoffed. You rolled your eyes, “Alright, so midnight, that’s settled. Now where are we meeting?”
“Top of the grand staircase?” Poppy asked.
Sebastian shook his head and took a casual bite of bread, “If you want to get caught, go for it.”
“Oh, you-,” she started, but Ominis interrupted her, “Then where ‘oh Elusive One?’”
Poppy looked up at the Slytherin next to her, scooting closer to him unconsciously with a devious grin before locking eyes on the Slytherin across from her.
Sebastian narrowed his gaze at his smug roommate, “It’s ok, I don’t have to tell you,” he tossed his bread back onto his plate, took a swig from his mug, then pulled you flush against him by your thigh, “Y/n and I will wait for you there, and when you don’t show within the hour, I’ll make sure to make an impromptu stop by detention tomorrow morning.”
Poppy once again looked to Ominis, anxious for a rebuttal, but her star player deflated with a sigh, “Alright fine, I take it back.”
Sebastian squeezed your leg, and, with a bat of his dark lashes, began sliding his fingers up your thigh. Now your boyfriend — could you call him that? You choked on a spoonful of soup when his smallest finger settled in the crease of your thigh. Yeah, you were going to call him that.
Now your boyfriend, touch trespassing far beyond simple affection, smirked, an expression he had to know had nearly killed you not thirty minutes earlier. You wrapped your fingers around his wrist and chucked his hand off your leg. Sebastian snapped his attention to you, wrist cradled against his abdomen like you’d broken it. The gall.
You shook your head, crossing your legs with a glare that said he would not be allowed to touch you — nor simper and smirk like that — until you’d read ‘expelled’ next to Garreth fucking Weasley’s name.
Sebastian’s wounded mooncalf persona shifted like a boggart, quickly taking the form of a hungry mongrel… and when your boyfriend flashed his canine and swiped his tongue over it, you frantically pinned your attention to pouring yourself another bowl of soup. Suffice it to say, the excruciatingly handsome brunet had declared ‘checkmate’ with a simple bat of his eye and a sideways smile.
“We meet in the trophy room.” He said, spreading his legs so his thigh was flush with your’s, "It’s got multiple exits and it’s only a hop, skip, and a jump away from the book.”
Ominis huffed, “It is with a level of humility you can never hope to achieve I admit you’re right, Sebastian.”
“I do make a habit of it,” Sebastian smiled coyly, physically dimming the glow of Ominis’ wand, “So that’s the plan. Tonight. Midnight. Trophy Room. Don’t be late.” He stated, sliding his hand back onto your thigh.
Everyone nodded with varying degrees of emotion. Natty, with inspiration; Ominis, with worn regret; Poppy with the eye roll of the century. And you? With the acceptance you were in for a long night.
* * *
-~- Sebastian -~-
You knew what you were you doing. You had to of.
You lay on your stomach, propped up on your elbows as your feet kicked aimlessly in the air. You’d donned your problem-solving face, working your bottom lip between your teeth; and for all this, Sebastian sat — fortunately/unfortunately — at his desk with a direct view down your blouse. You shifted and he blushed, crossing his legs.
“Sebastian, are you even listening?” Ominis asked.
Sebastian nodded, so willingly entranced he missed the implication of the silence.
“He’s not,” you answered.
“Sorry, just tired,” he mumbled as he gave you one last shameless scan before looking to his roommate, “What did you say?”
Ominis sighed, “I was asking how you plan on sneaking me — a blind person — up one thousand flights of stairs.”
Sebastian watched the red glow from his wand “draw” a jagged set of stairs. It was a good question, and one he hadn’t ever had to think about. While Ominis had been his wingman since they’d been first year’s donning those stupid hats, said ‘wingman’ hadn’t really done much ‘flying.’
“Well, for starters, you can’t be wavin’ that red orb around — Point, blank, period,” he puffed.
“Then that limits our options to next to none,” Ominis replied.
The chair beneath Sebastian scraped against the stone as he stood to his feet and propped himself on two arms over his desk, “I don’t know… just-”
“I could always guide you, Ominis?” You tried.
Sebastian frowned. He didn’t like the sound of that. He turned, tacking his eyes to your own, “Or we could turn him into a mouse. Stuff him in a bag.”
Now you frowned, “Oh, that’s not-”
“We could move faster.” He continued, letting a smug grin tug at the corner of his lips, “It’s only logical.”
Ominis scoffed and stood from his own chair, padded over to Sebastian’s bed with practiced elegance, and leaned against its post.
“If I have any say here — I’m siding with y/n on this,” he said.
Sebastian wanted to inform his blonde friend he didn’t have any say, but his face must’ve said as much since you were quick to steal his stage.
“Thank you, Ominis, and yes, you do have say here,” you asserted, rolling off of Sebastian’s bed to stand next to his spindly friend, “If I guide him, he can cast disillusionment without needing his wand to navigate.”
It was a good point. He continued anyway. “But-”
“Democracy, Sebastian,” you interrupted, finalizing your answer by guiding your arm around Ominis', “You know this castle like the back of your hand. You lead the way, we follow.”
Sebastian closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose. The sight had festered something in his chest he absolutely didn’t want to get into. There had to be another option.
“And how are you supposed to follow me if I’m under disillusionment?”
“You followed me perfectly fine that first time we snuck into the restricted section, did you not?” You quipped.
“First time? How many times have you two been in there?” Ominis’ voice strained.
Sebastian ignored him and narrowed his eyes at you, but you stared right back, brows beginning to raise with a hint of amusement. You’d read and labeled what festered in his chest — seen it behind his eyes, heard it in his tone. You didn’t need ancient magic, nor legilimency — it was just plain knowing, “Fine, but if I have to choose between getting caught or turning him into weasel, I’m turning him into a weasel.”
“For the record, I prefer the mouse,” Ominis said beside you, blissfully ignorant of the unspoken duel that had just taken place.
“Noted,” the brunet snapped, and turned toward the door.
* * *
Sebastian would’ve felt bad for his increasingly bad attitude if it weren’t for another ‘plain knowing’ he couldn’t explain: there was reward in showing you he was upset. Said intuition — in combination with the memory of you over him, his tie wound around your palm like a leash — brought him to the conclusion he was only polishing a coffin he would willingly lay in.
And after he was done with that, he made sure to plant flowers overhead by constantly checking on you as the three of you made your way through the castle. Was such tab keeping made easier because he couldn’t actually see you tethered to Ominis? He checked the box ‘prefer not to answer’ with gusto. He had other things to concern himself with. He needed to get to that book, let you disintegrate that barrier, and confirm Garreth fucking Weasley was gone for good… because once all of that was said and done, he could ‘get you all to himself.’
Normally he’d kick himself for such brutish motivation, but given how civilized he’d been since what he considered the ‘cockblock of the century,’ he let such savagery put one foot in front of the other.
“How much further?” Ominis whispered from behind.
“It’s just around the corner,” Sebastian replied, pausing to peer around a doorway to clear the hall of prefects before he stole forward.
He rounded said corner, dipping into the Trophy Room and behind a large case. The cool glass of the display relaxed his shoulders as he side-stepped, giving you and Ominis space beside him.
Sebastian looked at his watch. A couple past midnight. It had been a long journey. Disillusionment was great, but its sordid side-effect of rendering limbs numb after too long had forced the three of you to make multiple stops. He sighed, rather pleased your two friends were late because that meant he could finally sit down. Sebastian pulled the enchantment from his skin and was about to do so when a voice on his left scared the living jelly slugs out of him.
“Ouch!” It whispered, and when he turned, he found Poppy materializing not far from Natty, “You stepped on my foot, you oaf!”
After he’d gathered himself, Sebastian put his entire soul into a disgruntled huff, “Well, what’d you expect? You were invisible and you’re like the size of a gobstone.”
Natty laughed behind her and the Hufflepuff whirled around, but Natty shook her head and looked at you. Sebastian followed her gaze and found you confused.
“Oh yeah,” Natty said quietly, alternating a pointed finger between herself, Poppy, and Sebastian, “We’re friends now, since like two weeks ago.”
You a cocked brow, your own finger wagging between him and Poppy specifically, “Friends?”
He shrugged while Natty said “Yes,” and Poppy shook her head with a defiant “No.”
Stalemate, or rather, that’s what it would’ve been if Ominis hadn’t sighed and declared, “If you’re sneaking around after curfew, breaking into places you shouldn’t be, I fear you are friends with Sebastian Sallow.”
Sebastian parted his lips to protest, but when he made eye contact with you, and you started to grin, he realized it was nothing but the cold, hard truth.
“Ha ha,” he laughed robotically, “If you all are done pining after getting to be one of the few friends I keep around, what do you say we get to disintegrating that barrier and reading that book?” He paused, eyes flitting to your arm around Ominis' and back up to your gaze, “Y/n and I have got places to be… things to do.”
Without any nearby windows, your features were bathed in the grey that comes in the absence of light, and yet, he knew you wore a blush that rivaled the sky behind a setting sun.
“Me too,” Natty replied, an innocent homage to her prefect shift while Ominis shut his eyes, and Poppy started gagging, declaring she was going to go get herself caught.
“Be my guest,” Sebastian quipped, “or get your diricawls in a row and let’s get going.”
He turned toward you, meeting your gaze with a shake of his head while Natty asked her shorter friend, “Wait, why were you gagging?”
The ensuing conversation behind him threatened to be the final fluxweed that broke the thestral’s back, that is, until your soft touch cut the bushel from its side entirely. Your hand wound around his arm, and you leaned toward his ear and whispered, “Lead the way, love.”
Your breath against his neck did two things simultaneously: one, shot all blood south; and two, cleared his mind so he could soldier forward with purpose.
“Stay close and stay under disillusionment,” he commanded, his tone lower than he’d expected, but it earned him unimpeded obedience.
No complaints. No smart remarks. Not a sound. Sebastian crouched, looked over his shoulder at you, nodded, and then his skin was bathed in a steady hum. He headed for the first set of stairs, passing through an imposing metal gate that led to a slithering corridor. Every winding turn could have very well held Headmaster Black himself, but Sebastian was a man on a mission. In good time he was met with the greenish-purplish glow of paper lanterns that floated up the center of a spiral staircase jutting up into oblivion. Sebastian had always wondered why Hogwarts didn’t have physical education courses, but after he topped the final coil of stairs, he had a pretty good idea why. Still, like a breeze, the boy carved right and came to a stop at a hall lined with winged beasts. Finally.
With a huff he wound his wand over himself and back to the land of the seeing, finalizing his journey a few steps before a metallic door.
“Holy shit,” Poppy heaved from behind, “you unlocked that thing?”
Sebastian stared at the ‘elaborate’ mechanism that was really all bark and no bite, but the girl who was quickly shaping up to be his mortal enemy didn’t need to know that. Instead, he closed his eyes and turned his ear to the door, flicking his wand and rotating his wrist with calculated precision. The door whirred to life, and Sebastian listened for the telling clicks and grinding gears that told him how to manipulate the craftsmanship until, with a step backward and a final turn of his wrist, the door swung open.
“You really just did that,” Natty said softly, more to herself than anyone, but still you replied, “He did,” and Sebastian smiled to himself.
“I have to give it you, Sebastian,” Ominis admitted, “You’ve got a talent. It’ll probably get you arrested, but it’s a talent nonetheless.”
“Thanks,” he replied, surveying the open archway as if he couldn’t tell if it was dead or asleep, “You’re sure you’re a pureblood?”
“Unfortunately.”
Ominis’ wand blossomed to life and the boy planted his feet just outside the open door. He rolled up his sleeve, trilled his fingers as if they were drumming aimlessly atop a desk, then pushed his hand through. Something happened, but it was a whole lot more pleasant than what had happened to Sebastian. Ominis’ pale skin began to glow as a dim, pure, white light snaked through his veins. He shuttered, stepping through it entirely before he turned around and ‘looked’ back at his friends with a hollow expression.
Sebastian turned to find Natty and Poppy borderline bewitched by what they’d witnessed, but you? Miss Business. You stormed up to the door, fingers white-knuckled around your wand.
“What do I do, Ominis?” You asked, “How do I destroy it?”
Ominis paused and stared through you as the red glow from his wand began to pulse, “You can’t create one of these unless you enchant a family heirloom to guard the space…” He frowned, then turned and crouched near a chest to reach behind it. “…like this.”
Held in his hand was a small, stone crow, roughly the size of a chess pawn, “…but the problem is, I have no idea how to destroy it.”
You donned your problem-solving face, and then — with a tone that once again flashed the image of you holding him by his tie — you reached a conclusion, “Put it on the ground and come back through. I want to try something, but I’m not sure it will be able to decipher between you and the heirloom.”
Ominis nodded and did as he was told, his veins glowing briefly as he exited while Sebastian still frowned at the prospect of “it.” He knew you were referring to your ability, but something about personifying it sent a rush of morbid curiosity through him.
An eerie silence settled once Ominis’ footsteps had come to rest next to Sebastian; and yet, something filled his lungs and made his hair stand on end: ancient magic. After being witness to your power countless times, Sebastian likened it to the feeling one gets when someone closes their eyes and holds a hand near their forehead. A strange analogy, he was aware, but it was the only way he could describe the near-alien ability. He couldn’t see it, but its presence was palpable.
Your wand, which had been lowered gracefully at your side, started to pull back, thickening the air immensely. Ominis winced like one would against a bright light and moved back, but Sebastian mindlessly stepped forward.
Now a black glow emanated from your wand, warping the space around it to give way to a writhing shadow. You welcomed it, tilting your head with a deep breath that spoke to relief. Then, in the blink of an eye, you sliced your wand forward, and a brilliant purple shot and struck the crow, causing it to implode in on itself.
A deafening roar rattled the room as a shockwave thundered in all directions, climbing up the invisible barrier before it turned it to dust. Pebbles were shaken loose from overhead, and rolling echoes reverberated from deeper within the castle.
It was safe to say every single faculty member, dead or alive, squib or magical, had heard that. But Sebastian wasn’t worried. No, he was enthralled… hypnotized…turned on?
“Did it work?” Natty asked, spurring Ominis to pass through the arch once more.
His veins didn’t glow, “I think so. I can’t feel it anymore.”
He walked back with an opaque smile, his movement whisking at the smoke that still rose from your wand.
“That’s great, really, but the whole damn castle heard that,” Poppy exclaimed.
“I fear I have to concur,” Natty said, “We have to go before we’re trapped up here.”
“You guys go,” You said, staring at your wand with a mix of regret and veneration, “I need to know.”
“And leave you up here? You’ll get caught!” Poppy asked.
“She won’t,” Sebastian cut in, “Trust me. You guys go, you too Ominis. We’ll update you all tomorrow morning.”
“But there’s no where to go,” Natty reminded.
Sebastian looked over his shoulder and found you already climbing the spiral stairs beyond the opened door. Natty was right. There wasn’t anywhere to go… conventionally, but she didn’t need to know that.
He met Natty’s gaze with a grin, “There is, trust me.”
Natty gave him a suspicious glare, but took Ominis’ arm in her’s and disappeared around the corner with Poppy. Sebastian turned on a galleon and hesitantly stepped over the threshold. Once through unharmed, he shut the door behind him and took the stairs by twos and threes.
When he reached the landing, he found you stood dutifully before the Book of Admittance, hair lit by equal parts candlelight and moonlight.
“Found what you’re looking for?” He asked softly, looking over your shoulder.
You traced a finger lightly down the massive page and his eyes blurred at the sheer amount of ‘so’n’so Weasleys’ on the page, but he blinked and followed your touch through the names until it came to a stop and sided right to ‘Garreth.’
As soon as you landed on his name, you retracted your hand into a soft fist. Sebastian stood closer to you, lifting his own touch to pick up where you'd left off, his other hand falling to the small of your back.
You looked away, seeming to lean further into him as the revelation took root.
“Opposite side of the globe…” you thought aloud, “in the middle of the Amazon rainforest… surrounded by Caipora…”
Sebastian nodded, “Are you ok with that?”
He looked down at you, but you just stared at the page, blinking with gentle acceptance.
“Azkaban doesn’t change people…” you started.
His eyes fell to Garreth's name. Undeserved grace. It knew Sebastian personally.
“It ruins them," he finished.
He met your gaze, reaching a level of closure words could never have achieved on their own. It was something only you and he would ever understand. You lifted your touch to close the book, and when you did, the sound of door to the tower opening turned both of your heads over your shoulders.
“A student unlocked this door?”
Professor Sharp.
“That’s what me maps told me, and they don’t ever lie.”
Mr. Moon.
Sebastian looked down at you and you up at him.
“Disillusionment, now.” You whispered, "This was my idea. I'm taking the fall for this."
“Absolutely not," he declared.
You frowned at him, drawing closer to him as the men's footsteps grew louder, "Sebastian Sallow, now is not the time to be honorable! Shut up, hide, cut our losses, and let me get caught!"
Sebastian just grinned, "Who said anything about getting caught?"
“There’s no where else to go!” You exclaimed, but with a quick scan of his now wicked grin, you read right through him. “Sebastian…” you said it like a warning.
Boy, were you going to hate this.
In one fluid motion he slid off of the step behind you, thread his fingers in your’s, and led you to one of the windows that lined the walls. With purpose he unlatched the ornate pane, pushed it open, and a gust of wind ripped through the cove. Stacks of paper took to the air and the candles around the Book of Admittance extinguished.
“Who’s up there!” Mr Moon demanded, administrative urgency increasing in speed and purpose.
Your hand still in his, he stepped up onto the sill and looked at you through wind-swept hair, smile growing as you started to shake your head.
"You're mad!"
Sebastian beamed, "Only a little."
You scoffed, hair flowing wildly as you likely scanned the room for a nonexistent exit.
"Do you trust me?" he asked over a gust of wind.
You turned back to him, complexion enchanted by moonlight with that gorgeous smile of your's. It was hesitant, but trusting; terrified, but exhilarated.
"Always."
With that he helped you up next to him and pulled you close.
Deliberation? A simple flick of the wrist.
Destination? Clear.
Determination? Explicit.
Sebastian tightened his arm around you, looking down to find your gaze before you hugged him tight and shut your eyes. With one last look at the book, he tipped backward and fell over the edge, thrusting the two of you into a momentary free fall cut short by a woosh and a loud crack.
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