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Chapter Text

Sebastian

He had been dramatic in aspects of his life, but looking around Hogsmeade for school supplies with Anne and Uncle Solomon after the summer he had, he couldn’t be any less dramatic if he tried. 

His uncle hovered closer to Anne than he had ever before. He stopped and investigated every alleyway or corner, paranoia taking over any other personality traits that might have been buried in the old Auror. 

Anne looked miserable. She knew the curse was there, but it hadn’t affected her too much since the first week after it settled. She kept casting glances back at Sebastian to encourage some sort of teasing, but he couldn’t bring himself to come up with anything. Her disappointment only fueled his guilt.

The day carried on like any other. He thought of writing to Ominis, but when he sat at his desk he couldn’t come up with the words to explain the hollowness that had captured his being. Had Anne already told their friend about what he had failed to do? He hoped Ominis blamed him as harshly as he did himself, but what words would suffice?

Somewhere in his depressive musings, he wished that Sloane and Ominis had stayed the whole summer. Two friends for them to stay occupied and out of trouble. Like most of their summers. Yet, something had called both of them away early, and so too was the twin’s impulse control.

How disastrous that had been.

The next few days preparing to go back to Hogwarts amidst a few more doctor’s appointments, flew by in a haze. He had grown tired of each adult telling them that there didn’t seem to be anything wrong with Anne. They couldn’t fix what didn’t seem to be there. Of course, they believed them that the curse existed, but there was nothing to be done.

By the time that he made it in the Great Hall, his head was full of checklists. He needed to keep his grades up, so he could search the castle’s library top to bottom. If anywhere had the answer he sought, it would be here. He didn’t care what rules he would have to break. If the best Curse Breakers and doctors couldn’t help his sister, he would become better than them. 

The feast tasted like ash. It didn’t matter that the spread in front of him was more meat than he could eat or macaroons and other pastries as far as the eye could see. 

Anne kept throwing worried glances his way as he picked through his meal. 

Ominis said nothing at the display, opting to encourage Anne to eat a little more and leave her twin alone. But his head tilted to the side, before his gaze shifted towards the large doors. There was a lull in the sorting ceremony, but none of the other students seemed to notice. He leaned behind Anne to whisper to the two of them, “Something’s happening.”

The words slowly slid through Sebastian’s mind, exhaustion turning his mind to a bowl of molasses. “What…” he trailed off as Headmaster Black strode down the stairs.

The twins’ gazes followed him. Anticipation building the faster the headmaster’s strides became.

“What is happening?” 

“Headmaster Black is going to the—Is that Professor Fig?” Anne gasped, grabbing a hold of Ominis’ forearm.

Sebastian caught in the corner of his eye how she reached for her side soon after, bending forward slightly. He pursed his lips, praying the flare up wasn’t too terrible or long lasting. 

Their headmaster threw his hands up as he exited the Great Hall. He only disappeared for a few moments before Professor Fig was dutifully following him back to the Professor’s Table. 

Behind them was a girl. Shimmering, starlit hair swayed as she paraded between the tables. Her steps had the swagger one would expect from someone who just interrupted the Sorting Ceremony. She didn’t even have her classrobes on like the rest of them. Two Gryffindor boys leaned back and waved to her. One nearly fell off the bench.

Weasley and Prewett.

“Is that Sloane?” Anne exclaimed, turning to Sebastian with wide eyes. 

He blinked, exhaustion giving way to curiosity. He watched her smirk and shrug at the two idiots. They made room for her, almost pushing someone off the bench so she could fit next to them. “I thought she had brown hair,” he muttered, absentmindedly. 

Prewett was whispering animatedly, his hands rising and falling as he interrogated her. Weasley sat quietly and watched the other two. Jealousy prickled up Sebastian’s spine at their closeness and cluelessness.

Ominis snorted. “Your not-so-secret Gryffindor friend?”

“If someone helps you pass Transfiguration, you repay the debt.”

“By being friends with them?”

“You boys wouldn’t understand,” she grumbled in mock annoyance.

The blond bumped her shoulder with his. “Admit that you like being able to talk to another girl. We won’t judge you.”

Before Anne could answer, her brother turned away from the Gryffindors and asked, “Why do you think she was late?”

The two looked bewildered for a moment, pulled out of their teasing to acknowledge Sebastian. 

“Oh, it might have to do with the extra training she wrote to me about.” Anne’s eyebrows furrowed as she said, “It’s why she had to leave early while she was staying with us.”

His mind instantly conjured how he remembered her from the beginning of July. Long brown hair with curls that were always escaping from her braid as Anne and her cooked or rode brooms. She barely wore her own clothes, opting to borrow any spare trousers his sister had. This summer, he had begun to wonder if the only reason Anne ever asked for them was for her time with her best friend. His mind wandered further into his memories. She was taller and curvier than he remembered. Her laugh stuck in his head, especially when she would snort at a particularly good joke Anne told her.

Sloane’s demeanor was completely different in Feldcroft. He had always seen her obsessively cleaning her clothes, knowing Scourgify before any of her classmates. While she was with them, she would help Uncle Solomon and him in the fields, but wasn’t let near any of the plants once they started growing. She would offer to cook every meal, making a horrible mess in the kitchen until either his uncle or Anne assisted. There was an ease about her that wasn’t present elsewhere, especially Hogwarts.

He had forgotten all about her after Anne had become cursed. His curiosity about Sloane’s new changes and his guilt warred in his stomach. 

“I wonder what happened to her hair. Do you think it’s a potion or she was able to transfigure it?” Anne broke him from his thoughts. Concern furrowed her eyebrows again. She must have caught the guilty pull of his lips and the scrunch of his nose. 

He shrugged, nonchalantly. “I’m sure you could ask her if you want to change yours, but I don’t know how much Uncle will like that.”

She seemed satisfied with his answer, feeling that she had sufficiently distracted him. She hummed, “I think I might. I’ll have to catch her before we separate.”

His gaze found its way back to the Gryffindor witch. She was laughing, grasping Weasley’s shoulder as if her life depended on it. Her head was thrown back without a care as Prewett raised a goblet to toast her outstretched one.

Though, as if she could feel his eyes on her, she began to turn, but Headmaster Black called out, “I said, I’m sure you have plenty to do before classes start tomorrow!”

Anne bounced up, muttering, “Ominis watch Sebastian.”

Her brother looked completely affronted while Ominis continued to sit with a smug tilt to his lips. “Of course I will. Behave, Sebastian.”

He rolled his eyes, suppressing a growl at their antics. “How wonderful it is to be back here with the two of you.”

His best friend’s expression softened as he sighed, “I wish I had been able to spend August with you, but my family…” He waved a hand as he tried to find the right words. “They declared that I should start thinking about the future. They dragged me to balls and other various parties. It was obnoxiously boring. I would have rather been swimming with you and Anne.”

“What are you supposed to do at ‘balls and other various parties’?” Sebastian scowled, finding there was a kernel of jealousy about not working through the hottest months of the year.

“Well, I must be on the hunt for a wife,” he growled, standing from his seat. He was unable to stand still, accidentally bumping into Imelda as he trudged away. She was indignant when she realized he wasn’t going to apologize. She waved her hands, but neither boy cared about her anger.

The kernel disappeared.

“A wife? Ominis, we’re fifth years!” He stumbled over his own feet to try and catch up. “We have three years until we graduate! Why do they want you looking now?”

“Since I’m such a failure, I might as well marry young to continue the Gaunt name.”

The pair stood outside the doors of the Great Hall as students chatted around them. They spied Anne and Sloane talking excitedly near a bored Weasley. Prewett must have escaped as soon as he saw Anne coming.

Sebastian slouched, running a hand through his curls. He opened his mouth to say more, but Anne came bounding over to them. She turned once to wave at Sloane. Weasley and she laughed, waving as comically as Anne. They made their way down the stairs laughing and shoving each other. 

“She said she’s going to tell me everything after classes tomorrow, but she made me promise that I can’t tell either of you,” Anne sang as they made their way towards their common room.

Her brother pursed his lips, swallowing before asking, “Well, what can you tell us? Is her class schedule even a secret?”

Ominis raised an eyebrow, frowning slightly at his tone, but thankfully his twin didn’t notice, and said, “Well, we have Transfiguration together again, but I think the two of you have potions with her. I’d have to look at our schedules again.”

He hummed, playing it off as the blond continued to stare at him. “At least you’ll have another year of her tutoring skills.”

“It's unfortunate that she’s suddenly interested in clubs and Quidditch this year. She said she’s going to be rather busy all year, but she would make time for me.” His sister beamed.

It caused his chest to ache, wondering if Sloane knew what had happened over the summer. Was she trying to distance herself? Or was she going to run herself ragged for the sake of his sister? If it was the latter, at least they would have another thing in common. 

“Wait, Quidditch?” He frowned. “She’s never tried out before.”

“I know! But it seems like over the summer Hensley must have finally convinced her. She’ll give you a run for your money!”

Sebastian scoffed, but continued peppering his sister with questions about her friend. All the while, Ominis kept shooting him quizzical glances. They stayed on one of the couches, near the glass looking out into the lake, until Gregor, their prefect, started shooing them into their dorms.

As the three other boys headed off to the showers before bed, Ominis took his chance to corner Sebastian. “You showed more interest in Sloane these past few hours than you ever have while she’s been friends with Anne,” he accused. 

He grimaced, wondering if he had been too obvious. Anne hadn’t seemed to be upset about the amount of questions, so he played it off. “I wanted to see if she would be a big enough distraction while I researched, but it seems like she won’t be.”

“I don’t think Anne would be unhappy if you spent some of your time doing other things besides research.”

“I have to do this. I need to fix this no matter what,” he snapped. “I should have been able to protect her. I will make this up to her, if it's the last thing I do.”

“I knew you would say that.” The blond sat down on his bed, next to Sebastian’s, and covered his face in his hands. “Promise me that you won’t do anything rash. Anne would be devastated if she lost you.”

Sebastian set his jaw, knowing he would have to lie. “I promise,” he said, firmly. If Anne was able to live a normal life and Sebastian wasn’t, well, that was a price he was willing to pay. He was the one that suggested they go out. He was the one responsible.

The rest of the night was filled with quiet snores and Sebastian staring up at his canopy. His thoughts bounced from his sister’s horrified face as she was hit with the curse and the way Sloane had entered the Great Hall. He didn’t know when he fell asleep, but, thankfully, it was without the usual nightmares.

Chapter Text

Sloane

Garreth held out a goblet for her to take. Her eyes flickered down to the contents, then back to him. “I won’t drink it until you tell me what it is.” The liquid was almost completely black and had an interestingly pleasant aroma. Steam wafted off it, but the goblet was charmed to keep the heat from her fingers. 

“What’s the fun in that?” Garreth smirked as he sipped his own goblet.

Leander was off soaking up as much first year attention as he could. Sloane’s eyes slid away from her friend in front of her to the other boy. He had gotten taller over the summer, but it didn’t seem like his childish want for attention had disappeared with it. 

She sighed, taking one more hesitant look at her goblet, before she took her own sip. She coughed, eyes narrowing into a glare as she spat, “What is this? There’s so much cinnamon? Is that what this is? Oh, Merlin, it’s so spicy! How do you drink this?”

“Hm, it’s supposed to have enough milk that it negates most of the spiciness. It looks like I forgot to do that for yours.”

Her betrayal was met with a playful smirk as he raised his goblet to his lips again. She rolled her eyes, grumbling, “Missed you too, Garreth.”

“I hardly had time to think of you while I was traveling around India.”

“Oh, you got to travel to India this year? I wish.”

“Where did you go then?” He raised his eyebrow at her deflated expression, taking her goblet. He waved his wand and the drink's color brightened to a light tan. 

It was much more palatable the second time around. “I don’t know if I can tell you.”

His eyes widened and his head tilted. “Too big to even tell your oldest friend?”

Her lips pursed at the accusation, but when her eyes flickered to Leander walking over, she muttered out the corner of her mouth, “Maybe later.”

Garreth barely nodded, but was able to conjure a pleasant enough grin when the third of their trio finally walked over. “Find any first years you like?” 

Leander scoffed, giving the other red head a sharp glare.

Choosing to ignore the odd exchange between the two, she passed her drink to Garreth. “Thanks, but I have to get to class. I’ll see you at lunch!”

Before either boy could protest, Sloane had made it halfway out of the tunnel. She waved to The Fat Lady as she rushed down the hall. 

Sloane passed familiar faces that gave her peculiar looks for her tight robes and new hair color. She hadn’t thought she’d grown so much over the summer, but her fourth year clothes made that abundantly clear. She knew her hair would be something of contention, but Professor Fig had helped her accept her own oddness this summer. 

When she pushed out into the castle’s courtyard, she let her anxieties fall away. Professor Fig had a plan of research and her part was to continue school like normal. If she had a better understanding of regular magic, it could translate into controlling her other aspects. Or, at least, that’s what Professor Fig theorized.

Now, it was time for Beasts Class. One of the easiest classes in her opinion and an even better way to start her new year at Hogwarts.

It went surprisingly well. She knew it would be a breeze, but she didn’t expect to get two bullies a week’s worth of detention and ten points for Gryffindor. Poppy Sweeting did most of the work, earning Hufflepuff a total of thirty points for standing up for Persephone, an adorably perceptive kneazle. With a skip in Sloane’s step, she headed back to the castle for lunch. She was ready to give Garreth and Leander all the details.

“Wait! Frazier!” Sweeting called after her, jogging to catch up to the girl. She beamed as she asked, “Would you like to eat lunch together?”

With a shrug, she waved for her to follow. “Garreth and Leander might join us, so be ready for them.”

A sweet giggle punctuated her next words, “I don’t mind those two. I’d rather sit with someone than no one.” 

She quickly hid her grimace at the admission, wondering how a Hufflepuff couldn’t have anyone to sit next to. Sweeting energetically spoke about her summer with her grandmother and the small farm they tended as the pair walked. 

The Great Hall was awe-inspiring as it always had been. Sloane couldn’t help looking up at the midafternoon sky glittering in the rafters and the sun shining through the stain glass at its front. Unlike dinner, many students drifted in and out after their morning classes concluded for the day, leaving plenty of room for Sweeting and Sloane to find a spot to themselves. Tables were ladened with small sandwiches and fruits. Her mouth watered as she plopped down.

“So, what’s it like being in Gryffindor?” 

Sloane blinked, watching Sweeting continue to eat her scrumptious meat pie. She tried to come up with an honest, but not too truthful answer. “Well,” she started, pausing as the other girl stared at her expectantly between bites. “It was difficult in the beginning, but otherwise it’s been pretty good. Once you get used to the two faced nature of some things.” 

Sweeting took a slow bite, but said nothing.

With a sigh, she flopped her chin into her hand. “I mean, all these girls are brave or braver than me, but all they ever want to talk about are proposals and their weddings. Wouldn’t it be the braver option to give it all up? To spend your time at Hogwarts turning yourself into someone that doesn’t need a husband?”

As she spoke, Sweeting’s eyes grew larger and larger, so Sloane got a sinking feeling that she had revealed a little too much. This was definitely a conversation that her mother wouldn’t approve of, especially when trying to make more female friends.

“I know exactly what you mean!”

Relief had her shoulders relaxing as she reached for a second helping, Sweeting’s beaming smile encouraging her to speak. “Isn’t it odd that we always talk about being more advanced than muggles, but we’re still trapped in between marriage to a wizard or being labeled a social pariah. If we’re so much better than muggles, why is spintch still an insult?”

“Or how they make it so much more difficult for witches to get into the ‘dangerous’ departments of The Ministry. We are just as capable if not more than the men in those positions.”

Before Sloane could make a joke about Leander or Garreth’s talents, another Hufflepuff walked by and sneered, “Poacher Poppy are you trying to recruit Gryffindors to help you now?”

Sweeting’s brown eyes dulled, shimmering with tears instantly, and her shoulders curled inward.

Sloane stared back at them with a cold glare. She flicked her wand with barely an audible, “ Cadess .”

The Hufflepuff had no time to recover as they stumbled and flew into the group of students, dragging two others down with them. A few other students leaned over the tables to see what the commotion was about. Sloane couldn’t help but smirk at the black death emanating from their gaze as a friend helped them up.

Snickering abound, she turned back to Sweeting with a grin. “You were saying?”

The girl’s bottom lip quivered, but she sucked in a breath. “Call me Poppy.”

“With—”

“Sloane!” Leander called from the entrance, waving enthusiastically as Garreth strolled behind him. 

She rolled her eyes at their intrusion, but shared a knowing look with Poppy as the boys took their seats. The pair had plenty to complain about from their first Charms class of the year. Even as more Hufflepuffs seemed to notice the new friends Poppy was making, they steered clear from the three boisterous Gryffindors in her company. 

Sloane had been worried about making new friends this year for no reason. Her mother seemed to be the only one affronted by her new hair color and confidence.

As the afternoon classes approached, the foursome took their leave from the Great Hall. But before Sloane could make the trek to the Transfiguration classroom, Poppy caught her robe’s sleeve. “Thanks.”

She couldn’t help a bemused smile. “I barely know you and I can tell that you’d never be associated with poachers. Wherever that rumor came from, we should feed them to Persephone.”

“Well, I mean—”

“Sloane!” Anne bounded up to the pair with a grin almost wider than her face. Ominis and her brother stood a ways off, probably on their way to their afternoon class. “Making new friends are we? Do you need tutoring as well, Sweeting?” The Gryffindor and Hufflepuff snickered once, but as confusion bloomed on Anne’s face they broke out into laughter. As it continued, the Slytherin put a hand on her hip with a grumble, “It’s not that funny.”

When Sloane looked away from Anne, feeling someone’s stare, she found Sebastian watching her with a sly smirk on his face. Her younger self would have been ecstatic for him to look at her in any way, but, now, she was bewildered. She frowned, and turned back to the other girls, “I think the only person that will be tutoring me in Beasts Class is Poppy here.”

A faint blush rose on her cheeks at the compliment, waving her hand. “I like magical creatures, so I read about them a lot.”

Neither Sloane nor Anne believed that excuse as Poppy waved again and scurried off to Herbology.

Her best friend slid her arm under hers and began to tug her in the directions of the Transfiguration courtyard. “So what was with your lateness to the Sorting Ceremony? Why did you leave so early this summer? I missed you terribly. Sebastian finally screwed his head on right and started asking about you! Oh, why did you trip that Hufflepuff?”

“I don’t think I’m going to be able to answer all your questions before we get to class,” she admonished, side-eyeing the other girl as they walked through throngs of other students. “If you want answers to all of them, we should go somewhere private.”

“Hm, well, can you answer why you were late? The boys are dying to know.”

“A dragon,” she said it dully and as matter-of-factly as she could, hoping that none of the students around would listen too closely.

“A dragon?!” she cried, turning heads of many of the students around them.

Sloane deadpanned, doing her best to play it off as some game or joke Anne might be playing on her. She whispered harshly, pulling her friend closer, “I’m not meant to speak about it. I told you a lot happened over the summer.”

Brown eyes widened as awe transformed her features. “It’s not that I didn’t believe you, but I thought that you had found a husband or a way out of finding a husband.”

“Well, it’s possibly the latter if I have anything to do with it.”

They stopped a few feet outside the Transfiguration classroom, scrunching beside one of the always-transforming bushes. Anne’s expression turned solemn as she whispered, “A lot happened while you were gone.”

Sloane searched her face for any clues, but beside watching Anne wipe a few tears from her eyes, nothing was revealed. “We can talk after class if you want? Like we planned.”

She shrugged, a bitter smile forming as she tried to pull herself back from whatever darkness she held. “Let’s.”

Professor Weasley exited the classroom to usher the stragglers into their first Transfiguration class of the year. Much of the class was spent on going over the basics of what they learned fourth year and what to expect for the coming semester. 

Sloane loved the comfortable familiarity the classroom brought her. Her first year had been tumultuous, so walking into this classroom in her second year had terrified her. Turning things into other things? How could she ever master that if she couldn’t even master her house’s tenets? 

Maybe her body had always known that she would wield Ancient Magic because she had taken to Transfiguration that year as Garreth had taken to potions in their first year. Both of them found their elements and were better for it.

The latter quarter of class was spent doing an annoying getting-to-know task mixed with some Transfiguration practice. Professor Weasley instructed, “Each of you will receive a paper flower. To get a signature from your classmate, you must introduce yourself and present your flower. Then use Muto to transform your own flower into theirs and vice versa. Once you have everyone’s signature, please bring it to me and I’ll dismiss you!”

Anne groaned next to her. “She makes Muto sound so simple.”

“Well,” Sloane leaned over to whisper with a smirk. “It’s supposed to be.”

Her friend scoffed, pushing her lightly as they stood. “You better help me or otherwise I’m never getting out of here.”

“Don’t worry. I have to talk to the professor after class anyway, so you’ll have plenty of time.”

As predicted, Anne struggled with the task, but more so than Sloane was anticipating. She wasn’t the worst at Transfiguration by any means, but something was different now. It felt as if Anne had slipped back a few years and the simple spell drained her.

The only answer she got when she asked if Anne was feeling well was a sigh and a shrug.

Some of their classmates became irritated with her, but Sloane shot them such dark glares that they kept any comments to themselves. What had happened to all the wonder and excitement in class? She remembered previous years, they would all pitch in when someone struggled.

Thankfully, they only had to spend an extra ten minutes after class. Sloane made sure to wait for them to pair up last, so if anyone had to wait, it would be them.

When they reached the professor’s desk, she gave Anne an almost pitying, but understanding look as she took her parchment. “I am glad that Sloane is here to help you in another year.”

“Me too,” she sighed, passing a grateful look to her friend.

“I wouldn’t have it any other way.” Wonderfully, that brought a bit of brightness to Anne’s face. She turned back to the professor to ask, “Um, I believe Professor Fig asked you to write me an excuse to head over to Hogsmeade on a school night. Would it be any trouble to write one for Anne as well?”

“Sebastian too!”

“Sebastian?” Sloane turned to Anne. 

Her brown eyes glittered with mischief.

Professor Weasley smiled, nodding. “Of course, I can do that. I’m assuming there were a few things you forgot to pick up before school?”

Anne shrugged nonchalantly. “I’m sure Sebastian has.”

Her dry tone elicited a snort from Sloane, and Professor Weasley shook her head at the twin’s teasing. “Well, if either of you need anything this year, you’re more than welcome to ask. Do not forget about Professor Ronen though, Anne,” she admonished before handing them three slips of parchment.

Both students nodded, and bounded out of the classroom.

“We’ll meet you by the exit to the castle! I’ll fetch Sebastian,” Anne waved excitedly as she ran off.

She left Sloane with a distinct feeling that she was up to something, but, regardless, she needed to go to Hogsmeade. Whatever prank Anne had concocted would have to be endured. It couldn’t be that bad.

Chapter Text

Sebastian

Classes had been utterly boring. Charms had dragged on and on. The review was horribly elementary. He knew that he should have tried to convince Professor Ronen to let him take a more advanced class, but he was stuck at this level for at least a semester. 

Then his afternoon class, Beasts, had been filled with the most annoying Gryffindors possible. He had hoped to see Sloane, but realized at lunch, as Anne talked about Transfiguration with her, that he wouldn’t be. 

He and Ominis were forced to listen to Prewett boast about his summer adventures between traveling and balls. Sebastian had been so distracted by Prewett’s obnoxious retellings that a puffskein had been able to lick his whole face.

Ominis had let out a dignified chuckle at his distressed noises, and teased him all the way to the Slytherin common room.

“Who would have thought the Great Sebastian Sallow would be easily defeated by a puffskein named Harold.”

“Has Prewett sounded that insufferable all this time? How were you not distracted by his ridiculous chatter?”

The blond thought for a moment as they navigated through Central Hall. The chaotic roar of after classes echoed through the high ceilings, but it felt hollower than normal. Guilt stealing any glint of nostalgia. “He’s always sounded like that. I have had to learn how to tune annoying noises out, so I’m proficient at focus,” Ominis’ voice broke through his thoughts, causing Sebastian to throw a scathing glare his way. “I just don’t understand why this year you seem to pay more attention to him.”

Yes, that was indeed a question Sebastian wanted answered as well. There wasn’t much that he knew about the boy. He was from a pureblood family that he proudly stated quite often, since he loved using it for attention. He was somehow friends with both Weasley and Sloane. He was an idiot on a broom.

None of these facts had bothered him more than last year. He ran a hand down his face as they entered the common room, banishing thoughts of the other boy until Ominis quipped, “Maybe it’s because he’s taller than you.”

“How do you know he’s taller than me?” he snapped back, but was met with a barely-there smirk. He groaned, “It’s not because of that.”

“Of course not.”

The pair settled into one of the couches in a far corner, so Ominis could idly listen to the first years still trying to catch a glimpse. He took out his Arithmancy textbook and began flipping to the pages about the intricacies of number-riddles that made up curses. It wasn’t something they would be learning about until closer to winter break, but he would start here. 

Anne entered the common room soon after he finished with the first page. She fell into the couch next to Ominis with a defeated sigh, “I don’t know what I’m going to do.”

Both boys knew that tone. Anne was baiting them.

“Oh, dear me, Anne, please tell us your woes,” Ominis crooned, barely playing into her game. 

She laid the back of her hand on her forehead and softly whined, “I was meant to go with Sloane to Hogsmeade, but I am feeling so unwell that I can’t possibly go. Sebastian, you have to go in my stead.”

Both Ominis and Anne turned to him, one with a confused furrowed brow and the other with a wink.

Worry toiled in his stomach as he wondered if Anne was truly feeling ill, but her mischief softened into a pleading look. “You were asking about her, now is your opportunity to take her as your charge. Don’t mess this up.”

Ominis’ head snapped to his twin, a short laugh escaping his lips at her tone.

“I don’t need my sister meddling in my affairs,” he grumbled, but began to pack up his things.

“Oh, I beg to differ. I am sure this year Leander Prewett will ask her to be his intended.”

The shock and disgust on his face caused his sister to cackle, leaning over to seek support in Ominis’ shoulder. His best friend’s grin helped sour his mood. 

He huffed, “I’m not going because you asked, but because you abandoned your friend to play games with me.”

Neither of them looked like they believed him, but he kept his strides even.

“Meet her by the front of the castle!” Anne sang, popping up from over the couch.

As he rolled his eyes, he gave one last wave. Nervousness began to sneak into his thoughts as he walked up the stairs and out of the common room.

What would he talk to her about?

Did he bring up the obvious like her hair? Or about the rest of her summer?

Or maybe her favorite class? But he was pretty sure that was Transfiguration with how Anne talked about her.

Would she even answer any of these questions? If he was this nervous to be alone with her, she was probably plenty nervous to be with him. Women were the fairer sex after all.

Yet, when he arrived at the front of the castle, Sloane was nowhere to be found. He sighed and stood next to the ridiculous set of armor the headmaster wanted to keep for whatever reason. Thankfully, he only had to wait a few moments before Sloane bounded down the steps, but once she saw him, her pace slowed.

“Where’s Anne?”

He waved a dismissive hand, using some of his nervous energy to feed his movements. “You are my new charge today since Anne is feeling sick.”

Sloane raised an eyebrow and scrunched her nose, but the suspicion eventually melted into a resigned huff. “Well, she said that you forgot to pick up some supplies before arriving at school.”

Sebastian swept a hand towards the door, before falling into step with her. He chewed on the inside of his cheek, the previous befuddling nervousness descending before he had time to wrangle it. “Anne was wondering about how your hair became that color.”

Sloane rolled her eyes. “So does everyone else. I haven’t gotten this much attention at Hogwarts before now. It’s as if witches don’t normally change their hair. Especially since this color isn’t that impressive.” 

He was sure that her hair wasn’t the only thing the male population of Hogwarts was noticing. Her older clothing was much tighter than normally appropriate. He’d never admit that he’s taken full advantage, well, out loud. He shrugged, finding a casual tone he could fake until the last of his trepidation dissipated. “There are plenty of other things that have changed about you over the summer.”

“Is that so? You noticed my scar too? My mother will be disturbed.”

“I meant your confidence. I don’t think I’ve ever seen someone so proudly stride after interrupting a Sorting Ceremony.”

Her laugh was akin to a bark, shaking her head. “I suppose that has changed as well. After the summer I had, I suppose it’s a rather beneficial byproduct. But to answer your original question, my hair wasn’t of my own volition, so I have no idea what Anne would need to do to get this color.”

Regardless of the harshness to her laughter, he found himself watching how it lit her face ever so slightly. He barely registered her words, but thankfully a pair of hippogriffs flew from the Forbidden Forest, so he didn’t have to carry on the conversation. 

Yet, a few paces in front of them, he heard Prewett’s bored drawl and his cohorts laughter. Bright red splotches appeared on Sloane’s face, and she took off stomping towards him. He hadn’t heard what the other boy had said, but he knew that he didn’t want this Gryffindor coming after him with that much fury in her eyes.

“Leander!” she snapped, causing him to jump and spin around. At first he grinned, excited to see her, but it dissolved into fear as she put a hand on her hip. “How are you still so juvenile to use a ridiculous nickname as ‘Peculiar Poppy’ to make others laugh? Are you so inept at humor that you have to resort to bullying? I thought higher of you.”

The group around Prewett, covered their mouths to keep snickers to themselves, but Sebastian had no shame in his chuckle. It earned him a rather sinister glower from the red head, but his expression flickered to moderate guilt as he looked at his friend. “Are you going somewhere with him, alone? Are you sure?”

He was surprised that her face could get any redder or her eyes blaze brighter. “I would much rather be surrounded by Slytherins and all their ilk, compared to a bully. Straighten up, Leander. You’ve only disappointed me since I’ve returned.” She didn’t give him time to pick his jaw up off the ground as she marched towards Hogsmeade.

He jogged to catch up to her, only slowing slightly to keep up with her blistering pace. His own confidence was swelling. He had thought that she was much closer to Prewett than ‘disappointed’. 

“Trouble in Gryffindor?” he asked, raising a curious eyebrow.

Her eyes snapped to his, holding onto the previous fury, but she didn’t hold his gaze for long. She deflated with a sigh, “I think all the attention he got during the season went to his head. He might not be first born and inheritor of the Prewett estates and title, but he’s from a pureblood family as old as time or some such.” Her hands fluttered around, punctuating her sentences and distaste. “Garreth and I knew that he liked attention, but this is a whole other matter.”

“Not smitten by name and blood status like the rest of the young ladies?”

“I leave that to my mother,” she practically growled. He snorted at the venom in the short sentence, causing her to eye him suspiciously. “Why do you care about any of this? We’ve hardly talked before outside of farming instructions.”

“Would you believe me if I said that it was to rub all this in Prewett’s face later?”

“No,” she laughed. “You like bragging more about your talents than gossip.”

“Oh? Should I be asking why you know so much about me?”

“Your sister,” she stated, leaving no room for argument. “Though, I would rather not hear Leander moan about this trip anymore than I’m going to, so if you could keep your ‘bragging’ to yourself, that would be astounding.”

Hogsmeade came into view as he pondered his next words. Enchanted music filtered through the trees. Plucking jovial tunes from unseen instruments. Older witches and wizards disappearing into the air on their brooms. Cracking of others apparating to the outskirts. Purely magical.

They stopped before the bridge into town, and he conjured his most charming smirk as he leaned over to mutter, “Anything for my new charge.”

She scoffed. “Admirable. How many others are your ‘charge’?”

“I’m offended. My dear twin asked me to take care of you in her stead. I would never take on more than one charge.”

Sloane pursed her lips, grumbling back, “I’ve been warned about sweet words from boys. I would rather focus on the supplies I need to replace.”

He didn’t deflate. There was a touch of pink on her cheeks that he would never forget. With a casual shrug, he said, “Very well. I’ll meet you in the town square after you’ve finished your shopping.”

She cast a wary, and a bit confused, frown his way before striding away. He took a moment to watch her leave, before he shook himself and got to his own shopping. 

If Sloane asked, he would tell her he was buying some sort of prank because Anne had abandoned them. In actuality, he was currently spending quite a bit of galleons on sweets at Honeydukes for this alone time with her best friend. Though, a small prickling of inadequacy crawled up his spine the longer he thought about the different summer Sloane had.

She must have spent it similarly to Prewett in London. Once the Muggles vacated most of the city, witches and wizards moved in. The heat didn’t chase them away since they could easily charm venues to cooler temperatures. It was a perfect way to spend your summer away from Hogwarts, some of the older Slytherin girls would wax on and on about. Learn about magic most of the year and spend the rest, looking for a husband to have a pureblood family.

Ominis always complained that he had to attend his family’s grand ball every year to keep up appearances that they were a ‘happy’ and ‘cohesive’ family. The threat of not being able to return to Hogwarts was good enough for him to at least make a short appearance.

Maybe Sloane was upset at Prewett because she had to deal with similar ilk all summer? 

He rubbed his jaw as he stored his sister’s candy in a charmed pocket of his school robes. He didn’t particularly like thinking about the Gryffindor witch talking to a bunch of pureblood aristocratic wizards, but as he tried to shake the images from his head, his eyes caught on something silver.

Crouched near a dilapidated house almost on the outskirts of town, and definitely not near the square, was Sloane. Behind her were what he assumed were her purchases, but all of her attention was on a few figures down the alleyway. 

For a moment, he was brought back to the moment Anne had spotted the goblins. It was dark. They couldn’t use Lumos without being found out, so they fumbled as quietly as possible, but it wasn’t good enough. His twin got cursed no matter how careful they had been before.

His feet moved before he realized where he was walking. He slid down next to Sloane, giving her an incredulous look as he gestured down the alleyway. She brought a finger to her lips, turning back to the figures, but her shoulders tensed. Slowly pulling back on her heels, her skin had lost all of its color.

Before he could ask her what was wrong, a wizard with a top hat strolled from the alleyway with a scowl darker than a moonless night. “What do we have here?” 

He shoved Sloane behind him, still crouching, and scowled right back at the infamous Victor Rookwood. He wouldn’t be intimidated. He wouldn’t fail at protecting someone a second time.

The Gryffindor behind him didn’t hesitate with a quick shout, “ Petrificus Totalus! ”

The gangster stiffened, eyes moving wildly. 

She dragged Sebastian to the center square. She was muttering under her breath, but too quickly for him to make out.

Witches and wizards looked at them with concern due to their pallor and twitchiness, but Sloane paid no attention. Her expression was calculating, hardened even, and Sebastian couldn’t reconcile this with what he knew about her.

“What are you doing?! We shouldn’t stop until we—” he was cut off by a roar and a crash. 

An armored troll galloped down the main bridge into town, eliciting screams from the townsfolk.

Sloane instantly brandished her wand, her eyes darting around the square and taking a step in front of him! Shock shook him, his attention catching on the different wood and design. He remembered that he and Sloane had vastly different wands before, but now they were about the same color. Had something happened to her other one during the summer? Had she been using a spare? What was she doing protecting him now?

Officer Singer shouted orders, drawing the troll away from. Even with the immediate threat taken care of, dread sunk in his stomach. He drew his own wand. 

“You think a pathetic curse like that would stop me?” Rookwood taunted from behind them.

She had the audacity to snort as she turned. “You’re the one caught off guard by a student.”

“You’re coming with me.” A muscle in his jaw twitched as he stalked towards them.

Before Sebastian could hurl a spell, she flicked her wand without a word. He probably wouldn’t have noticed her changing one of the bricks in Rookwood’s path if he hadn’t stumbled. Rage contoured his face as he shot dark magic towards Sloane, but she was able to cast Protego before it hit her. “A woman should know her place!” he muttered.

The smirk Sloane gave him only fueled the dangerous fury in his movements.

As the gangster raised his wand, Sebastian’s heart stuttered, but before he could dash in front of this idiot Gryffindor another bellow echoed off the buildings. Another troll burst through a nearby storefront and ran towards them!

“You bloody idiot!” The older wizard cried, shooting off several bouts of magic. “Go the other way!”

As he dodged the rampaging troll, he apparated away.

Instead of doing the same, Sloane seemed to relax at his disappearance in the face of a troll.

“Move!” he cried, pushing her out of the way as the troll swung its massive club. A sickening crack echoed from his arm and reverberated through the rest of his body. He groaned, “What are you doing? Pay attention, Frazier!”

Sloane stared up at him, surprise clouding her eyes, before she blinked it away and cried, “ Protego! ” And the club bounced off her shield. “Go get Officer Singer!”

“I’m not leaving you alone!”

Another smash against the shield.

She growled, but had the strength to push him off of her, causing him to yelp when he landed on his broken arm. Pain ricocheted from his arm to his vision and back again. The next blow grazed off her shield as it shattered, a barrel next to them exploding as the club crushed it.

He could make out her wince and something sticking out of her arm, but lightning sparked in her hair as it floated from her head. The tip of her wand gathered some sort of liquid metal. He blinked several times, wondering if he was dreaming. One blink, the troll was there, but in the next fluttering ashes replaced it.

A spell hadn’t been uttered. 

What had Sloane done?

Chapter Text

Sloane

Officer Singer apparated them to the gates of the castle, where Professor Weasley and Ronen were waiting for them. Both heads of houses praised and chastised them in equal measure as they helped them to the Hospital Wing. Neither of them said anything, only nodding to acknowledge the words.

Nurse Bailey was in an uproar when she laid eyes on them. While she healed them she scolded them for going after a troll, let alone an armored one, by themselves. No hint of admiration from the madam.

Sloane had barely heard the words. What else was she meant to do when a dark wizard was trying to kidnap her in broad daylight, then a troll was running at her and Sebastian? She couldn’t believe that she lost focus as soon as Rookwood had disappeared. Now, her best friend’s twin had a shattered arm and saw her use Ancient Magic. There had to be a connection with him and Ranrok if he was selling odd potions to goblins. Especially one’s wearing similar armor to the dragon that attacked her and Professor Fig’s carriage.

This was not how the day was meant to go. She groaned to herself.

Before she could wallow anymore in her deficiencies, Anne and Ominis burst through the door. Sebastian was behind another curtain, so he didn’t see them let go of each other’s hands. She slung an arm over her face in preparation for the onslaught of questions and to ignore the obvious closeness of the pair of Slytherins.

“What happened?! Professor Ronen said—” Anne rushed to Sebastian's side, throwing the privacy curtain open and ignoring propriety. The rest of her words were stuck in between a sob and a gasp when she saw his arm in a sling.

“I’m much better now. Nurse Bailey knows what she’s doing,” he quipped, a charming smirk in place to push his sister’s worries away.

Sloane eyed Ominis. His shoulders slumped in relief as Anne went about checking her twin for any other injuries. He didn’t turn to her, so she relaxed into the bed. He must not have noticed that she saw their hands.

Yet, she would not be exempt from Anne’s worry. “I leave the two of you alone, and trolls attack! What were you thinking?” Her friend flopped on her bed next as Ominis sat down on Sebastian’s.

“I thought you were used to my Gryffindor tendencies by now,” she grumbled, half joking.

Anne scoffed, “Usually you leave the bravery to Weasley and Prewett! Since when, oh, Sloane, I don’t mean it in a bad way, but you have other qualities that you should focus on.” Before she could continue, her face scrunched and she reached for her side.

Sebastian shot up, but Ominis had to take hold of his arm to keep him steady. “Too much excitement?” the blond whispered to Anne.

She nodded, smiling softly at her ‘friend’. She sighed and turned to her twin, “Nurse Bailey said that you can rest in the common room. No Quidditch practice until the day after tomorrow and no roughhousing!”

Sloane watched the trio, wondering what they knew that she didn’t. She was regretting not pushing more for Anne to come with her to Hogsmeade instead of her brother. Something had happened to both of the girls over the summer. It seemed only one of them benefited from it.

Anne and Ominis were the first to turn to leave, Anne sliding an arm around Ominis’s. 

Sebastian was staring down at her. She kept her gaze even, wondering if he was going to ask whatever question was on his mind. He frowned, but pointed at her before he turned to follow his housemates.

She felt that meant those questions would wait until later. She was going to have to lie to him. There was no way that Sebastian Sallow would be able to keep this secret. Especially with his odd change in attitude towards her.

After her hour was up, she waved to Nurse Bailey with the promise—well, lie—that she wouldn’t go looking for trouble any time soon. 

Thankfully, most students were in the Great Hall for dinner. She had some food in the Hospital Wing, so she was happy to skip all the attention she would get while eating. Even the common room was deathly quiet.

She had told Officier Singer that she had left some of her purchases behind and the Auror had promised she would look for them. She, honestly, hoped the officer didn’t find them. It had been all the clothes her mother wanted her to wear during club events or balls or whatever other social events she assumed Sloane was attending.

She had kept anything she deemed important in her robes. She was glad she spent the extra knut on more pockets. Most of all, she was glad to have a new wand. It looked nothing like her previous one, but it felt just as right in her hands. Maybe even better.

“Ah, the troll slayer,” Garreth called from the upper balcony. 

When she looked up, she noticed some steam rising from an unseen cauldron. “Word travels fast,” she mumbled.

He motioned to the empty couch behind him, encouraging her to speak to him. She gave him a brief nod and headed up the stairs towards the alcove. The weight of her summer and the past few hours weighing her feet, making each step excruciating. 

She slumped into the plush couch, glaring at the cauldron tucked in the corner. “I’m surprised no one has reported you to Sharp yet.”

“I have a way of convincing others that none of my potions are that dangerous.” He wriggled his eyebrows, slowly stirring the contents. They lapsed into a short silence before he sighed, “Is it later yet?”

Sloane pursed her lips, staring down at her hands. “I don’t know if you’ll believe me.”

“I can’t try if you don’t start.”

She could feel his green eyes boring into her the longer she stayed silent. Eventually, it all came out in a whoosh, “I can see Ancient Magic. It was midnight on my birthday when it all happened. I was staying with Anne at the time. I woke up from a nightmare or dream, I don’t remember, but I was burning up. I went outside to the well because it made sense at the time. At first I thought I was still dreaming when I stepped out of their house. Swirling mercury or some other metal kept swimming in my vision. I swatted at it, but it wouldn’t leave.

“I had to cool off though. I felt like I would be engulfed in flames, so regardless of what I was seeing I kept. I’ve never pulled a bucket of water up so swiftly. I kept splashing my face with water, but... As my madness built, I dropped the whole bucket on me. I didn’t care who saw me. Yet, oh, Garreth, it was terrifying. There were silver flames all around me, crackling like lightning, but also like water? I don’t know how I didn’t scream.” She covered her face. “I knew I wasn’t supposed to use magic outside of school, but I couldn’t cause the town to burn down!” she whimpered as tears sprung in her eyes. “But when I reached for my wand, the flames had already turned it to ash. It crumbled in my hand. All I could think about was how I destroyed a whole town. It was all my fault. I wanted to stop it, but now I had no way to do that.

“But,” she took a chance to gauge Garreth’s reaction. His gaze was focused on his potion, but he looked as relaxed as he normally did. So, she continued, “As soon as I begged it to stop, it all disappeared. As if nothing had happened at all! I’ve never had my magic become so chaotic before, so I rushed home by floo. My mother screamed when she saw me, thinking I was some sort of thief because my hair was this.” She tugged on a strand with a hint of disdain. “My father recognized me first, and got my mother to stop her hysterics. The next week, I spent secluded in my room as my mother tried to figure out how to fix my hair and get out what had happened in Feldcroft. She was unsuccessful as you can tell.

“That’s around the time, Professor Fig replied to my letter and convinced my parents to let me study with him for the rest of the summer. I have no idea what he said to them because I was banished from the room, but I’m sure he promised my mother we would figure out a way to fix my hair. As if that was the biggest problem.”

“How did Professor Fig help?” He kept his voice low, but curiosity was evident in his voice.

“Well, I knew what I had awoken wasn’t normal. I started seeing the liquid metal and crackling all over my house. I knew it was an old building because it had been in my mother’s family for generations. It survived countless fires! When I mentioned it to my father, he only looked at me with concern. I figured the Professor of Magical Theory might know what happened to me. I was correct.” A weak smile played across her features, before she sighed again. “His wife died researching Ancient Magic.”

“Ancient Magic?” he couldn’t help a short, slightly disbelieving chuckle. “That just sounds…” 

“Insane? Ridiculous? I know.” She finished for him. “Now, Professor Fig is researching some older books he has in his collection, but he hasn’t found anything concrete yet.”

He paused his stirring, sitting back on his heels as gears turned in his head. “Well, it seems like your summer was much more exciting than mine ever could be.”

Sloane barked out a laugh, or maybe she was trying to keep a sob in, she couldn’t tell. “How can you joke like this?”

Garreth merely shrugged, saying, “It doesn’t change anything about us, does it?”

“No!” she blurted, mortified. “Why would you think that?”

He raised an eyebrow.

Her gaze flickered to her feet. She sighed, “I see. I’ve just been volleying between feeling so much better about myself with this new magic to feeling like a freak. And something has happened to Anne, but no one has talked about it. I wanted to tell her about me, but you’re the only one that’s spared the time.”

“Well, it just means that I am your greatest friend. Now, try this.” He held out a goblet. This time the liquid was a shimmering pale green without steam, regardless how the cauldron looked. When she merely eyed it with disdain, he pushed it closer to her. “Payment for listening and not even interrupting about how many excellent potion ingredients I found in India.”

Slowly, a warmth started at the top of her head and sunk down her spine. A realization. What she had been craving since she had arrived back at Hogwarts was normalcy. Everyone around her had been acting oddly; Leander with staring, Anne with her pushing Sloane towards her twin, and Sebastian with his smirks and attention.

Garreth handing her an unknown potion was the most everyday thing she had the past few days. With a grin, she grabbed the goblet and drank the contents. Instantly, a burning and itchy feeling bloomed on the top of her head. Only moments later, Garreth’s eyes widened and he began to roar with laughter.

“What did you do?!”

“Well, it was a modified Hair Raising Brew, but it seems to have just turned your hair green.”

“Garreth!” With a flick of her wand she transfigured one of the posters into a mirror. A bright, shimmering glow emanated from each strand of her hair. She covered her mouth to stifle her own laughter, but as her hair slowly started to stand on end, there was no holding back. “My mother will be so disappointed!”

“I suppose replacing the Ginny Root with this green tuber I found was not the best choice.” He popped in next to her in the mirror, his smile softening. “I might not be a Hufflepuff, but I’ll always be here for you, Sloane.”

“Thanks, Garreth.”

“Though, we definitely shouldn’t tell Leander. He’d probably think you’re some sort of chosen one and brag about it.”

She sighed, running her fingers through her hair to calm it down. “You’re right. What happened to him over the summer?”

“More attention than he’s ever gotten, I’m sure. From the letters he sent me, he was rather popular at the dances he was invited to. Some mothers are already planning weddings it seems.”

Her shoulders slumped, flicking her wand again to turn the mirror back. She didn’t want to look at herself anymore. “I know that feeling. I’m supposed to make my debut this upcoming July, but I don’t want to think about it. Tell me about India.”

He nodded, cleaning up his cauldron as he began. “Well, my cousin Will was the one to suggest it. ‘He needs to see more than just Scotland, Aunt Myrtle!’ Apparently, that was enough to convince my mother, but I think it had more to do with how I had blown up the shed a few days before.”

She snorted at his smirk, waving her hand for him to continue.

“If you think summer in London was hot, then you need to reevaluate. Thankfully, Will knew a cooling charm, but being unable to use magic myself was rather annoying. Regardless, he took me all over the country to meet other wizards. Well, potioneers. Sharp knows what he’s talking about, of course, but the variety of potions was astounding. They took me into the jungle and taught me how to survive out there! They said any good potion master would know how to traverse any terrain to get ingredients. We even saw a tiger once.”

“So while I was flying around Scotland with Professor Fig, you were in India digging around in the dirt for potion ingredients.”

“Exactly!” he chimed, his delight at the prospect apparent as he swayed in his cleaning. 

Garreth had plenty of stories of magical creatures they encountered, but as he got into a story about a creature with the torso of a man, but his legs replaced by a snake’s body, students began to return from dinner.  

Instead of facing either the teasing, for her hair, or adoration, for the troll, Sloane scurried to her dorm. She closed her curtains, pretending to have taken an early night like she should have. 

As she laid behind the familiar red curtains, her mind drifted to Sebastian. Again, unfortunately. She couldn’t remember how Anne had found out about her crush on him, whether Sloane had spilled it because of girl talk or she had been so obvious about it at twelve that Anne figured it out. Yet, as Sebastian ignored, or rather, didn’t know she existed, the feelings began to fade. They slipped away as she focused on school, the passing fancy becoming just that.

This year many other boys have noticed her for the first time as something other than the Cowardly Griffon, so he does as well? Her younger self would be ecstatic for the attention, but there were so many other things she needed to worry about.

Rookwood. Goblins. Ancient Magic.

She wished Sebastian’s smirk was less distracting. With a groan, she turned over in bed and pushed all thoughts of any attention away. Tomorrow was another day full of classes, clubs, and dealing with rumors. 

Sloane needed sleep more than contemplating which smirk was the most handsome on the Slytherin’s face.

Chapter Text

Sebastian

Something swatted Sebastian’s forehead, startling him awake. He looked around his bed, slowly remembering he had charmed his wand to wake him up before morning alarms. He didn’t expect the thing to whack his forehead. He sighed, swinging his legs out of bed. He couldn’t spend too much time grumbling about his wand or the earliness. It was wasted energy.

He gathered his Arithmancy supplies and a fresh roll of parchment. Sadly, there wasn’t much more that he could glean from this textbook. He was planning on taking a trip to the library in the coming weekend.

Sebastian couldn’t believe how simplistic the basics of curse breaking could be. Yes, a foundation in these formulas was sure to help him, but he had expected there to be more. He assumed that there was more aptitude or natural talent involved. These textbooks made it sound like anyone could study hard enough to become a Cursebreaker. 

He wouldn’t take any chances. He wrote pages and pages of notes on each of the formulas. Which variety of curse it could be used on, the level of skill it took, and the time between attempts. Hopefully, the more advanced books would build on this.

As other Slytherins started filtering into the common room, he lost focus. Ominis gave him a curious eyebrow when opening the door to find him waiting outside their dorm room. They walked in silence, hoping that Anne would join them in a little while. She had started taking longer to get out of bed in the mornings, and hated making them wait.

The pair ate silently, not having the energy to hold a conversation. It unfortunately gave Sebastian ample attention to notice Sloane stride into The Great Hall. She was swarmed by other Gryffindors, laughing and throwing her head back. A muscle in his jaw tightened as he remembered what she had done to the troll.

One moment he was clenching his arm, spiraling into a guilty pit because he—once again—couldn’t save someone, and the next, the troll had disappeared. She had been bloodied, panting with such a fierce determination. A new glow about her that had his breath leaving him. A witch of House Gryffindor. 

As they sat in the hospital wing, he wondered why he had never seen these things in her before. Where had his mind been? If this was what was underneath shy glances and giggling with his sister, he had so many summers of her all to himself. 

Wasted.

“Morning!” Anne flopped down between the two boys, reaching for a piece of toast and some bacon. 

“How are you this morning?” Ominis asked softly as he shifted to give her barely any room.

“I think that today will be a good day. Sebastian,” she chirped and turned. “How is your arm?”

He tore his gaze away from the spot Sloane had chosen between Prewett and Weasley. Anne seemed to notice with a sly grin playing across her features. He shrugged, playing it off. “It feels better. I took the sling off last night.”

“You are supposed to wear it until this afternoon.”

He reached out with his previously injured arm to grab a few more morsels from the table, a smirk lacing his lips. “I think I’m just fine.”

Both Anne and Ominis gave him a disbelieving glare, practically matching.

Rolling his eyes, he said, “I have Defense Against the Dark Arts today. I can’t have my arm in a sling for that. I want to start the year off right.”

The rest of breakfast was spent admonishing him about taking care of himself, but he brushed each of their worries off. Nurse Bailey knew what she was doing and the sling had only been a precaution. He knew his body and it was ready to take on the world again. 

He also wouldn’t miss Quidditch tryouts tonight because of a silly broken arm.

As Arithmancy dragged on, he had to keep his heavy eyes open. Maybe he had woken up a little too early after the troll attack. His only saving grace was that he had quite a few Ravenclaws in class, including Amit Thakker, hungry for house points. They answered almost all of the questions given.

When he walked into the Great Hall for lunch, Ominis and Anne had already arrived, and were chatting together. They sat separated from the rest of the Slytherins at their table. He pursed his lips, feeling awkward about interrupting them. They had been a trio since the middle of their first year when the twins realized that Ominis was shyer than the rest of their house regardless of his last name. They scooped him up as a friend before anyone else could break his shell. 

Now, he felt himself drifting away. He didn’t know if it was because of the curse or something else, but his stomach rumbled, so he pushed feelings of awkwardness away. He strode to the opposite side of the table, and was met with two happy faces. Maybe he was overthinking their relationship. They had all been stressed this summer because of, well, the obvious, so he smiled back and listened to Anne’s story of Beasts class.

After their refreshing lunch, the trio split up. Ominis and Sebastian headed towards the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom, and Anne to Herbology. His best friend seemed to notice the spring in his step as they walked, but made no comment on Sebastian’s apparent excitement. 

With how dull the morning had been, he completely forgot that Sloane and Ominis would be in his afternoon class. He would have a chance to talk to the Gryffindor about their interaction with the troll, and show off some of his dueling skills he was unable to in the surprise attack.

“Officer Singer said that she took down an armored troll all by herself! I knew from the beginning that she was a true Gryffindor. Why did you think I became friends with her?” Prewett practically roared for the whole hallway to hear.

Sebastian glowered.

“She told me that it wasn’t a big deal! Who knew that she had been practicing in secret this whole time? I bet she can give anyone a run for their money now. I might ask her for some dueling tips!”

He rolled his eyes as he entered the classroom, muttering, “As if tips would help.”

Sadly, due to either his definitely-not-jealousy or Prewett being right next to the door, the boy had heard. His expression turned steely. “What was that, Sallow?”

“Oh, you heard me,” he scoffed as he crossed his arms over his chest. “Are you even sure that she spoke to you? She seemed pretty upset after she caught you mocking Sweeting.”

An angry blush sprung onto Prewett’s cheeks as the girls he had been talking to pursed their lips. “What kind of trickery did you employ to have Sloane agree to go to Hogsmeade with the likes of you?”

The Slytherin blinked as the crowd around them thickened with anticipation of the impending row between the two. “At least I don’t use other’s accomplishments to garner attention,” he countered. 

There were some snickers throughout the group as Prewett’s face grew redder. His hand twitched towards his wand. “I think you’re all talk, Sallow. I heard that Sloane had to protect you from the troll, so how are you the best duelist in our year?”

He clenched his jaw at the taunt, knowing that he should be the bigger person and let it go, but his hand was already reaching for his own wand. “Let me show you how incorrect that assumption is.”

Ominis let out a long and annoyed exhale as the group parted to let the two boys have the center aisle. Sebastian didn’t spare a look at whatever disapproving expression spread across his best friend’s face.

Prewett took a rather loose dueling stance at the front of the classroom while Sebastian twirled his wand between his fingers. The nonchalant stance didn’t sit well with the other boy. He barely bowed before shooting off, “Colloshoo! ”

He rolled his eyes. What did Prewett think sticking my shoes to the floor would stop me from doing? With barely a flick of his wand, he muttered, “Anteoculatia. ”

The students around them gasped as antlers started forming in Prewett’s hair. He reached up to touch them, clearly distracted easily from the duel.

“Expelliarmus! ”

But Prewett was more ready than he assumed, on reflex casting, “Protego! ”

The spell pinged off his strong shield, and launched into the dragon skeleton above them. Exclaims filled the room as the skull shook and came loose. Thankfully, Professor Hecate strolled out of her office, easily casting a wordless Levioso . She looked unimpressed by their antics, but didn’t take points from either house. She began their lesson as if they hadn’t been dueling.

As many of his other classes, she began going over the spells they would be learning and dark creatures they would be studying. 

“Since all of you are chomping at the bit for dueling practice, why don’t we take the latter half of class to pair up and knock off some of the summer rust?” Hecate looked at Prewett and himself with a cool, but slightly amused expression. 

Sebastian smirked, hoping Prewett would look back at him from his seat next to Sloane. But it was no such luck. The red head whispered something into her ear with his hand on her shoulder. Rage roared to life once again, wiping his smirk away, and that’s when Prewett decided to turn around. He clenched his fists under the table at the haughtiness wrapped up in that idiot’s expression. 

Ominis huffed beside him, “If you keep glaring at him, you won’t get anywhere. Let’s pair up.”

“Fine.”

He appreciated that Ominis didn’t hold back. It helped distract him from the pathetic pairing of Prewett and Sloane. The few times he glanced in their direction, she looked utterly bored. Each slip of focus Ominis made him pay for it with a stinging hex. Eventually, they fell into a rhythm and the room fell away. He remembered this feeling. A duel he knew he didn’t have to worry about losing. An easy dance of defensive and offensive spells. He loved the art of spells falling from his lips and the movement of his wand, mindless. 

Hecate tapped her wand against a podium, bringing the room to silence. She wore a frown as she looked out to her students. “I understand that you are not going about your summers defending yourself, but it seems many of you have let your skills fall to the wayside. Frazier, Sallow, are you willing to demonstrate for us since you valiantly fought a troll only yesterday?”

Joy swelled in Sebastian’s chest. Perfect! He thought. This was a wonderful excuse to get her to talk to me after class. If I don’t put too much effort in this, she would no doubt demand a second duel. I could say that I didn’t want to embarrass her in front of all her adoring fans or some such. Or that I would much rather her alone to duel? Maybe I could get her to blush with that.

“Let me give you a real Hogwarts welcome,” he taunted as she walked past him. She stared at him flatly, completely unbothered. Her coolness stayed as the platform lifted. Her stance was a bit restless compared to his nonchalant. Her eyes narrowed at the smirk he flashed her.

After their Professor called to begin, he cast a few basic casts to start off easy, but Sloane took on a different air. Something buzzed behind her viridian eyes. Her shoulders squared. She pointed her wand to the platform, barely whispering, “ Glacius. ”

He raised an eyebrow, his smirk widening on his face at her obvious miss, but before he knew it he was drawn over the ice with a wretch of her wand. His eyes widened as he wobbled and stumbled to get his footing back, but in his distraction she was already preparing her next spell.

“Depulso! ”

Thankfully, adrenaline let him barely dodge her cast, but he ended up staggering near the side of the platform. 

Her head tilted as a grimace formed. 

Is my distractedness that obvious to her? Did everyone notice how enamored I was by her stare? I only planned to go easy on her! Not be crushed.

“ Cadess ,” she muttered with an air of hostility. 

His balance completely toppled and he landed face first on the wooden floor before him. His robes covered his face, so the rest of the class couldn’t see the burn of his cheeks as they giggled and chuckled. Ominis was the first to make it to him as Hecate droned on about Sloane’s technique and inventiveness with her spell casting. That they should always use whatever in their arsenal, regardless if they’re a Charms master or not.

“Sebastian, what was that?” his best friend murmured with such an amused tone that he was surprised the blond wasn’t still laughing.

He grumbled a few unintelligent curses as his bruised pride stung, but hopefully his plan worked. He dusted off his robes and looked up at the champion, still raised above the class. The fury in her eyes reminded him of a dragon, and he gulped. Maybe… Maybe, this was a terrible idea.

Hecate dismissed class soon after, giving Sebastian an amused eye roll before she disappeared into her office. With another gulp, he caught Sloane stomping over to him. He forced a half confident smile to his lips, praying that it would be disarming enough that some of her anger would ebb away. 

“I am not a delicate flower!” she snarled as Prewett snickered from the doorway. She shot daggers at him, and he scurried away down the hallway to wait for her somewhere else. “You’re a competent duelist. That was pathetic.”

“I was disarmed by your charm.” He shrugged.

Ominis let out an undignified snort next to him.

Sloane’s face screwed up in distaste. She chewed on her lips, pursed them, then growled, “Take me seriously next time, you bloody fool.” Before he could ask her when the next time would be, Garreth popped his head in. She stormed over to him as he watched the pair of Slytherins with a bemused grin. He must be happy they’re getting her ire today.

Ominis and Sebastian were left in the classroom alone, only hearing Sloane’s complaints as she raged to her Gryffindor friends. When Omins started chuckling and holding his stomach, he covered his face with his hands.

“Would you like to go to the Undercroft to dust off some summer rust?” 

“Quiet, Gaunt.”

By the time they made it to the clock, many students had dispersed to their afternoon clubs, and much of the building was empty. Sebastian stormed in, firing off a few Confringos as Ominis took to snickering. 

“Why was she that upset? Aren’t girls used to men going easy on them?”

“This is your sister’s best friend we’re talking about, correct? Would Anne take it well if you went easy on her?”

“Sloane isn’t Anne!”

“Yes, I know that. It seems like you’re finally noticing that,” Ominis muttered as he slumped into a chair that he had transfigured from a crate. “She fought a troll trying to protect you, then you didn't take her seriously in a duel. How daft are you?”

“I just wanted to talk to her after class about the troll!”

“Then have a normal duel with her and ask to walk with her to dinner or her clubroom!”

Sebastian blinked, slowly lowering his wand as he glanced over to Ominis. 

The blond had his arms crossed with a disappointed frown marring his face. 

He opened his mouth with an 'extremely clever' rebuttal, but it died on his tongue. He groaned, looking up at the stone ceiling. “It shouldn’t be this hard to talk to a girl.”

“Yes, it’s rather horrifying to watch your struggle so much when I have no trouble talking to Anne or Miss Frazier.”

He scoffed, “Of course, you have no trouble. You’re a dignified Gaunt.”

“No, I have better manners and a head on my shoulders regardless of surname.”

At Ominis’ smirk, a self-deprecating one grew on his lips. “You wound me. I think I do rather well, otherwise.”

“Yes, it seems that Miss Frazier is very much your weakness. Anne is quite happy about it.”

Sebastian sighed, shoulders slumping as he thought of his twin. “At least something I’ve done lately has brought her some happiness.”

“Spending some time together instead of researching will do that too.”

“I promise to find some time soon, but I want to find a cure as soon as possible. Mungos be damned. I know there’s a way to break this curse. I can feel it.”

Ominis let out a long sigh, but didn’t admonish him or refute his claim. Instead, he said, “We should probably get some dinner in your before Quidditch tryouts. Imelda will expect no mistakes from you.”

With a snort, he nodded. “It’s as if she hasn’t already won a Quidditch Cup.”

“Yes, yes, but it’s different when you’re captain,” Ominis’ voice lilted as he mimicked Imelda’s accent and cadence. 

Both boys chuckled as they left the Undercroft, bruised pride and sorrow forgotten for the moment.

Chapter Text

Sloane

The steaming Gryffindor took a few deep breaths before she entered Professor Fig’s office. She couldn’t yell at a professor because of her irritation at Sebastian. She didn’t have too much time between class and Quidditch tryouts, so hopefully whatever her mentor wanted to talk about was quick.

Sadly, after his return from the Ministry, he didn't have much time for research. Headmaster Black seemed to interrupt him every time he was able to hit the books or collect some morsel of information. Even with interruptions, he was able to find a map that had traces of Ancient Magic. 

Sloane was able to make out that the traces were circling the Restricted Section of the library. Both of them sighed. Professor Fig admitted that he wouldn’t be able to write her a note to get in without Librarian Scribner growing suspicious. Not only was Sloane only a fifth year, but none of her classes currently warranted a trip to the Restricted Section. 

He would work on figuring out a way in while he traveled once again. It saddened her to see him go, having grown rather fond of Professor Fig over the summer. She hadn’t been interested in much magic because her mother only seemed to use it on her appearance or to gather gossip, so why would she ever want any of those spells?

Her mentor was able to explain the origins and evolutions of spells. Too many to count, but he never tired of her questions as they traveled from one ancient ruin to the next. It brought her a new confidence in her spell casting, regardless of the magic only she could see. She felt more like a Gryffindor than she had ever before.

As she left his office, she saw a few Slytherins mulling around between clubrooms. Her mind went straight back to Sebastian’s distracted gaze. Maybe awe was there too, but it fanned the embers of her rage again.

Natsai Onai was studying at her desk when Sloane flew into their dorm room. She threw open her closet, grumbling as she rummaged through to find her trousers and a blouse she didn’t mind getting dirty.

“Rough class?”

“No, boys.”

“Ah, I understand, well, good luck with tryouts tonight.”

Sloane paused her scrambling to look over at her roommate. Natty had a soft smile and kind eyes that soothed the bristling pride twisting in her chest. She took a deep breath, and said, “Thank you. I appreciate the support.”

“Let me know if you need help with those boys, too. I can use wandless magic,” she quipped, and turned back to her homework.

It elicited a snort from the silver-haired girl, but warmed and smoothed some of her frayed edges. She needed to focus on her tryouts. Keep Sebastian’s idiotic choices out of her head. 

By the time she made her way down, Leander was already waiting for her. Garreth was encouraging him, animatedly. He even clapped him on the shoulder as he stared at Sloane coming down the stairs. “Ready to go?” she grinned, joining her two friends.

“Yes! Of course.” The taller of the two blurted, face flushing as she bounced in place. “Let’s get on the team together!”

Garreth gave her a pitying look. Unfortunately, Leander tried every year to get on the team and for the past three, he hadn’t made it. Sloane didn’t think she would do much better, but she wanted to try.

Leander extended a hand towards the exit. She felt like she was already flying with her excitement buzzing through her limbs.

“Honestly, Leander, I think that we have a good shot. I was able to practice flying so much over the summer. It is incredible going at those speeds! I don’t know why anyone would want to apparate. Flying is too much fun!” she gushed.

The redhead furrowed his brows. “I didn’t see you around London. Weren’t you staying with your family there?”

“Oh,” she started, realizing her mistake. “No, we actually were out in the country this year. My mother wanted to delay my debut for one more year.” She chewed the inside of her cheek, wondering if he would believe such a flimsy half-lie.

He nodded with a grin. “That makes sense why I didn’t see you at any of the parties I attended. You missed a great one at the Malfoy mansion.”

As Leander talked, she felt a mixture of chagrin about his usual self-absorption  and relief that he believed her.

But once they exited the castle, her eyes caught on the yellow uniforms of the Hufflepuff’s team. Warm, syrupy realization slid down the back of her head to her toes as a tall, broad shouldered figure approached.

Jonathan Honeydukes.

Her mother had forced her to one party before her birthday and before she traveled to Feldcroft. She had hidden as many confections as she could in the small pouch she snuck in, against her mother’s wishes, but during her ‘thievery’ she had laid eyes on Jonathan for the first time.

He was impossibly tall. When he brushed some of his brown curls out of his face, her breath had caught. His dark eyes seemed absolutely endless. She wondered, in that moment, what the stumble on his cheeks would feel like if she reached out and touched it.

He was the most beautiful boy she had ever seen, so she couldn’t talk to him at that party. Her mother would have scolded her for fumbling over her words, so she kept to herself. It didn’t stop her from sneaking glances the rest of the picnic. Her mother even complimented her on her lack of complaints about the length of the outing.

Sloane had never imagined that he would still be attending Hogwarts. Did that make him only a year older than me? Or a seventh year? Her heart hammered the closer he got.

“Ah, Prewett and?” Jonathan was already over to them as her thoughts disappeared like a snitch. 

She blinked, trying desperately to remember what her name was, but, thankfully and probably for the first time, Leander had more sense than her. “Sloane Frazier. She’s a fifth year like me.” Her friend shifted closer as he regarded the upperclassman. 

“Oh, yes, you attended the summer picnic my father put on this year with your parents.”

He remembers me! She nodded quickly, bumbling through her next sentence. “I didn’t introduce myself. I should have, but I was much too busy at the sweets table.” Her eyes widened as Jonathan and a few of his friends broke out into chuckles. A roaring blush rose all the way from her neck to the tip of her head. “Not that you aren’t as interesting as sweets!” she blurted, desperately trying to recover. None of the instructions her mother had ever given her about speaking with boys was muscle memory.

Johnathan’s eyes sparkled, the grin from his laugh not leaving his face. She could only chew the inside of her cheek as he spoke, so nonchalantly, “I do not blame you. My grandfather knew how to make the best, so I would steal as much as I could if I was in your situation. Good luck out there, you two. Hold your chin up and I’m sure you’ll make the team.”

Sloane’s heart stuttered as he winked at her. His friends jostled together, making a few jokes that she didn’t care to listen to. Jonathan Honeyduke thought she could make the team. He even remembered her! She wanted to squeal.

Leander’s huff interrupted her thoughts. She turned to him as he glared at her slightly. “I thought you were different from other girls. Every girl looks at him like that.”

She blinked, and the rose tint in her vision shattered. Many of the other girls in the courtyard were fanning themselves as he walked by. She nodded once to herself to shake loose all the desperation and distractions. “You’re right.”

His dark eyes widened, but he puffed his chest out at her compliment. “Of course.”

“Let’s make the team no matter what!” With her cry, she banished all thoughts that didn’t involve Quidditch. She wanted this in spite of her mother’s wishes. Wizards and witches alike loved players. It wouldn’t make her seem too masculine to someone like Jonathan Honeyduke. He would probably think highly of her if she was able to best his team this year. 

As her cousin, Bradford Hensley, paced back and forth, giving instructions on how tryouts would commence, she couldn’t hold her excitement. Leander couldn’t contain a tilt of his lips at her antics. The other Gryffindors pointedly ignored them. Many of them were trying for the same position as Leander, Beater, or going for Chaser. Sloane had only one other going for the Keeper. Which she figured was because the first string spot wasn’t open. 

Esmeralda Connelly had been the Gryffindor keeper since her third year. She was the largest girl Sloane had ever seen, and she couldn’t help but look up at her, figuratively and literally. She knew exactly what she wanted to do with her life and pursued it with the tenacity of a dragon. She commanded their section of the Quidditch pitch with grace and strength. 

Finally, Sloane was confident enough to try out for the team in hopes to learn from Connelly. Plus, it would be nice not to listen to her cousin consistently begging her to join as a second string Keeper before the older girl graduated. 

The school’s broom felt awkward in her hand as she stood next to the three goal posts. New Chasers would test their metal against Connelly before Sloane would have her chance to defend against two of the first string Chasers. Some grumbled about unfairness, but none left, so she swallowed her fear. 

Since she wasn’t first, it gave her time to watch Leander and how he fared. She winced, deciding it was better to pay attention to her side of the pitch after he was hit in the stomach and almost fell off his broom.

Nellie Oggspire leaned over to whisper in her ear, “Good luck. I thought I was a shoe in this year, but I’m glad for some competition.”

“I didn’t know what to expect, honestly,” she replied with a hesitant smile. Oggspire was a year ahead of her and they had hardly spoken before. But she seemed nice enough. “Good luck to you as well.”

“Thanks! My mother said this should be better than climbing roofs all day.”

Sloane couldn’t help a snicker that escaped. It made her wish that she had found her confidence sooner to have made friends with Oggspire. Her own mother wouldn’t have approved of climbing roofs either.

“Little lions!” Connelly called as she descended from her post in front of the goals. “Frazier, you’re up. Oggspire, you’re on deck. Good luck to the both of you.”

Sloane’s hand shook as she positioned herself over her broom. It sensed her nervousness, bucking slightly. She grit her teeth. I’ve faced spells and rocks flying at me as we escaped ruins, what’s a Quaffle compared to that?

With a deep breath, Sloane shot up to take Connelly’s spot. The two Chasers were both seventh years. She didn’t know how long they had been on the team, but she wasn’t going to let it get to her nerves. 

Bradford brought a whistle to his lips, and blew. The change in the pair’s demeanor was instant. They weren’t going to hold back because this was a tryout.

She had played a couple of short games before, but this was intense. The Quaffle flew from Chaser to Chaser at blinding speed. But she had a good grip on her broom and confidence in her improved reflexes. 

They feigned a toss left, barely giving her time to stand on her broom’s stirrups. She extended both arms. Fingertips grazed the bottom of the Quaffle, just enough, to ping it off the circular goal instead of letting them score. 

She wasn’t so lucky on their next shot.

Sloane had no idea how much time had passed as they pelted her with shot after shot. Her breathing came out in rasps. Her sweat stung her eyes, but she didn’t let her focus falter. Her legs started to cramp as she had begun guiding her broom more with them than a hand, making catching the Quaffle easier. 

A shrill whistle blew twice, startling her. She finally took in the rest of the pitch, having focused so hard on the two players in front of her that things had fallen away. The two seventh years nodded to her as Connelly hollered, “Oggspire’s turn, Frazier.”

When she caught her cousin’s gaze, there was a slight tilt to his lips. He barely nodded to her as she floated down, giving her an extra shot of confidence. When she touched the ground, Connelly leaned down. “We’ll have to work on your endurance.”

Sloane’s eyes widened, staring up at the older girl, but her eyes were back on Oggspire. She bit her lower lip, chewing it for a moment to keep her giddiness in. 

The rest of the tryouts were gone in a blink. She had no idea how they were able to see the skill of ten different candidates for Beater in the same amount of time that they watched the Chasers and Keepers. 

The four senior players gathered in the middle of the pitch as the hopefuls stayed near the entrance to the lockers. All of them practically danced in place as the anticipation grew. All eyes were on the four players making decisions of destiny.

Bradford was the first to begin a walk towards the cluster near the entrance. The other three followed swiftly, but all wore impassive expressions. Her cousin straightened his spine and fiddled with his captain’s uniform. “Longbottom and Jameson, first-string Beater.” The two broad shouldered boys clapped each other’s shoulders with a short, but joyous shout. “Michaels and Rogers, second-string.”

The two fourth years beamed, but there was some disappointment in their eyes. Sloane couldn’t blame them for the mixed feelings. Leander let out a loud sigh next to her, and she couldn’t help but grab a hold of his wrist over his bracers. He pouted next to her, giving a small shrug in defeat.

A few other names drifted over to them, but she was more focused on her friend. She regretted looking away from his tryout, but not totally if he hadn’t made the team. She vowed not to tease him about this. It seemed too mean even after he said those things about Poppy.

“Prewett.” Bradford called, probably for the second or third time, with a slight frown. “Equipment manager.”

Both of them stood stunned. It wasn’t a place on the team, but it was no less involved with it. He would have to check their brooms for curses or wear and tear, as well as taking care of their practice Quaffles and such. It was his turn to grab ahold of her wrist.

“Frazier.” A small smile snuck onto her cousin’s face as he watched the two fifth years. “Second-string Keeper.”

Her eyes widened, cupping a hand over her mouth to keep from squeaking. There was some grumbling from the other candidates as her name concluded who had made the team.

“We start practice this Sunday. Do not be late or you’re off the team. And as you can see there are plenty that will be around to take your place,” Bradford announced as he headed towards the locker room. 

Both Sloane and Leander went to their separate changing rooms, but both were vibrating with pride. It wasn’t the best outcome, but it was better than either one of them thought would happen.

As they exited, bright emerald and silver stomped towards them. Imelda Reyes had her shoulders squared and a cocky grin on her face as she made her way through the Gryffindors leaving. “A pity you have to change in these tacky locker rooms. Thank goodness Slytherins are so close to the pitch.”

“Not everyone lives in their Quidditch uniform, Imelda,” Sebastian leaned around her to give Sloane a grin. “I haven’t changed in my dorms ever, and I remember us winning last year, so I don’t think your superstition is real.”

The captain glared at him with a gaze so piercing that Sloane thought she might cut her housemate. “Hurry up and change. Or I’ll give your spot to someone else. Maybe Nott? Or possibly Avery?”

He scoffed as Imelda pushed past Sloane to enter the locker room, regardless if she needed to change or not.

There were a few seconds of awkward silence, but the silver-haired, and new Keeper, sighed, “Good luck.”

Sebastian’s eyebrows rose, expression shifting from hesitation to apologetic. “I am sorry about earlier. Ominis made it quite plain how stupid I was. I had only wanted to talk to you about the—”

“Conversing with the enemy?” Leander popped out of the boy’s locker room next to Sebastian. “You aren’t going to get any secrets out of her by being charming, Sallow.”

Sloane rolled her eyes as the red haired, and quite ridiculous, friend of hers stood tall next to her. She wondered if Leander was trying to be intimidating. 

The Slytherin did not take it as such. He flashed a smirk at both of them. “Well, considering I was on the winning team last year, Prewett, I don’t think I need any tips from the likes of you two.”

Leander almost growled next to her as Sebastian disappeared into the locker room with a ringing chuckle. She couldn’t help yet another eye roll as her friend ranted on their way back to the common room. 

Slowly, his rant turned into excited chatter the closer they got to the common room. He couldn’t believe his luck in becoming Equipment Manager, so she let him rattle on as flames of competition rose in her.

May the best team win. She thought to herself as both Sebastian and Imelda’s cockiness flashed in her mind.

Chapter Text

Sebastian

Thursday was a waste. He knew that the first week of school was as much of a waste as the last week after exams, but going over Accio in class had been so tedious that he thought he might cry. Even with Anne as his partner, he had an impossible time focusing. His Summoner’s Court performance was lackluster at best. He didn’t even care when Prewett, of all people, had bested him. 

To top off such a lukewarm day, Anne hadn’t felt up to eating in the Great Hall. Her eyes were forlorn, so he assumed she had gotten the same nightmarish sleep as he had. Most of the day she had spent focused on her appearance and fielding questions about the dark circles under her eyes. She didn’t even gush about her class with Sloane, but he wasn’t going to push her that night. Anne had cradled her knees to her chest in a velvety, jade armchair. Ominis had sat as close as he could on the couch next to her, helping her through her homework.

Sebastian wanted to have a better day today. Friday. It was the perfect day to try to pick up his bootstraps.

Both of his classes were with Sloane. Easy classes as well. Though he would never say it out loud to avoid offending Professor Garlick or receiving Professor Sharp’s wrath. 

The Slytherin trio ate breakfast in almost silence. Anne looked slightly better after an early night. Her usual teasing was back, so a weight left Sebastian’s shoulders as he walked toward Herbology, and they headed towards Divination. 

His gut twisted when he saw Prewett and Sloane laughing as Garreth was pulled aside by Professor Weasley on their way to the same classroom. If those two were in Herbology with Sloane, there would be no way for him to talk to her. 

His pace quickened without breaking out into a sprint. 

Prewett and Sloane had picked a potting table towards the back with one free chair next to her, for who, Sebastian assumed, was Garreth. He slid into the chair as nonchalantly as he could. 

The red head was the first to notice. “That seat’s taken.”

“Hm?” Sloane turned next. Her eye roll was worth whatever spewed out of her Gryffindor guard-puffskein. “Leander, let him be. Garreth can sit on the other side of you.” Prewett didn’t appreciate the cocky smirk Sebastian flashed at him when Sloane turned her scolding fully back to him. 

“I promise not to ask about Quidditch secrets,” he teased when her gaze shifted back to him.

“Oh, please, you’re not charming enough to get any secrets out of me.” 

Pixies fluttered in his chest and splashed color on his cheeks at her smirk. He blinked, opening his mouth to say something clever, but Weasley bound up to them. 

“Ah, Sallow, joining us?” The other red head stopped short, but didn’t look as upset as his other friend had at his presence. “Don’t expect to get a better grade because of us.”

Sloane scoffed. “I haven’t killed anything in a year, thank you.”

Professor Garlick tapped her wand against a pot, calling class to attention, but Sebastian noticed Prewett and Weasley shared a strained look. He ignored the glare that Prewett shot him after waving his friend off. 

Thankfully, Professor Garlick opted not to do a first day project or teamwork activity, and jumped right into their lesson. 

They would be planting a mundane plant called a Yarrow flower. It was found around the highlands, but with Hallows Eve quickly approaching, Nurse Blainey needs a hefty supply if the students are going to indulge themselves at the Hallows Eve Dance. Their professor also advised that having a steady supply of Yarrow flowers would help in other aspects as well, especially for the ladies of the class.

Sebastian absentmindedly took notes, barely committing the information to memory. He understood the basics of Herbology as it pertained to potions, but going into the details wasn’t important to him. What plant would help him cure a curse after all?

Their professor had students grab their own potting trays, but Levioso- ed large bags of soil to each section of tables. Once Sloane had settled her supplies she disappeared to the front of the class. 

“What are you doing?” the Slytherin snapped at Prewett as he fumbled with Sloane’s station. Weasley pointedly ignored them. “She isn’t going to like you doing her work for her.” He tried to garner some support from the smarter of the two, but Weasley refused to look up from his own potting trays.

Prewett rolled his eyes. “I’ve been doing most of her herbology work since last year. She hasn’t noticed and you aren’t going to ruin this for me.”

“Ruin?”

“Yes, leave the tray alone.”

Sebastian took another step towards the other boy, trying to swat away the dirt he was trying to load into her tray instead of his own. “Are you that daft to think she enjoys having someone do the work for her?”

“Come off your high horse, Sallow. Just because she spends summers with your sister, doesn’t mean you actually know her.”

He tugged the porcelain tray closer to his section of the planting table. “Have you forgotten Defense Against the Dark Arts already?”

When the halfwit yanked her tray back towards himself, Sebastian held on, but in their fumbling it tipped and crashed to the floor, shattering. When the two of them looked up, both Professor Garlick and Sloane were looking at them. One with a bemused smile and the other with a colder-than-frost glower.

“Now, now, no roughhousing on the first day. Please hold off until at least the second week, you two.” A lilting admonishment came from their professor as Sloane stomped back to them.

“ Reparo, ” she muttered. Her tray collected itself at her table, but the soil that Prewett had added stayed at her feet. With another flick of her wand and a, “ Scourgify ,” her station was back to pristine. 

Sebastian glowered at his own tray, begrudgingly keeping to himself for the rest of the class since each time the birdbrain tried to interact with Sloane, she would cast that frigid glare at him again. 

Lunch time took forever to arrive. 

It stung when Sloane had stomped off with Garreth, leaving both Prewett and himself behind.

“I told you she wouldn’t like it,” he goaded.

The taller boy scoffed, “Please, she’s more upset that you broke her tray.”

Sebastian rolled his eyes, but Prewett made himself scarce as Anne and Ominis headed towards them. He sighed, receiving a confused look from his twin. “Something the matter with you and Prewett?”

“Nothing more than usual,” he grumbled as they sat down.

Ominis raised an eyebrow, but Anne was too focused on lunch to notice. They chatted about their predictions in Divination, leaving Sebastian to his plans. If he couldn’t talk to Sloane in Herbology, he still had a chance in Potions this afternoon. He shouldn’t need another chance since Prewett wouldn’t be poisoning her demeanor. 

His best friend eyed him as they traveled down to the potion’s classroom. “You seem wound up.”

“I am not.”

“You were obnoxiously twitchy while sitting at our meal just now. As well as casting glares over at Prewett when he ‘hasn’t been bothering you more than normal’. Did something happen in Herbology?”

“How do you even know that I was glaring at him? Did Anne say something?”

“No, but thank you for admitting it.”

Sebastian grumbled some unintelligible curses as he slumped into his seat. He helped Ominis set up his potion station as the rest of their classmates filtered in. Now that his best friend had pointed it out, he kept having to stop his leg from bouncing as he waited. He knew he wouldn’t see the annoying red head again, but Sloane still hadn’t shown up to class. Was he that worried about talking to her about the troll? 

Or interested? Obsessed? He hadn’t thought about a girl this much, other than Anne, but she was his twin. He didn’t feel waves and waves of guilt crashing down on him when he saw Sloane. It was fluttery and desperate. She snuck into his mind at night, pushing away any coherent thoughts or sleep. He only seemed to have nightmares about Anne.

I need to focus. I can’t fail any classes. He sighed, rubbing his palm against his cheek as Professor Sharp began their lesson.

Only to be interrupted by Sloane and Weasley crashing through the door with their roars of laughter echoing.

Sharp wasn’t as assumed as his tardy students. “Ten points from Gryffindor for each of you. I expect this will be the only time you’re late this year.” Neither student looked overly ashamed, but took their seats quickly with stifled giggles. Thankfully, Sharp took pity on the fifth years and kept the potion brewing simple for class.

Wiggenweld.

Regardless of its simplicity, neither Sebastian or Ominis were able to brew it. His best friend was first to break with a grumble, “If you aren’t going to be any help today, I’m going to ask someone else.”

His nose scrunched at the accusation, but before he could retort, the blond had folded an unused bit of parchment into a small bird with a flick of his wand. To Sebastian’s horror and glee it dithered over to hit Sloane in the cheek. She jumped, but swiftly unfolded the paper.

Amit Thakkar, shot her a disapproving look as she stood and left her own potion to its own devices. Then, scowled as Weasley leaned over to stir her cauldron for her. He grumbled and scolded the other boy, but he didn’t seem to care.

Sloane leaned against Ominis’ side of the potion station. “A little birdie told me that Sebastian is useless.”

He turned to his best friend, completely offended at the boy's antics, blurting without thinking, “I think you just wanted a pretty girl to help you.”

“I can’t even see her to form an opinion,” he replied drily. He pointed to his cauldron. “I know I have to add the Horklump juice once it turns a paler green, but I can’t see, and Sebastian’s head is in the clouds.”

Sloane chewed on her lip as her eyes flickered from Ominis to Sebastian. There was barely a dusting of a blush on the tops of her cheeks, but her gaze stayed pointedly at the blond. “I see, especially since he seems intent on complimenting instead of brewing.”

“Only to you,” he grumbled before Sebastian could make any other quips. 

She didn’t seem to hear him as she went about cleaning up the mess. She mumbled through instructions to herself as she passed ingredients to the blond. 

All Sebastian could do was pretend that he turned his focus back on his own potion. More questions about her summer, her magic, her confidence twisted and knotted in his mind without braving his tongue. In his quiet, his eyes kept trailing to her scar. It was faint as if it had healed long ago, but it must have been severe to leave a mark on a witch. He needed to know where she got it. Would complimenting it bring a blush to her cheeks again?

“Now! Ominis!” Sloane squeaked, causing both boys to jump and few others to turn in their seats.

Sebastian spied Weasley smirking over at them. He clenched his fist in his lap. Of course, the Slytherin wasn’t the only one that noticed the changes in her. Weasley was the smarter Gryffindor she befriended.

“You don’t have to shout!” Ominis growled, but fumbled slightly with his bottle of Horklump juice.

“Sorry, sorry, here stir!”

“You’re still shouting.”

She bit her lip to keep from snickering at Ominis’ unamused tone. “I can’t help it. I got excited. Who knew watching someone else’s potion could be fun?”

“Yes, yes, I am once again reminded why you and Anne make such good friends.”

A beautiful and bright grin spread across her face. “Why thank you for the compliment, Ominis.”

He snorted, opening his mouth to reply, but a short, high pitch yelp drew their attention away. 

Amit pointed at Sloane’s frothing cauldron. Before she could even move back to her table to possibly salvage it, bright lavender foam poured from it and all over her table.

Weasley didn’t even attempt to look apologetic when the Ravenclaw pointed an accusatory finger his way. The starlit girl threw up her hands with a growl, “Garreth! What did you do?!”

“Five points from Gryffindor, Weasley, don’t touch other’s cauldrons. Frazier, don’t leave your cauldron unattended in the middle of a brew,” Sharp admonished as she begrudgingly cleaned her station. 

Gloom settled over Sebastian as he realized that not only had he not brewed the assignment, but he had barely spoken to Sloane when he had gotten the chance. The rest of class was rather uneventful as he finally focused on his assignment. He and Sloane were one of the last students to finish, but he wasn’t able to catch her before she raced off to scold Weasley again. 

His shoulders slumped, but before he could turn to the Great Hall for an early dinner before Quidditch practice, Ominis tapped him on the shoulder. “We need to talk.”

Sebastian pursed his lips, but followed his friend without so much as a huff. He was probably going to get a friendly lecture about paying attention in class. Ominis would talk about how disappointed Anne would be in him if he let his mind go to waste while she was dealing with the curse.

As they entered the Undercroft, he ran his hands down his face. “I know I wasn’t the best partner in potions today, but I think I should be allowed some grace.”

Ominis was quiet. He stood next to one of the pillars as Sebastian took to pacing in the middle of the room. He only halted when his friend accused, “You have feelings for Miss Frazier.”

He was taken aback. A frown formed, then he shook his head, and finally ended his confusion with a scoff. “You have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“I think I do. You have been volleying from researching this curse and speaking about Miss Frazier. Or making the most lackluster conversation with her. I know you were paying more attention to her than potions today. I’m sure in Herbology as well.”

Sebastian threw his hands up, growling through a few curses as he tried to outsmart Ominis’ observation. 

“You’re so easy to read that I don’t even need sight. What is so difficult about admitting you have feelings for her?”

“I don’t have feelings for her! Something incredible happened when we went to Hogsmeade together and I haven’t found the right time to talk to her about it!” he snapped.

Ominis looked unimpressed by his explanation. 

He grit his teeth, growling, “We fought a troll, yes, but she turned to ash. One moment it was there and the next it was gone. No spell, nothing. She even got a new wand this year! Not to mention her hair change!”

This gave the blond pause. His head slowly tilted as he weighed Sebastian’s information. He shook his head, muttering, “She could have learned wandless or quiet magic over the summer.”

“Do you really think she could figure that out in the couple of months she didn’t spend in Feldcroft?”

“I think Miss Frazier is rather intelligent, but that level of magic would be rather difficult to master in that amount of time. Even if she had help.”

“Exactly! This is why I need to talk to her. To get to the bottom of whatever happened to her after she left. This has nothing to do with silly feelings.”

Ominis rolled his eyes at Sebastian’s last statement, but didn’t comment. He merely gestured to the exit. He followed without another word, knowing they had spent long enough hashing this out before grabbing food. 

Quidditch practice helped him keep his thoughts away from Sloane for the most part. Imelda barking orders and plays, overshadowed any distraction. By the time he made it back to the common room and his dorm, he was completely exhausted. At least tomorrow he would be able to spend the day in the library to make up for being unable to write any notes today.

As he drifted to sleep, he couldn’t tell if he dreamed the dorm room’s door opening or if someone was actually sneaking out. Why did he care anyway? His dorm mates could do whatever they pleased. Regardless of reality, his dreams turned towards Sloane. Her determination to keep him safe from the troll. Even in his dreams, she seemed to make his chest flutter.

Chapter Text

Sloane

The sun peaked in through the few windows in the tower’s roof. Sloane hadn’t pulled her bed’s curtains closed the night before, but she didn’t mind. It cast a warm glow across her body. Dust motes cascaded through the open spaces as she blinked blearily. She could wake up as slowly as she wanted on this glorious Saturday.

With the Friday she had, she contemplated staying in the girl’s dorm for the entirety of the day, so she wouldn’t have to see Leander. She had her suspicions, but she hadn’t wanted proof so blatant. Garreth had tried to claim innocence. She didn’t want to talk to him either.

Neither seemed overly apologetic considering she had barely passed Herbology with assistance. 

She laid in bed with a mixture of rage and resignation. She had truly thought she had improved in Herbology. Barely, but two Troll grades couldn’t be the end of the world? Well, if her mother never found out.

She pulled her pillow over her head, and screamed.

“I seem to always find you at some interestingly low moments.”

Sloane threw her pillow down to her stomach with a huff. Her hair was all over the place, static abound. Natty looked down at her from the side of the bed, fully dressed in casual wear. Instead of the normal school uniform she was accustomed to seeing her roommate in, she had donned a long powder blue dress and a wide brimmed white hat. “It seems that way because you’re always standing leagues above the rest of us silly Gryffindors. How did you get so good at being in this house after only a year?”

“I was always meant to be here. Just as you are. We’re on equal footing.” The smile Natty wore gave a slight teasing edge to her next words, “Except in Charms. I am quite a few hundred leagues above you.”

Sloane scoffed, taking the chance to throw her pillow at the other girl. “Don’t rub it in! Goodness.”

Natty’s laugh was glorious. She waved one of her hands as the other went to her stomach. Sloane couldn’t help joining her, their laughs echoing through the dorm room for longer than necessary after Sloane had snorted. “Well, Sloane, would you like me to make up for the barb?”

“Yes!”

“Would you like to join me for the Magical Games Club meeting this morning? I invited both Poppy Sweeting and Amit Thakker to be on my team for croquet.”

“I haven’t played in ages,” Sloane laughed as she swung her legs off the bed. “I’d love to join you. Is there a strict dress code?”

Natty shook her head. “No, but it is Saturday, and I deserve to look as lovely as possible.”

Sloane couldn’t come up with a rebuttal for that sound argument, so she stood and searched through her own wardrobe to find something that made her feel lovely as well. She pulled out a pair of tan trousers, woolen since it was a bit chilly outside today. She slid a gray undershirt on before her corset. She finished her outfit with a sweater her grandmother had knitted her before her death. It had darker diamond accents to represent the strength of the Rowle family. 

Lastly, she added a small sash to her belt before twirling for Natty. She graciously clapped. “Excellent choice! Quite lovely.”

“Thank you, now, let us have a wonderful time!”

They were able to make it to the castle’s courtyard without running into the two Gryffindors she desperately wanted to avoid. 

Both Poppy and Thakker were waiting on the outskirts of a large group of students. 

“Late addition?” Professor Ronen asked with a warm grin as they approached. 

Their other partners waved enthusiastically, and bounded over to them. Natty nodded, saying, “Yes! Now, we won’t be at a disadvantage.”

Once everyone was settled about the playing field, Professor Ronen began explaining the rules. They were simple enough if you weren’t terrible at charms. Sloane was nervous about being helpful to her team until the rules about using spells to give other teams disadvantages. Thakker was already coming up with a strategy as they made their way to the seventh wicket.

Sloane was thankful that instead of letting her competitive streak run rampant, she enjoyed the game and the company she played with. Natty and Poppy seemed to have their own private conversation going on as Sloane and Thakker discussed next moves. Out of the corner of her eye, as Thakker was talking about physics and trajectory, she caught Poppy blushing at something Natty whispered in her ear. The white hat blocked any attempts for lip reading, but Sloane left them to their secrets.

Once lunch had arrived, the game had a few more teams that needed to finish, but the foursome had come in third, so they rushed to the Great Hall. It was a giddy affair. Thakker had announced that since they had all played at least one game together, that they should start calling him Amit. None of them protested the thinly veiled request.

The rest of the afternoon Sloane poured over her homework. She didn’t want Professor Fig to think that she slacked off while he was away, but the book nagged at her. 

Was she actually meant to get it or was it supposed to only be in the hands of the professor? During the summer she had begun to understand how dire this Ancient Magic made her lack of knowledge, but this made it sound something more coveted than dangerous. 

Or was it coveted because of its danger? Why must Headmaster Black only ask Professor Fig for favors?! Weren’t there other teachers he could rely on? Sloane stared down at her empty parchment that was meant to be Charms homework. She wasn’t going anywhere. She needed a break to get her mind off the silly, but overly important book.

She changed into clothes that were more suitable for outside, regardless if she was reusing an outfit on the same day. 

The young witch decided, after she waved to The Fat Lady on her way out, that she would do some flying. It would help her clear her head, do some scouting for other ruins, and keep her sharp on a broom.

Her mother never let her stay on a broom for too long, stating that “A lady should never look that disheveled.” Which Sloane, supposed, was an excellent argument, but what was the point in being a witch if one could not fly? She snuck in practice at her cousin’s house while their mothers gossiped about the latest matches and whatever else.

As Sloane mounted her broom, she felt a swell of pride. There were plenty of things over the summer she had done that would have made her mother swoon. Each time she remembered, she cared less and less about her mother’s sensibilities. Or her demands.

Gliding through the air, with her short hair wildly whipping, couldn’t be beat. She was brave enough to close her eyes, wind blocking out all over sounds, and fly. Soar above the grounds and annoyances and everything. To simply be in magic.

Breathless and jittery, Sloane took stock of her surroundings. She had flown quite far from the castle grounds. It was almost evening, and quite possibly by the time she made it back to the castle it would be after dinner. She might even push the fifth year curfew if she wasn’t quick about it.

Yet, as she glanced towards the ground, she saw a pair of figures dash into a grove of pines, heading north. From her vantage point, she spotted a small grouping of tents, barely seen through the foliage. Curiosity piqued, she glided down towards the tips of the trees. She descended farther when she couldn’t get a clear view of the pair she saw earlier.

Her broom disappeared into one of her charmed pockets as she crouched. The pair was hiding behind a bush on the outskirts of the camp. She stayed hidden behind a tree, scouting out what was going on around the tents.

There were large wooden cages full of colorful Fwoopers. Their beaks opened, but no sound came forth. The men surrounding the cages let out hardy chuckles, slapping each other's shoulders while shouting congratulations to each other. Surrounding the bottoms of the tents were Honking Daffodils. Clever. Sloane thought to herself. They won’t have to employ guard dogs with those planted everywhere.

There was a large tent at the south end, where a woman stepped forth and started barking orders at the rest. Sloane only caught “Drop off” and “Payment”. 

She whorled around at the snap of a twig to find Natty and Poppy with their wands pointed at her. All three sets of eyes widened with the same question blossoming on their faces. But before they could voice it, Poppy brought her fingers to her lips, moving closer to Sloane’s hiding spot. Her voice came out barely above a whisper, “They’re poachers.”

A thousand thoughts and questions danced in her mind. One louder than the next, but all Sloane found herself doing was hardening her expression and glancing to the camp. “What were you planning?”

“Surprise them and release the Fwoopers,” Natty murmured. Her eyes held determination that would have lit the flames of the coldest heart, and, by God, was Sloane proud to be in the same house as her.

Her eyes flickered to Poppy’s, who looked more hesitant at the silence, but it was washed away by her widening grin. “Then let's give them a hell of a night.”

The Hufflepuff’s mouth popped open at the curse, but Natty nodded approvingly. They snuck their way back to the bush, taking a few minutes to observe the movements of the poachers.

Many of them seemed invested in Stupefy-ing individual Fwoopers and sorting them into crates. The woman who seemed to be the ringleader had returned to her tent. It didn’t seem like any of them were worried about anything but their ‘chores’.

The trio exchanged glances, one nod, then took off towards the camp. As the daffodils seemed to stir some alarm throughout the small camp, it was already too late.

“ Stupefy!”

“ Alohomora!”

“ Expelliarmus!”

After their three spells hit their marks, there was so much shouting. 

Deep, gruff voices growled curses, but the three fifth years didn’t stop their onslaught. 

Fear made their movements sharp, but not altogether precise. Poppy was almost hit with an errant Stupefy , but Natty was there with a shield and Sloane pressed her back against the other Gryffindor’s to give their friend more time to collect herself.

The Fwoppers, who were conscious, took off in a flutter of colors, hooting and chirping as they disappeared into the trees.

More poachers popped out of tents at the commotion.

With numbers against them, the trio began to lose against the tide. Natty’s Protego cracked and shattered, but Poppy hadn’t caught her breath just yet. Sloane snarled several, “ Gelus !” but each ice shard bounced off the more prepared adults’ shields.

They were surrounded. Outnumbered. Surmounted.

Sneers and chuckles surrounded them as the circle tightened. They bravely held their wands, ready to cast whatever they had to, but—

“Cover your ears!” Poppy cried, clapping her hands over her ears.

Natty and Sloane didn’t hesitate.

A lone Fwooper had stayed behind. It sat on an outstretched branch above the camp. Its feathers were the pink of dawn after a harrowing night. It shimmered in the last legs of sunset. It was the most beautiful thing Sloane had ever seen.

Without any preamble it began to sing. Echoing through the trees and their heads, even with their hands covering their ears.

The closest poacher to the bird began to cackle, firing off basic casts wildly at the others. Automatically, the others tried to defend themselves, but each eventually succumbed to the maddening song of their savior. In the chaos, the girls made their escape.

Some distance away, closer to a main thoroughfare, they collapsed into a heap of limbs and cackles.

“I can’t believe—”

“That was incredib—”

“We have to do that—”

They all started at once, and dissolved into more giggles when they paused at the same time.

Sloane covered her face, the first to recover, and muttered, “It’s, how do I put this into words? I want to save more creatures, but also never do it again?”

Each started when there was a deafening explosion behind them. A large plume of black smoke rose from the trees, sparks lighting up the night as it climbed higher and higher. Out of the grove flew the pink Fwooper. None of them moved as it landed on the stone wall in front of them. 

This time Poppy was the first to move, taking a step closer.

“What are you doing?” Natty snapped, reaching out to grab ahold of her sleeve.

“Don’t worry, he’s friendly.”

Sloane gaped, while her fellow Gryffindor scowled.

“He was the one that sang to save us.”

“Yes, I see that, but why is he following us?”

Poppy pursed her lips, looking back and forth before shrugging. “He likes us.”

Sloane covered her ears as the other two continued to argue. She wasn’t going to take any chances. She always thought it was an old wives' tale that Fwooper could drive a person mad if they ever sang. She didn’t like knowing for a fact that’s what would happen.

They froze once again when the creature flapped once, twice, flopping onto Poppy’s head unceremoniously. It cooed and plucked a few strands of her hair into its beak. She giggled as Natty let out an exasperated sigh. “We can’t bring it to school!”

Poppy snorted. “He wouldn’t be the first animal I’ve brought back to my dorm.” The other two gave her incredulous looks until she muttered, bitterly, “Everyone will just think I’m trying to sell him or something.”

Natty opened her mouth, Sloane was sure to say something scathing about her housemates, but snapped it shut when Poppy hummed happily as she took out her broom. She tried to get Sloane on her side, but the starlit-haired witch merely shrugged. This elicited an exhausted exhale from her, but she made no other attempts to dissuade the Hufflepuff.

Their flight back to the castle was full of righteous content and spent in silence. Until they reached the door near the Beast Classroom. “Alright, Minty, you’ll have—”

“Minty?” Sloane and Natty exclaimed.

Poppy frowned. “Now that you say it out loud, I don’t really like it.” She reached up to scratch under the Fwooper’s beak. It twittered as she said, resolutely, “You’re much more of an Augustus. Tus-Tus for short!”

With the mirth glittering in her eyes, neither Gryffindor had the heart to tell her that not only were those names wildly different, but Tus-Tus was equally bad to Minty. But who were they to disagree with Poppy and the hooting Tus-Tus?

Chapter Text

Sebastian 

Since tomorrow was the first day of official classes, Sebastian knew that the prefects would be a bit lax on their evening patrols. Many students hadn’t become stir crazy enough to cause problems.

With a practically silent Disillusionment Charm cast, he exited the common room. There were a few seventh years lingering in the halls, but he paid no mind. They were too tangled up in their conversations or worse, each other. He had no desire to stumble into anyone in dark corners.

He was nearly trampled when he began his ascent up the narrower staircase. Two seventh-year boys were racing each other down to the dungeons. One was teasing the other about snogging a Hufflepuff. Echoes of laughter traveled up behind him the rest of the way. His mind began gravitating towards a witch before he nearly lost his way in the darkness.

Sebastian needed all of his focus on his task. The Restricted Section. Fundamentals were not enough to untangle what had taken over his twin.

Ominis suggested that he look about the library other than the obvious section off limits. He knew it wouldn’t hold what he needed, and worst still, take much longer than he was willing to. Especially, since his best friend refused to help him. A bit of tension rose between the two, but with Anne always around the corner, it simmered in glares and aggravated sighs.

The Slytherin breathed a sigh of relief as the library door shut, silently, behind him. The room was cast in gray tones, the only light filtering in from the full moon outside. He took a breath, closing his eyes. A sacredness permeated the silence of the temple to knowledge. He wondered if his parents would approve of him breaking into the library in search of dark secrets.

Sebastian shook himself, tugging his thoughts away from diversions. He tiptoed over to Madam Scribner’s desk, knowing she hid one of the keys to the Restricted Section in there. He snorted to himself when he pulled over the top right drawer. Have other students never thought to sneak in there? He mused.

He checked the library once more for any seventh-years in dark corners as he snuck off to the gates, but he found no one. There weren’t many moments in Hogwarts where one would find themselves completely alone. His smirk turned greedy as the lock turned and fell into his hand. This exploration would be easier than he thought.

With a faint Lumos glowing at the end of his wand, he began searching the shelves. 

The first book he came across had the title scratched off the front. It sent an abject gloom burrowing into his fingertips. Something dark lived between these pages and it would help him. It had to. 

He took a seat at the wall as he pulled out some parchment. If the author can’t even be named, there has to be some interesting information contained within. 

As he delved into the text, he realized that it was a reprint of a diary. They bragged about bolstering the Bubonic Plague by charming rats to be hardier and less likely to be seen. Muggles were devastated.

After depictions of the wounds and treatment of bodies that only held macabre glee, Sebastian set the diary down. He took a long moment looking out of the cage surrounding the section. Images of his twin with boils bombarded the back of his eyelids. He clenched his fists, forcing himself to look for another book. Maybe one with a title this time.

The next book that caught his attention was emerald and silver. It was smaller than the last. In the right, bottom corner was a name in an elegant script.

Merlin

Sebastian’s heart leapt. Even if this was another diary, it didn’t matter if this was Merlin. Merlin . He held his breath as he began flipping through the first few entries. One caught his eye immediately.

Today, in Dark Arts, our debate on curses went from friendly to heated argument in mere seconds. 

Gryffindor affirmed that to make a good curse, one should always have a cure. The two other housemates nodded in agreement. 

While Slytherin declared that there should never be an out. Many of us agreed. If one was spiteful enough to cast a curse on another, why would we ever want a cure? Though, even with a rival as ambitious as Sepeteus Slytherin I don’t believe I could bring myself to curse him indefinitely.

Professor Hastings gave merit to both, trying to calm the two of them, but Slytherin pressed, “The only reason you want a cure is because you’re not strong enough to commit.” 

Gryffindor refuted, stating that if someone knew of a cure, no matter how complicated, they would spend the rest of their days desperately searching, which would add a layer to the curse. 

Professor Hasting finally rushed off to find one of the Headmasters or Headmistresses to escort them back to their common rooms. Both wizards almost came to blows by the time Headmistress Ravenclaw arrived.

On their way out, some of their shouting echoed through the room. Gryffindor didn’t believe that a curse’s end should be death, but resignation to one’s fate. Slytherin’s rebuttal was sharp. “What better way to rid one of their enemies than with their painful death?” 

The rest of class was much less argumentative, but I could not stop thinking about their points. If Slytherin was going to follow in his father’s footsteps, worrying about blood purity and power until it blinded him, shouldn’t someone create a magical item that could combat such a curse that he would inevitably create? Would there be a way to create something powerful enough to remove another wizard’s curse? Or would it be possible to create a team to combat such a nefarious wizard and their curses?

Sebastian couldn’t believe his eyes. Had Merlin been the first Curse Breaker? He spent his school life with the children of the founders of Hogwarts! His fingers tightened around the book. This might not have the information he needed, but this gives him more insight into a curse maker’s mind than any of his silly textbooks. He set the journal on a glass case to bring back to his dorm after he was finished.

For another few hours, the Slytherin poured over the shelves. Anything he could get his hands on that had Merlin’s name on it. Sadly, it wasn’t as many as he had hoped, but it looked like there were three different journals from different eras of Merlin’s life kept in the Restricted Section. From the pages he glanced at, he had no idea why they needed to be kept away from the general school population. 

It didn’t stop him from feeling giddy as he neared the gate cordoning off the illicit books, but as he passed the threshold, the journals flew from his hands. They landed open on the floor. He grit his teeth, chastising himself for not thinking of this. It wouldn’t be a restricted section of the library without some charms keeping the books inside. He would have to make other trips and with more supplies.

His brows furrowed, wondering if there was an order to the books or if he could hide these journals in a corner somewhere that he could return to. He opted to put them in a corner, near the gate at floor level that was mostly hidden by a desk on the other side. 

He relocked the gate as he began a list of what he should bring the next time. He might want to invest in some enchanted glasses that will help him read without casting Lumos . 

Where would I buy something like that? I’m sure in Hogsmeade, but too many of the shopkeepers know the professors. There’s a chance that they might mention it. I should probably just charm my own. He contemplated. He stood in front of Madam Scribner’s desk, tapping his chin. I might need to speak to Weasley about some invisible ink, just in case. Or a less suspicious charmed ink. Possibly a journal myself.

There was a slight spring in his step as he slowly exited the library. At this time in the morning, everyone would be asleep besides the house elves preparing breakfast. He wouldn’t even need to cast another Disillusionment Charm.

Well, that is what he assumed until he came face to face with Madam Scribner in her night clothes and robe. Her hands were on her hips as she said, “I am so disappointed in you, Sebastian. Sneaking into the Restricted Section and trying to take the books from there? What were you thinking?”

He swallowed thickly, realizing that his biggest mistake was his arrogance and lack of planning. This was Hogwarts, and the professors never wanted them delving into anything too dark and interesting.

Sebastian put on his best faux guilty expression. “I only wanted to get ahead in my charms work. The charms that we have been working on lately are so easy, and I thought I could study in my own time for my O.W.L.s.”

“The Restricted Section will not help you with your tests, Mr. Sallow,” Madam Scribner sighed, losing some of her anger. “If you want literature on more advanced charms you can ask myself or Professor Ronen. I’m sure there are plenty of books that will occupy your brilliant mind.” She narrowed her eyes, looking the sternest that Sebastian had ever seen her.

He made sure to nod with a slight pout to his lips. “Of course, I should have thought more than resorting to the Restricted Section.”

With one curt nod, Madam Scribner gestured away from the library. “Let me walk you back to your common room, so you do not have any other early morning ideas.”

The walk back to the dungeons was wrought with tense and thick silence. This was not the first time he had been in trouble, but it was the first with Madam Scribner. She had worked with his parents a few times before she became the librarian of Hogwarts, so she was always excited to see the twins. Anne and Sebastian appreciated that she didn’t pity them as outwardly as some of the other professors would after they found out about their parents’ deaths.

When the snake revealed the doorway to the common room, Madam Scribner set a hand on his shoulder. “I understand in times of uncertainty searching for knowledge, but the Restricted Section is barred for most students for a reason. If I find you there again, I will not be as lenient.”

Sebastian nodded solemnly, disappearing into the common room. As he descended the stairs, his head filled up with plans. Another checklist to dutifully follow to get closer to a solution for his twin. It was barely the first week of school and he felt like he was making some progress!

“Where were you?” Ominis turned from one of the couches. 

Tension built in his shoulders under his best friend’s scrutinizing gaze. Sebastian opened his mouth to lie, but a blond eyebrow twitched at his hesitation. “The library.”

“Pray tell why you spent the whole night there.”

“Research.”

Ominis let out a great sigh, throwing his hands up. “I assumed as much. I had so hoped that why I found your bed empty in the middle of the night that maybe you had a nightmare. Maybe you were in the common room, studying. What ridiculously misplaced hope that was,” he snapped. He stood, stabbing a finger in his best friend’s direction. “I told you not to do anything rash!”

“It wasn’t rash!” he retorted. “I told you I would use any means possible!”

“There are so many other places that you can look besides the Restricted Section if you must continue this fruitless crusade!”

“How dare you call this fruitless! This is for Anne!”

“You can’t justify all of your misbehavior because of your sister! Think rationally!”

“Think rationally?” he snarled. “I am doing more than those idiot doctors at St. Mungos! They barely looked at her and said it was a lost cause! How am I meant to accept that?”

“How are you supposed to know more than trained medical witches and wizards?”

“Because—”

“Enough shouting!” Victoria, one of the seventh-year prefects, stomped from the girl’s side. “I can hear you all the way down the hall. Have some bloody decorum.” 

Both boy’s eyes widened at her curse, but fell silent. 

They exchanged a glare before she spoke up again, “Get to your rooms. Breakfast is only in an hour or so. Please try to get some sleep before then instead of waking the rest of us up.”

The two boys slinked off to their dorm room in silence. Exhaustion was finally hitting Sebastian. A small part hoped that Ominis hadn’t waited all night for him, but the dark circles under his eyes told a different story. A larger and louder part of him was upset that it seemed like everyone wanted to get in his way.

He charmed his wand to wake him when he only had ten minutes to get to Arithmancy, uncaring if he made it there a little late. He drew his curtains closed. As he slipped to sleep, he remembered that he would have Defense Against the Dark Arts with Sloane today. Maybe things would turn around.

Chapter Text

Sloane

Since the lesson in Transfiguration was casting heavy, Anne was exhausted by the end of class. She apologized profusely about not being up to spending time with Sloane, but the Gryffindor wasn’t going to force Anne into anything. They could talk whenever Anne felt up to it. Her best friend was relieved at the understanding. 

But in reality, Sloane wanted some time to ask Professor Weasley a question. She easily waved off Leander when he asked to walk her back to the common room with a promise to study with him later.

Sloane couldn’t help wringing her hands as she approached her professor and head of house’s desk. She didn’t like lying in general, but now it felt so much worse, but she steeled her nerves and squeaked, “Professor?”

“Sloane, how are your classes treating you?” Professor Weasley’s calm voice put her at ease almost immediately, but didn’t dissuade her guilt.

She forced a—what she hoped was convincing—grin. “Quite well! I do have a favor, or well, a hypothetical question to ask.”

“I will do my best to help, ask away.”

“If a student needed an empty classroom or something to practice new transfiguration spells she—they have recently learned or read about, would you know about something or somewhere?” Her grin grew more and more strained as she fumbled over words and the Professor’s expression became more amused.

“I do have a solution to this hypothetical.” The older woman paused to lean her head on her knitted fingers, and Sloane wondered if she was enjoying her anxiety. “Have you visited the seventh floor of the Astronomy Tower? I’m sure as long as you look hard enough, you’ll find something.”

With furrowed brows, Sloane nodded and left the classroom. The Astronomy Tower? Her eyebrows pinched harder as she mulled over the words. She didn’t know much about the tower besides Amit loved talking about the tapestries and the advanced telescopes they had in the Astronomy classroom. She was kicking herself now for tuning out his ramblings.

But as she decided to find the Ravenclaw for help, Natty and Poppy popped out of a corridor. Her expression brightened, excitement bleeding into her tone, “Natty! Poppy! I need your help!”

Both girls jumped at her volume, but curiosity helped them overcome their shock quickly. Poppy slowly smirked, moving closer to whisper conspiratorially, “Does it have to do with boys?”

“What? No! Our Fwooper problem.”

“Interesting.” Natty tapped her chin. “What do you need help with?”

“I spoke to Professor Weasley. I think she gave me a riddle to figure out for an empty classroom. I told her I wanted to practice more transfiguration spells.”

Her fellow Gryffindor snorted. “What a believable story as well! It’s almost as if you want to try that as well as keep Tus-Tus safe.” She quirked a teasing eyebrow.

Sloane rolled her eyes. “Follow me.”

The three ascended the stairs, passing other students taking early dinners or heading to their evening club rooms. They had to take a small break halfway up the stairs to calm their panting and wonder how Amit climbed these stairs constantly. 

When they arrived in the hallway, they were met with silence. There were no other students. The tapestry to their left looped the same scene over and over again in silence. 

“Huh.” Poppy tapped her chin as she investigated the blank stone wall to their right. “This definitely doesn’t look like a room, but why is the wall completely empty?”

“What did Professor Weasley say exactly?” Natty turned to Sloane from the tapestry.

She pursed her lips. “Something about if we look hard enough for an empty classroom, but we don’t really need one, right? We need somewhere to help with our club-that-isn’t-a-club. And Tus-Tus…”

Poppy snickered. “So like a hideout?”

The Gryffindor frowned, concentrating on the idea of a hideout. The only students that come up here at night are astronomy students, so there’s a way for us to get around prefects. If we had a hideout here, it would need to have room for not only Augustus, but for us to plan out our next step in. But this hallway is empty… How could it have a room that size?

“Look!” Natty gasped, pointing to the rapidly changing wall.

The trio stood in silence as a plain door appeared in front of them. If other students walked by, they would assume it was a closet. “Were you guys thinking about the hideout too?” Sloane muttered, half believing what her eyes told her.

“Yes! That must be what Professor Weasley meant!” Poppy exclaimed, clapping her hands. “It was a riddle of sorts, but this will be perfect! She must have been a sleuth when she was a student as well! A real female Sherlock Holmes!”

They shared a grin before Sloane braved reaching out to the door. They crowded behind her as she cracked it open inch by inch.

She pulled the door wider and wider, eyes catching on every detail of the hallway appearing before them. Once the door was completely open, the trio gasped.

“I know what this is!” Poppy yelped, pushing past the other two to sprint into the center of the room. “It’s the Room of Requirement!” She twirled, her skirt billowing out from her as she laughed, but paused staring off into one of the corridors. “Oh, hello. I didn’t realize a house elf would be in here.”

The door swung close behind Natty and Sloane. They moved swiftly to stand by Poppy’s side to meet this house elf, but any thoughts of trouble or punishment were banished when he waved. “Deek is happy to meet you. A dear friend of Deek’s said there would be students arriving, so Deek hurried over.”

The three witches exchanged a look, confirming that they all believed that Professor Weasley knew this house elf. Poppy was the first to speak up after the interaction. “I am Poppy, Deek. This is Sloane and Natty. We were hoping to use this as a hideout.”

“Poppy!” 

The witch in question shot Sloane a confused look.

“He might tell Professor Weasley what we’re doing.” Sloane explained.

The Hufflepuff rolled her eyes. “If she told you about this room, she probably already knew that you were up to something anyway. We might as well be honest with who she sent to help us.”

The star-lit haired witch looked to her roommate to only receive a shrug. With pursed lips, she nodded for Poppy to continue.

“We are looking for a home for a Fwooper, Augustus or Tus-Tus, that we got away from a poachers camp. Plus, a place to collect information and store it without anyone finding it.”

The blood drained from Deek’s face as his eyes drifted from young girl to the next. He shook his head with a small, but fond smile. “Deek sees why his dear friend told you about this place. Deek has many stories of the adventures they went on during their school time.”

Three pairs of eyes widened as pride for their Transfiguration professor grew. The house elf was extremely helpful, if not a little chatty, as he gave them a tour and explanation of the room. Well, rooms. It grew as each witch thought about something specific they might need.

Sloane was happy to learn that if they collected some moonstone in the Highlands, that it would make transfiguration even simpler. They would have to pool some money together to get the spellcrafts they needed, but if not, Sloane was sure that she could cook from up from researching in the library. If it went wrong, no one would know and the mess would be contained. 

Deek helped them configure changes to the room. There was a lot of empty space, but not for too long. They would have to wait until the next weekend to head to Hogsmeade together, but Deek had shown them the vivarium after Poppy asked where they should put Tus-Tus. It, of course, appeared as she asked, so the answer was a little obvious, but they couldn’t help running through the magical field. 

The room provided them with a small picnic for them, so they didn’t have to leave for dinner. They laid in the grass staring up at the beautiful cloudy sunset. “This is perfect,” Sloane murmured.

Poppy hummed her agreement. “No offense, Natty, but this is going to be so much more fun than watching Quidditch and playing magical games.”

“Yes, you’re quite right,” Natty sighed.

“How did you two even hear about the poachers in the first place?” Sloane blurted before either one of them could continue.

Poppy sat up, throwing a few grapes in her mouth and humming. “Well,” she said as she finished chewing, “We overheard some men in an alley as we were making our way out of town. We went to Officer Singer about how they were going to raid one of the Fwooper nests near Hogwarts, but we didn’t have anything concrete to give her. She said even if they did, the Ministry didn’t have the Aurors to spare to go after one poaching camp.”

“I couldn’t let it go.” Natty started after the Hufflepuff paused. “How could a whole nest of Fwoopers be so unimportant to the Ministry? I thought Minister Spavin was pushing for more widespread Aurors as of late! That’s when Poppy had the idea we should take care of them ourselves. All we needed to do was release the Fwoopers. We definitely need a better plan for the next camp.”

Sloane barked out a laugh. When silence carried on, she looked over to an apprehensive Poppy. “Oh, I wasn’t laughing at the plan or anything. We owe Tus-Tus our lives—”

“It’s not that!” she blurted, covering her face with her hands. “I’m so sorry, but I should have given more information before we did this! My parents were poachers! My housemates are right. That’s why they didn’t let me join the Magical Beasts Club this year. Or why I only have friends outside my house now. I never thought I would be able to help again. I’m so grateful for you two.”

Natty and Sloane sat up quickly, turning as Poppy sobbed through a few more sentences. The tears made them rather unintelligible. Natty drew her into a tight hug and Sloane took her hand, no words needed to be shared as they comforted her. 

The sunset bathed them in rosy and violet tones. For a long while, they sat with Natty’s cheek against Poppy’s head and Sloane squeezing her hand every so often.

It made her wonder if her mother had ever had relationships like this with other witches. She had a feeling that Slytherins had different protocols for their friendships, but she had never heard her mother mention her friends from her time at Hogwarts. Now that she’s thinking harder about it, the only thing her mother mentioned about her school days is how she met Sloane’s father.

As she watched Poppy relax into her housemate’s embrace, she vowed, that no matter what her mother says about the trio’s relationship, to never let this go.

Some time later, Deek found them splashing each other in the shallower parts of the river. He let them know that it was quite close to curfew and they should return to their dorms. 

The only prefect that caught them was Victoria, one of the nicer Slytherin seventh years. She wondered about their wet appearance, but they merely uttered, “Peeves” in unison, and they were set free. 

The Gryffindors separated from the Hufflepuff in Central Hall with one last group hug. They planned to move Tus-Tus after their Hogsmeade trip that coming weekend. Poppy knew someone that could give them some sort of bag to carry beasts unassumingly and they figured it was the safest way to transport him now.

As they neared their common room, Sloane whispered, “Natty, I’m sorry I didn’t try harder to become your friend last year.”

A small, but entirely too cheeky smirk appeared on the other witch’s face. “I probably wouldn’t have had that much time to spend with you. I had to catch up on a lot of wand movements last year.”

“I would have tutored you to trade for some tutoring in Charms. Maybe I could have gotten better.”

“No chance,” Natty teased as they crawled into a lively common room. Oggspire was doing some sort of routine over the fireplace, again. Blume was complaining about earning a detention already for trying to non-verbally stir her cauldron.

“Professor Sharp shouldn’t have been that angry! I only turned my Edurus potion into sludge. It stayed in my cauldron unlike some of Weasley’s concoctions.”

Garreth shot Blume a glare, but it had no heat. He and Leander waved as the pair made their way to the girls’ dorm. Sloane felt a little guilty for not studying with Leander, but he was engrossed in a game of Wizard’s Chess with Northcott. 

After flopping into her bed, it didn’t take long for Sloane to fall asleep with a smile on her lips.

Chapter Text

Sebastian

Being woken up by his wand before the rest of his house was starting to get old.

Even classes didn’t seem as interesting as they used to. He had bright spots when he was in class with Ominis—or Sloane—but that didn’t account for many of his classes. In between those times, he was either at Quidditch practice or pouring over some more textbooks. He made a show for Madam Scribner by, at the very least, spending at least some of his afternoon studying Charms in the library. It seemed to keep her from thinking that he was breaking into the library at night.

It was only partly a show. He found some interesting writings that would help him develop the glasses he needed. When Cressida Blume let loose her flying books one afternoon, he knew what his next step was.

His conversation with her made him wonder if she should’ve been put into Ravenclaw. She wasn’t phased by any of his charisma, but still didn’t need any convincing to discuss the type of charm she would use to make glasses that could read in the dark. She practically glowed from excitement as they exchanged views on the hypothetical charm. For her assistance with his charm, he helped her come up with a few solutions she could try out for her own charm adventures. 

He was making his way down the stairs when Sloane breathlessly ran up them. He made sure to wink as she passed, but she did an excellent impression of not noticing, but he saw her cheeks plain as day. He heard the beginnings of her offering to get her housemate’s books. He wanted to roll his eyes because Sloane was going to take ages to get those books, but assisting the Gryffindors wasn’t on his agenda.

About a week later from his conversation with Blume, Sebastian sat in The Undercroft with a few pairs of basic glasses in various states of enchanting. Even without the glasses he had been returning to the Restricted Section twice a week.

But he hadn’t gleaned any more information on specific objects that could help him. Since these were Merlin’s personal journals, the famous wizard didn’t leave many details about his creations. He wrote about his successes and failures in vague terms. Other than that, it sounded like he was quite the gossip, writing at length about his classmates, especially the children of the Four Founders.

If Sebastian was more into the history of Hogwarts, this would be wonderful information, but this was nowhere near what he needed.

Enchanting these pairs of glasses made him feel like he actually accomplished something instead of focusing on the failure of the Merlin Journals. He prayed the last journal would have some more insight or a clue on where he should look next.

He looked up at the time to see he still had a few more hours until Imelda would require them for pregame warm-ups. Hopefully, he could get the inscription correct in time to have an early dinner. 

Before he could test his latest combination, the gate to The Undercroft rattled, revealing Ominis. “Why am I not surprised this is where I would find you before your first game?”

Sebastian watched his friend meander over, standing a few feet away from him. Pale eyes swept over the room and before Ominis could guess what he was up to, he said, “I’m practicing some charms to help me read faster. It’ll help me get through more books in the library.”

His best friend’s face scrunched. “I thought you had given this up after Madam Scribner had to escort you back to the dorms.”

“I haven’t made any progress lately, so I need to do what I must to move forward.”

“So, you have been leaving the dorm late to visit the Restricted Section?”

“No,” Sebastian retorted firmly. He had been going to the Restricted Section early in the morning. Any of the prefects that had caught him in the library before breakfast had all made jokes about switching to Ravenclaw. He had learned that looking like a studious child instead of a mischievous one kept suspicion off him. He can’t believe he hadn’t thought of something so obvious before. 

Ominis didn’t seem to believe him. He took a moment to calm his breathing before asking, “Why aren’t you taking time before your game to spend with Anne?”

“I’ll see her during or after.”

“Will you sneak off to do more research after spending only a few moments with her?”

“Have you seen her?!” Sebastian snapped, finally turning his full attention to his friend. “She looks more like death every day! Why are you trying to make me stop?”

“I don’t have to see her to understand she isn’t feeling well. Instead of going on pointless chases, I’m spending time with her doing the things together. To create memories! You should be doing the same!”

Sebastian flinched at the sharpness and protectiveness of Ominis’ tone. He countered with a snarl. “I am helping fix this mistake! I haven’t given up like you and Uncle seemed to have!”

“No, Sebastian, we faced facts. We are doing what we can with the time we have left.”

“That’s a more pleasant way of saying the same thing.” He shook his head as disappointment filled his chest. He thought Ominis, of all people, would stay by his side in this until the bitter and dark end. 

“I understand wanting to keep hope. I know I did until I saw Anne…” he trailed off with an aggravated sigh. “We can’t do anything, so we should make her happy. Show her as much joy as we can.”

“I would rather have the joy of a cure!” 

Before Ominis could twist his words into something else or come up with one of his clever replies to tear away more of Sebastian’s resolve, he stomped out of their old haunt.

Lunch before his game would have to be enough. He needed an even larger distraction from everything than stupid engraving and charming. 

Other Slytherins steered clear of him as he chomped on his pile of food. If he had extra time, he would fill his stomach to the brim.

Thundering through the halls and down to the Quidditch pitch, his day turned even worse. Outside, being congratulated by a number of witches, was Johnathan Honeyduke. It seemed that Hufflepuff had tied with Gryffindor in their first bout. He didn’t feel like the girls needed to be fawning over him because of tied game, but Honeyduke had that air about him. Once he got closer, he recognized a flash of starlight. Sloane was on more of the outskirts of the group, still dressed in her Quidditch robes, but uninjured or dirty. 

She must not have played. He grumbled internally, slightly saddened. She deserved at least some in-game experience. As his eyes scoped the area, his gaze landed on Prewett. He shared a twisted, sour expression with the Slytherin. Honeyduke wasn’t especially quiet about his conquests around the other boys at The Three Broomsticks. He had only heard the bloody rake speak once and that was the last time Ominis and Sebastian made the mistake of celebrating a Hufflepuff win.

Instead of trying to get Sloane’s attention, like he desperately wanted to, he sulked to the dressing room. The benches might not be comfortable, but he could try to take a nap before everyone else arrived.

Nott and Yaxley practically broke down the door as they shuffled in, startling Sebastian awake. The three froze, momentarily confused by the scene they found themselves in.

Nott is the first to recover with a short laugh, “Trying to get on Miss Reyes’ good side?”

“Please, he’s too good to need that. Did you fight with Gaunt again?” Yaxley practically taunted, barely hiding a smirk.

When Sebastian didn’t answer and moved to his locker, the pair chuckled. His shoulders tensed, but the other Slytherins began chatting about inane things like classes instead of continuing their teasing. 

Balthazar Nott and William Yaxley were a year older than him. 

Nott was similar to Ominis in status. The Slytherin girls talked about his piercing blue eyes and his wavy chestnut hair. When he first joined the team he wanted to hate the popular pureblood, but Nott was his trainer and a damn good one at that. They weren’t friends outside the Quidditch Pitch, but that didn’t stop the older boy from goading Sebastian when he got the chance.

Yaxley was their Keeper. His family wasn’t as high in society as some of the other pureblood families, but that didn’t stop the boy from dreaming of a Quidditch career. He was similar to Honeyduke, but was less boastful, so girls constantly tried to ‘tame’ him. With his features similar to his brother in arms, Sebastian was jealous of the attention they both received. 

He scowled at his uniform. He was in a horrible mood. He could admit that. All of his frustrations came to a head in a matter of a few hours and his nap hadn’t even helped. 

Normally, this type of aggression helped focus him on the game, but Sloane’s smiling, desperate face kept popping into his head. It overshadowed the fight with Ominis. Not only did he have to worry about Prewett annoying the piss out of him, but Honeyduke now as well? 

Maybe I should have tried to talk to her. At least I could have upset Prewett a bit. Honeyduke wouldn’t even notice me. How could that Hufflepuff be so daft to not notice Sloane trying to speak to him?

“Sebastian.” 

He jumped, turning to find Nott giving him an amused grin. He looked around the dressing room, realizing that Yaxley was waiting at the door. He was also holding off an irritated Imelda Reyes, who was grumbling about tardiness.

“We can’t hold her off for much longer. Chin up, lad. I’m sure Gaunt will forgive you.”

With a huff, Sebastian fastened his bracers. “I know he will.” He gave the older Slytherin a strained smile that had him even more interested.

“So, it has something to do with someone else?”

“I swear! If you boys continue to fool around in there, I’ll have a professor make sure you’re on time from now on!” Reyes hollered past Yaxley. “Don’t roll your eyes at me! I am your captain.”

“Yes, darling Reyes, we know.” A charming smile graced Yaxley’s features as the other boys approached. “Look at that! They’re here. Only seconds after you asked. Don’t look so glum.” 

Sebastian caught Reyes throwing her hands up out of the corner of his eye. She stomped off onto the pitch to start warm-ups for the Chasers. 

“Well?” Nott bumped his shoulder against Sebastian’s. “Getting it out before a game will help you focus.”

Yaxley raised an eyebrow at his best friend’s curiosity in the younger wizard, but kept his comments to himself.

Sebastian pursed his lips, and shook his head. “I don’t know.” Instead of being interrogated by the others, he quickened his pace to the pitch.

The two older boys kept an eye on him. Even Lestrange, their equipment manager, noticed something off about him. He couldn’t seem to get his swings in order. He was either hitting the Bludger so wildly that at one point Reyes was almost hit while stretching or barely hitting it away from himself that he got hit in the stomach during warm-ups. 

Their pre-game routine flew by. One moment Nott was admonishing his swings to practically deaf ears and the next the Quaffle was thrown, whistle barely heard.

Ravenclaw wasn’t the greatest team in their league, but their Chasers were swift and slippery. He assumed it was because their Beaters weren’t that great, so they compensated. Yet, they were the most experienced team with most of their players in their sixth or seventh year and having played since their third years.

Sebastian’s distraction became apparent to the studious team. Their Chasers whizzed past him, their Beaters concentrating on keeping the Bludgers on their side of the pitch. It would be the Ravenclaw team that would turn a weakness into a strength. 

Nott tried desperately to get him to focus back on the game, but Sebastian couldn’t stop looking over the stands. Was Sloane in them or did she follow Honeyduke to Merlin knows where? Why him? He could understand infatuation with Weasley or Prewett because they had been friends for so long, but Honeyduke?

As the whistle for the game’s end rang through the pitch, Nott almost knocked Sebastian off his broom to block the last desperate attack of a Bludger. His head was full of fog, trying to piece together the game and his gratitude for the older player.

But Imelda Reyes had other ideas. She threw her broom to the ground, stalking over to him. She yanked on his uniform, bringing his face impossibly close to hers as the rest of the team watched in horror and amusement. “Whatever shite going on in tha’ empty head of yours, Sallow, needs ta end. I won’t be losin’ to those stupid birds again! I’ll kick ya off the team first! I’m sure Avery will be happy to take yer place!”

His eyes slowly widened, watching tears spring in his captain’s eyes. She pushed him, forcefully, and stomped off to the girls’ locker room. Each of the other girls followed suit with equally scathing glares. His shoulders slumped and he rubbed the back of his neck.

When he glanced at his fellow wizards, they gave him a disappointed, but fond smile. They traveled together to the locker room in silence. Then he slunk into his bed, ignoring any looks he received from his dorm or housemates. 

He needed sleep or a new brain. Whichever would keep him from seeing Reyes like that again. It wrenched his organs and pressed down on his chest. He couldn’t believe that he valued her opinion of him this much.

Sebastian sighed, covering his face with his sheets and began to devise ways to get Sloane Frazier off his mind.

Chapter Text

Sloane

Sloane hadn’t expected to play in their first game or second, but she had had a small nugget of hope. It was dashed the night before when her cousin announced positions for the game. She, at least, was going to be able to help with warm-ups and get some extra practice. Leander was beaming with pride as he checked brooms and spoke to Bradford. The two seemed to be developing a rather close kinship over the last few practices by discussing strategy. 

She couldn’t help the pride that swelled in her chest for her friend. He might be a troll on a broom, but he had an eye for small details. She found out that he went to Spintwitches, spending a day talking to Albie Weekes. He came back with notes on their brooms and flying techniques. Bradford was so impressed that he said he would implement some in their upcoming bout.

It helped them tie Hufflepuff, then win the next game against the badgers. With Slytherin celebrating their narrow win against Ravenclaw this weekend, she was able to slip into the dungeons unnoticed. Anne was waiting for her dutifully outside the familiar gates.

With barely a flick of her wrist, the lock fell to the ground. Sloane picked it up as the iron bars raised. With practiced hands, she slipped the lock back into place. In silence they made their way down the gloomy hallway.

Even in the softness of the ghostly flickering, their steps quickened. By the time they burst into the small ballroom they were both running and gasping. They twirled under enchanted candles and danced without rhythm in an empty, hollow space.

The Deathday Ballroom.

Anne was the mastermind behind finding this place. Her and Sebastian had gotten detention on a momentous day. It was Sir Patrick Delaney-Podmore’s death day. When they were leaving detention, the ghosts were floating through the gate to the celebration. Sebastian didn’t have much interest in the ghosts of Hogwarts, but his twin was completely enamored. 

A few days later, she was showing Sloane. It officially became their secret meeting spot.

After their initial revelry, they laid in the middle of the room, tops of their heads touching, and went about spilling all of the secrets they held onto. Sloane listened to Anne’s tale of horror and curses, in hopes that she would find the courage to tell her own story, but only ended up with emptiness in her chest.

She wanted to hug her best friend, but they had strict rules to follow in the ballroom. Until all of their tales are spun, they must stay where they lie. It was easier to speak when you didn’t have someone staring at you. There would be no judgment.

Sloane’s irritation at Sebastian flared to life as Anne spoke of his obsession with a cure. A mad fixation on correcting a mistake that wasn’t entirely his fault. They had both gone out regardless of their uncle’s warnings. Curiosity had gotten the best of them both, so his twin wished that he wouldn’t work himself to death over this. 

The Gryffindor understood hope in the most unlikely of places, but there were times to be practical as well. Anne made her vow that she would help Sebastian. She had no idea how she could curb his stubbornness, but she would try for her best friend. She could figure out the details later.

From Sloane’s mouth, her summer’s story slipped. It started with a stutter and nerves abound, but eventually grew into a confident recount. Anne was ecstatic for her confidence and new outlook. Anne teased her that if she became any more ambitious that people would think the Slytherin rubbed off on her.

“I just… don’t want to be someone’s wife. Every time we go to a party, rare as that is, they always announce my mother as Sir Frazier’s wife, Theophania or some other such flowery pretend title. That’s it. Nothing else to her name. It seems wrong to be known as someone else’s instead of yourself.” 

“I thought that’s how high society worked. You take a man’s last name after all.”

Sloane sighed, “I suppose that is true, but is the world truly so horrible and difficult that we need the protection of a husband?”

“I don’t know if it’s that terrible, but wouldn’t you want to live in luxury over hardship?”

“At the cost of giving some wizard children for the rest of my life? I don’t know.” She ran a hand through her hair before settling them back down on her stomach. “What wizard wouldn’t want to continue his bloodline? Especially a pureblood one.”

“Ominis.” 

It was a desperate whisper. One that Sloane had almost missed and was too tempted to sit up to question. “Anne, I don’t…” she trailed off, unable to decide whether to be practical or supportive.

“He promised me that we could travel.”

“I’m sorry, are you getting married?”

“No, no, but we might have talked about it.”

“What does Sebastian think?!”

Anne let out an echoing cackle. “You think I would tell him?” She continued for a moment longer before dissolving into quiet snickers. 

“Well, I know that the two of you… I didn’t realize you were courting that deeply?” She was untethered. She felt too young for this conversation. There was no experience behind her words. It felt like fumbling at best.

Anne was quiet. Candles idly floated above them, but Sloane wasn’t willing to interrupt her friend’s contemplation. “The curse changed things.”

“I suppose that’s rather expected, considering,” she said, lamely.

“Astute, Sloane,” Anne snorted, reaching around to clumsily pat her forehead. “I didn’t want to lose out on anything. If my time is short, I want to use it as well as I can. If that means confessing to Ominis and talking about fake futures, then so be it. I love him and he loves me.”

Contrary to Anne’s slight teasing, Sloane was rather observant. She had noticed the two grow closer over the summers and school years they spent together, but love seemed too permanent. If not a little far-fetched for a fifteen year-old. The Gryffindor witch ran her fingers through her hair again before asking, “How do you even know?”

“I just do.”

Sloane barely covered up her scoff with a cough. “Unhelpful.”

“Are you trying to figure out if you love someone?” she crooned.

“No, I’m not.” Her dry tone didn’t convince her friend. Several faces flashed behind her eyelids, but she didn’t want to investigate why. “Plenty of witches find their intended before they graduate, but usually in their seventh year. Are you sure you want to commit already?”

“I don’t know if I’ll make it. The curse seems to eat at my magic. The more I cast, the more frequent the episodes happen, but I don’t want to give up on magic. Even if it’s difficult to cast spells, I love it. I love being a witch, so this curse shouldn’t take that away from me.”

“Ominis is happy with this?”

“Oh, not at all. He’s doing better now, but he was wild when I first told him. I wrote him a letter explaining things, thinking that would be the best way. He showed up the next night, while Uncle and Sebastian were asleep, in the fanciest robes I’ve ever seen. I assume he was at a party of some sort. He demanded I tell him everything. His everything was about the curse and my everything was confessing how much I cared about him all these years.” Sloane held her breath at the Slytherin’s pause. “We spent the whole night talking. I can’t tell you when I realized I loved him, exactly, but it was during that night. He accepted our shortened time together. He wanted to make sure I was happy before… the end. If this would make me happy, he would gladly help. He even kissed me.”

“Anne!” Sloane laughed, scandalized. 

“Oh, please, I’m some country bumpkin, so no one cares about my virtue. Especially from a simple kiss. In all honesty, we’ve spent more time talking than kissing. I wish I had confessed earlier. I knew Ominis was a gentleman and a scholar, but his wealth of knowledge and conversation is otherworldly,” she breathed.

Sloane rolled her eyes at the notion. She wouldn’t let jealousy ruin her friend’s joy.

“The one positive of Sebastian’s research is that it leaves plenty of time for Ominis and I.” When the silence dragged on for a little too long, Sloane opened her mouth to comment, but Anne interrupted, “Speaking of Sebastian, what is going on with you two?”

She groaned. There was no doubt in her mind that Anne wore a sly grin at that dreadful segue. “There’s nothing going on between the two of us. Well, besides his irritating interest and lack of tact.”

“When did you stop having feelings for him then? You never told me you stopped loving him!”

“Anne, I never loved him. It was more of a summer fancy that lasted too long. Why should I hold onto a torch for someone who didn’t even realize I was there? He never defended me when some of the older Slytherins would tease me. I’m not looking for a knight regardless. I can defend myself now. I am stronger than I was before.”

“Because of the Ancient Magic?”

“And Professor Fig. He loves his wife even in death. They traveled and went on adventures together. Not with Professor Fig protecting her, but as partners. I won’t settle for any less now. I’m tired of being treated as precious because of my own fears. I may never become what my mother wants, but why sacrifice my happiness for that?”

“Well, who do you think can give you that life?”

Sloane paused. She had Jonathan Honeyduke’s name on her lips, ready to fall with utmost confidence, but it would be a lie. He was someone her mother would approve of. Regardless of how utterly handsome he is. “Maybe Garreth,” she settled on.

“Weasley? My, my, why not Prewett then?”

“Ugh, why are you trying to justify your brother to me?”

“I’m selfish and want you as my sister.”

She wanted to protest, bring up anything regarding the curse, but she didn’t want… It didn’t seem right. “You cannot think that highly of me if you wish to shackle me to him.”

Anne huffed, flopping her hands to the stone beneath them. “How is it shackling if I know he’ll give you the adventure you crave? Can you see him settling down?”

“Are you calling your brother a rake already?” she teased, wondering how to get away from this topic.

“No, I mean he’s like me in that. I don’t want to stay in Feldcroft or London or wherever forever. I want to see things and places and people. Sebastian is just as curious, if not more, so why wouldn’t he try to give you the sights?”

“He’s only noticed me now because of my hair and confidence. Everything my mother wants no one to notice.”

“So what? You can’t use your mother as an excuse as often as you do. He probably screwed his head on right for once to finally see you as incredible as you are. Plus, Uncle feels that you’ll keep him in line.”

“I think you want to share a wedding day and it’s too early for that.”

“Yes, yes, we’re only fifteen, but there are plenty of girls married at our age. I’m sure if you don’t start courting someone, Prewett is going to ask.”

“Don’t threaten me,” she laughed. “Let’s get back to our dorms. I’m sure we’re pushing curfew even for a Saturday.”

Their conversation drifted towards classes, but as they rounded the corner to the Slytherin common room, Sebastian and Ominis were stomping out in a huff. Both girls froze in their gazes.

“Where have you been? Why aren’t you in bed?” Sebastian’s voice rose to a shrill pitch. He turned on Sloane, pointing an accusatory finger. “What mischief were you getting into with her?”

Ominis placed a hand on his shoulder, muttering, “I’m sure they were safe. There’s no reason to be upset anymore.”

He gnashed his teeth, but slowly the anxious rage ebbed. He carded a hand through his hair. Sloane nearly coughed when she took in his outfit. She had seen something similar plenty of times during the summer holiday. What made the shadows of the Slytherin Dungeon remind her how different Sebastian was from her? He wore no vest or jacket, his shirt untucked and practically hanging open, showcasing why he’s an exceptional Quidditch player. Has he always been so much taller than me?

She shook herself, shooting the darkest glare her blushing face could summon at Anne. “This is your fault,” she snapped before stomping off to the closest staircase. Even if Jonathan Honeyduke wasn’t the right man for her to marry, it would help her ignore the shiver she got thinking about Sebastian in darkened corners of the castle.

Chapter Text

Sebastian

His wand seemed in a rather annoyed mood when it woke him up that morning, bashing him a few times before settling down. When he looked over to his nightstand, he understood.

Lying perfectly, as if it had always been there, was a scroll of deep sea green. Upon opening it, a familiar depiction of the Giant Squid swirled on the paper, pulling a ship under.

The Murky Depths. The official unsanctioned dueling club. 

This was a highly sought after invitation for students who wanted more combat practice than Defense Against the Dark Arts offered. Especially with curses and hexes. While the professors were out pretending that they didn’t know about Crossed Wands, a new club was formed from the champions. They met well after curfew, even for the seventh-years, and hid away in the boathouse. Once the first years gave up looking for the Giant Squid near the boathouse, the first round of invitations would be sent out.

Sebastian had been quite lucky and skilled, but mostly lucky, in his first year to get through Crossed Wands. Upon entering his second year, the first scroll appeared. He had originally thought that it was some sort of prank, but he couldn’t help his curiosity. It took him about three days to crack the charm on the parchment. It was also by luck that he got bread crumbs on it during breakfast that day to reveal the time and place.

Even on his way to the boathouse, which had been incredibly dark in the middle of the night, he hadn’t given up on his assumption this was a prank.

But as he pushed open the doors, his dreams came true.

###

As the day crawled by, the excitement for the night’s event kept him going. Even as Professor Barkwith droned on about the importance of the number nine in illusions. At one point, he even caught Thakkar yawning! 

Maybe Ravenclaws have Wednesday blues like the rest of us? He smirked to himself at his joke as Barkwith finished up with their assignments. 

With class dismissed, he hurried off to the Great Hall.

Lunch was a quick affair. He barely noticed any other students. He didn’t even wait for Ominis and Anne to finish up his meal. He needed all the extra time, so he could finish his homework for class tomorrow. As he was leaving, he glimpsed Sloane. He stumbled slightly, wanting to catch her eye for a wink, but she seemed equally determined to slip out of the Great Hall unnoticed by her two Gryffindor friends. 

Weasley threw him an easy smile, while Prewett pointedly searched harder in the Great Hall. Even if they had some common ground with the Honeyduke situation, he didn’t want to form any sort of kinship with the dolt. 

He sat in an empty Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom, finishing up his Charms essay. It was a rather short assignment since Professor Ronen hated reading essays just as much as he did assigning them, but he said the differences and similarities of the Aberto and Alohomora were important to commit to memory.

By the time he was punctuating his last few sentences, other students were filtering into the room. Ominis sat down beside him, muttering, “Where were you? Anne was a bit worried when she didn’t see you at lunch.”

“I was in here, getting some extra homework done. I wasn’t very hungry, so I only had a quick snack.”

“How oddly studious of you.”

Sebastian wanted to shoot a glare at him, but his best friend wasn’t wrong. “I’ll make sure to spend plenty of time with her this evening.” Not that Anne spent much time before bed anymore. 

As the school year continued its march forward, so did her curse. She wouldn’t speak about it because she didn’t want to dwell. She scolded Sebastian whenever he would ask her for her symptoms again. Ominis would always steer the conversation to something else before either twin became irate. 

Ominis released a tired sigh. “You better. Research shouldn’t take over your life.”

Thankfully, Hecat started her lecture, so he wouldn’t have to reply to the same line that Ominis had been drilling into the past few days. Silly, really, since he had stopped making so many frequent trips to the Restricted Section as of late. There were plenty of books available on Merlin outside of it.

He was hoping to find where the legendary wizard was while he wrote the restricted journals. He had an inkling that there might be more hidden away behind charms or puzzles. He could deal with the charms, but the puzzles might prove challenging but he didn’t have any special relationships with Ravenclaws.

Hecat interrupted his thoughts with a flourish, announcing, “As you age, though some of you may have already noticed, you will find some spells are easier for you to cast than others, but as we have seen in other demonstrations that doesn’t mean you shouldn’t use them. You’re wizards and witches of Hogwarts! You don’t have to be in Ravenclaw to use spells in inventive ways. Don’t let house lines hold you back. Explore everything you can! So in line with this, we will spend some time practicing Incendio . But do not dally! I would like a list of ten other ways you may use the spell than its intended purpose.”

He frowned slightly. He wasn’t completely in love with Incendio , but it was in his arsenal. It was a fire spell after all. The Slytherin hadn’t thought of too many ways to use it besides casting it as hot as possible to injure close enemies. He leaned over to Ominis’ list, but he covered it with an arm with practiced ease. 

Sebastian sighed, leaning back in his seat to see if the dragon skeleton would give him any insight. The longer he sat trying to think, the more he concentrated on everyone’s quills scratching against parchment. How am I the only one having difficulties with the assignment? He grumbled inwardly, searching for anyone, just anyone else, that was in the same boat as him.

He would like the record to show that he did try to keep his eyes away from Sloane. He chose to see what she was doing last and to his disappointment and glee she was scribbling away with her tongue barely peeking out between her lips. Her hair was tucked behind her ear. Fly-aways had started falling out of the bun she attempted to put her hair up into. He wondered if she noticed them tickling her temple or her—

Hecat cleared her throat besides him. His head snapped up, eyes widening. The older professor only raised an eyebrow and gestured down to his parchment. He sighed as she walked away. 

This assignment is going to be the death of me. How pathetic can I get? He rubbed his face and did his best to refocus on the parchment in front of him. He, of course, was last in turning in his parchment. Ominis was waiting for him outside the classroom as he was shown the wand movements to a new shielding spell. It was created using black fire, so it was almost too easy for the headache he went through with the assignment.

“You know, Mr. Sallow,” Hecate caught his attention before he left the room. “Daydreams do not have to bother you any longer if you act on them.”

His cheeks heated, but he shook his head. “I wasn’t daydreaming. I was only looking for inspiration to help with the assignment.”

When the professor merely smiled, he hurried from the room. Ominis gave him a rather amused look. He realized that his excuse was lackluster at best. He hadn’t truly been daydreaming about her. Just pondering how her hair… He swallowed thickly, cutting off his train of thought as his sister bounded over to them.

“There you are! Ominis, did you scold him about lunch?”

“Of course.” His best friend replied with the most dignified and bored drawl.

Regardless of tone, Anne looked pleased. “I hope you aren’t going to skip this meal as well?”

Sebastian rolled his eyes, gesturing for them to continue on without pestering him anymore.

Anne chatted about her day, going into the most minute details possible. He wanted to be more annoyed, but it seemed like today had been good for her overall. He would take a small victory when he could. Dinner continued with more explanations about his twin’s day. Ominis dutifully listened to every word while Sebastian took to nodding and “Mhm”-ing when prompted. 

With the school day over, all he had to do was bide his time. He made sure to be the last to bathe in hopes that when he snuck into the common room that all of his roommates would already be asleep. He would leave completely unnoticed. 

He slipped past Gregor and Victoria by casting a Disillusion Charm after he dressed. He probably hadn’t needed it since they were talking rather intently about something on one of the couches closest to the glass. The water feature near the stairs leading up and out of the common room covered the sound of his footsteps perfectly. He strode out without a hitch.

The number of prefects walking the halls had already begun to dwindle, but Sebastian wasn’t going to chance striding around visible. He suspected Scribner would have a fit since her suspicion was hard to shake. Even with all the time he spends in the library during normal hours.

As he made his way down the winding stone stairs he thought, Imelda would be so excited to hear that I was exercising outside of practice. 

At eleven o’clock he pushed through the dingy door to a lively atmosphere. The windows were already charmed. Even the opening out into the lake, causing it to have a shimmery film shutter in the wind. There were plenty of lanterns and a small fire pit to keep the area warm.

“Better late than never, aye?” Sheamus Jones quipped from his seat on one of the boats. He was a seventh-year Hufflepuff that was almost as arrogant as Honeyduke, but didn’t have the heritage or money to back him up.

“Oh, come off it, Jones. Don’t you remember sneaking around earlier curfews?” Bradford Hensley rolled his eyes. A sixth-year Gryffindor and Sloane’s cousin. “The only reason I bothered to show up early is because Sloane is the only one that volunteered to transfigure the dueling stage.”

Sebastian’s heart stuttered. Sloane was a Crossed Wands Champion? When? How had I not noticed? Oh, bloody hell. He cursed when she stood from her spot on the ground. Her hair was braided out of her face, showcasing her scar and her brilliant eyes. Her clothes were form fitted. She even wore trousers that he had never seen at school. How could I have forgotten her curves? Had the summer addled my brain? I still haven’t even asked her about the bloody troll!

“Well, at least she’ll be good at something. I can’t see how that little creature was able to win the spring tournament last year. Then to have the audacity to skip until this year!” Joseph Flint snickered with another sixth-year Slytherin. Both were purebloods, but it didn’t seem like they were on Sloane’s marriage market if she was appearing tonight.

Murky Depths was normally populated by male students since dueling wasn’t a ladies’ sport, oddly enough. If their virtue had been tarnished, for example, their brother or father would enter a duel for them. Yet another similarity they had with Muggles.

“Well, why don’t I face you first, Flint? I can show you what I’ve learned over the summer.” She held up her nose with a smirk. The confidence that oozed off her was… absolutely, gorgeous. 

Flint looked completely taken aback. 

When she put a hand on her hip and bent forward, the older Slytherin’s face began to heat up. “Nervous?” 

“I won’t put up with this scandalous and ridiculous display. Your mother may have lost favor with the rest of the proper families, but I figured she would have taught her daughter better. I will not duel a girl.”

For a moment, Sebastian thought that would have done Sloane in. Her cheeks were flushed and her hands, fists at her side. Yet, her eyes swept across the crowd of students. 

Some of the boys stared down at their feet while others raised challenging eyebrows. 

Just as he was about to volunteer himself, her stormy eyes landed on him. “I believe you owe me a proper duel.”

There was no room for argument in her tone, but Sebastian wouldn’t deny her. He could prove not only that he was worth Sloane’s time, but that she was to be reckoned with.

Previous shock gave way to a tempting smirk. “I think you’re quite right, Frazier.”

He heard some haughty scoffs behind him, but none outright tried to stop them. Hensley beamed with approval as he took place to call the match. The rest began chatting amongst themselves, expecting Sebastian to keep this short.

Sebastian was nearly distracted by her determination again. Her stance had changed from their first class back together. She bounced in place for a moment, then held her wand aloft, but close. Her eyes flickered from him to her cousin. 

“Ready?” Both nodded and strode to the center of the platform. Back to back, Hensley paused to say, “Remember the rules. No Unforgivables, no grievous harm. If your wand is knocked out of your hands for more than three seconds or you’re knocked off the platform, you’re out.” They nodded again. “Excellent, take your paces and on my mark you can begin.”

A shiver ran down his back. He couldn’t tell if it was his own or Sloane’s. They were both excited as they counted their paces away from each other. 

“Begin!”

As Sebastian swung around to cast a quick Confringo , Sloane had other plans. He caught a glimpse of her smirk as she shouted, “ Expelliarmus !”

He easily threw up Protego without a second thought. He gave her an unimpressed frown.

“Well, the last time you went so easy on me, I thought this would be over just as quick.”

Some of the boys snickered behind him, muttering about “endurance” and “cheeky girl”. He straightened, frown deepening into a grimace. “I told you that was a mistake. I will always learn from them.”

Her smirk took on a different tone. He pondered, perhaps, pride? Or was she impressed? The only thing he knew for certain was he needed to see it more often.

“Excellent. Now, let's see if you’re as good as your sister boasts.” She threw three rapid basic casts at his feet, causing him to jump back with a glare. She swished her wand, snapping, “ Muto !”

His shoelaces tangled, forming one string! 

Before she could throw more basic casts at him, he quickly cast, “ Incendio !” Flames spilled out from his feet, catching his shoelaces on fire, but breaking them apart. His shoes were a bit loose, yet that was easier to maneuver in than only one lace.

Clarux was met with a Fumos from Sebastian, rendering the light spell ineffective through the thick smoke. Their onlookers began coughing as it drifted back, but he wouldn’t miss such a golden opportunity. 

“ Confringo !” He bellowed again and again, watching them ping off a wall of some sort. When he advanced through the smoke, he was met with a towering wall of crumbling ice. He saw Sloane’s distorted form, circling her wand above her head.

Wind screeched behind him, but he cast his curse again and again. He was making progress at destroying the barrier, but the gale continued to pick up. In another moment, he couldn’t hear a thing. The barrier continued to break, pulling more of the crumbling pieces towards Sloane. Around her, they swirled faster and faster.

His eyes widened, admonishing himself for being so shocked that she already knew a seventh-year Transfiguration incantation. 

He needed to break the barrier or or somehow distract her from finishing casting!

“ Aguamenti !” He pointed his wand upward, shooting the water straight at the ceiling. It ricocheted straight down onto Sloane. At first she was able to keep casting, wind building high to try and push the water off her, but her determination fueled his ambition. 

He couldn’t lose to her again! He was a bloody idiot for doing it in the first place. She looked stunning as her hair rose around her head. Her eyes crackled and blazed through the torrent of water. He grit his teeth, pouring more magic into his spell until she began coughing and sputtering.

The wind slowed, ice fell into the water next to them. She looked utterly furious when she wiped the excess water from her face.

They continued on, trading charm for spell. His heart rammed into his rib cage. This was completely different from when he practiced with Ominis. That was utterly predictable and methodical. He hadn’t underestimated her for a second time, though she continued to mystify him.

Where had this woman been? He remembered so many times that the other Slytherin boys would tease her for her cowardly hiding behind the red heads. Was this what had been waiting underneath? This confidence and raw talent bottled up because of convention? Why would high society shy away from such brilliance?

“Enough!” Hensley boomed.

Sloane blinked, cheeks blazing. Her hair was completely disheveled, her braid barely in place. Her pants came out in small clouds due to her particular love of ice magics.

Sebastian wasn’t much better. He was sweating head to toe, having had to cast plenty of Incendios to keep Sloane’s ice from tripping him up too much or holding him in place. Hair stuck to his face. He turned to Hensley, snapping, “Why are you stopping us? We aren’t finished!”

“It’s been almost thirty minutes. The rest of us would like a turn on the platform.” Her cousin did his best to sound annoyed, but his eyes shone in astonishment. His shoulders were straightened, but he didn’t betray any other excitement. “It’s a tie. Leave the platform, you two.”

Sloane scowled, but said nothing. She hopped off into a corner of the boathouse to let the older Slytherin’s take their spots. None of the other boys seemed interested in talking to her. They huddled near the firepit, muttering.

Sebastian rolled his eyes. If their pride is so easily hurt, maybe they shouldn’t come to the Murky Depths. He strode over to her, only to realize she was soaking. He knew he cast the spell, but it hadn’t registered how light of a blouse she wore. He swallowed. “Ah, do you need help with a warming charm?”

She nodded, keeping herself turned away from him. He cast a silent Syqua , drying her clothes and warming her in tandem. She wiggled her fingers, checking her clothes before she turned to face him. “I expected you to be here, but it seems like you had no idea about me. Did Anne not tell you?”

“No, but I can’t say I’m surprised with how much you’ve changed this year.”

“Yes, yes.” She waved a dismissive hand, before straining to smile. “Thank you, though. You didn’t have to accept.” Her eyes flickered from him to the duel in front of them.

Flint didn’t seem to be faring well, glancing over to their side. Sebastian rolled his eyes. Some have no tact it seems. He turned back to Sloane, finally a natural smile finding its way to his face. “Of course. I’m sure Anne would have killed me if I hadn’t. I haven’t had that much fun dueling someone in quite some time. Most opponents never attempt Transfiguration.”

“It didn’t work out for me in the end,” she grumbled. “I had to rely more on ice spells and Protego .”

“I think you merely need more practice. If anyone is going to shorten a Transfiguration enchantment, it’ll be you.”

Her lips quirked upward. “Wow, I think that was almost a genuine compliment.” She eyed him out of the corner of her eye, snickering when Flint flew into the water. “You didn’t even fumble this time.”

Sebastian blinked, recalling his previous anxiousness around her had not appeared. He grinned. “I can shower you in more, if you wish?”

Sloane snorted. “You want to push your luck? If you keep doing this it's only going to fuel Anne’s delusions about you being interested in me.”

“Sebastian!” Hensley called. “You want another go? Perhaps against Jones or myself?”

He nodded automatically. His thoughts in shambles. Sloane’s teasing and lilting tone echoed and bounced in his skull. Jones easily knocked his wand out of his hand with a haughty smirk. He didn’t even care, he wanted to speak to Sloane more. Not about how she thought he wasn’t…

If he wanted to correct her, does that mean Ominis was right?

Had the obsession with learning the truth about the troll turned into something else or had this been simmering? The troll, barely an excuse?

Sadly, as he hopped off the dueling stage, Sloane was chatting with Leonardo Brattleby. The organizer of this whole thing. She looked ecstatic and Sebastian didn’t feel confident enough to interrupt.

Sloane had a bout with her cousin and Brattleby, but no one else would take her up on her offers. She didn’t seem too upset, but she hardly paid any more attention to him.

It left a hollow ache in his chest.

Chapter Text

Sloane

“It seems that you have been quite busy while I was gone!” Professor Fig grinned as he took another biscuit. 

Sloane grinned as she sipped her tea. “Well, you were the one that told me not to neglect my studies.”

He admonished with an amused frown, “That did not mean going after the poachers in the area.”

“I understand that, but I wasn’t going to leave my friends to do it on their own. There’s something else going on with these poachers. There’s so many so suddenly. I know Hogwarts is a hotspot for magical creatures, but with this many around, they’re going to clear sections of the forest in no time. For what?”

Silence fell as they sipped tea and nibbled on biscuits. Possibilities and mysteries practically floated above their heads. 

Until Headmaster Black interrupted their quiet morning. “Fig!” he snapped, flinging the door open. He barely spared a glance over at Sloane. “The Ministry has more questions about Osric.”

Sloane caught the twitch of her mentor’s jaw as he stood. “I don’t know how. I’ve been rather forthcoming with every bit of detail I could be.”

“It seems they have been unable to locate Taylor to corroborate your ridiculous dragon story.”

That stunned Professor Fig mute. He cast one more glance over at Sloane, but she couldn’t decipher if he was more anxious or annoyed.

The Gryffindor slumped into her seat when they exited. Madam Scribner would be out for the next foreseeable future visiting an ailing family member, so she and Professor Fig were going to sneak into the Restricted Section finally .

“I cannot believe him! Once again foiled by Headmaster Black and the bloody Ministry of Magic!” she cried to Natty and Poppy.

Sloane had stomped all the way to the Astronomy tower to inform the two. They had been in the middle of their daily routine of feeding and cleaning their ever growing vivarium. They had rescued a rather rambunctious Niffler and a shy, blue Fwopper. The Niffler, now Cooper, fit in just fine. Deek isn’t particularly a fan, but they promised that he wouldn’t be able to touch Deek’s things.

On the other hand, the blue Fwopper was still unnamed because Poppy didn’t know its personality well enough.

Natty looked up from the book she had been reading up until her fellow Gryffindor stormed around the corner and began ranting. “You just have to be patient. I’m sure the Headmaster will be done bothering him soon.”

“But Natty! It’s been weeks. I need to search the Restricted Section!”

The two other girls exchanged a look from their seats on the bench. Natty closed her book, while Poppy turned to face Sloane. “The three of us shouldn’t be seen too often together. They might start to suspect our extracurricular activities.” The Hufflepuff looked down at Sloane’s feet. “If any of the Professors found out what we’re doing, they’ll definitely put a stop to it. They’ll say leave it up to Officer Signer as if she doesn’t already have enough on her plate with Rookwood’s Ashwinders.”

Sloane opened her mouth to debate that not all professors would stop them, but then they would ask further questions. They had kept any questions about her desperation to search the Restricted Section to themselves. She huffed, “Fine. I’ll ask someone else. I’m sure there’s other students that want into the Restricted Section.”

Sloane spent the rest of the day sulking, to put it lightly. She had no idea how they could correlate getting caught in the Restricted Section and other professors finding out about their anti-poaching activities.

Yet, the next morning she ran into her solution. A Ravenclaw has to be dying to get into the Restricted Section of the library!

“Amit!” Sloane drawled, saddling up next to him as they both exited the Great Hall from breakfast. “I was just thinking about you.”

“Oh, hello, Sloane.” He stumbled over her name, a blush appearing as he smoothed out his robes. “What were you thinking about?”

“Breaking into the Restricted Section while Madam Scribner is away.”

She had never seen someone’s eyes almost pop out of their sockets before. Amit shook his head, squeezing his eyelids tightly. “No, no. This is a prank. You’re pulling a prank because we have become such good friends after croquet.” 

She hummed, “Partially right.” Her grin must have frightened the poor wizard because he scurried off towards his morning class. “Oh, Amit, please. You have to be wondering what’s in the Restricted Section!”

“Hush!” he grumbled as a few students looked their way at her raised voice. He glared at her as he stated, “I would never break any rules in the search for knowledge. It goes against everything Ravenclaw stands for. The Restricted Section is restricted for a reason. You shouldn’t go breaking in! You’ll lose so many house points that way.”

Sloane huffed, giving him a few seconds of a disappointed glare, but it was no match for his stout determination. Especially when Sebastian appeared from around the corner. He flashed her a smirk, that she barely caught over Amit’s shoulder, causing her to retreat.

That night, she fell into one of the common room’s chairs. No other Ravenclaw would give her the time of day. And, she would never admit this out loud, she was distracted by Sebastian again.

Originally, she had thought it was gratefulness that kept her mind on him. In The Murky Depths, he had treated her like an equal without question. She had expected him to make a similar mistake that he had when they first arrived back at Hogwarts, but she had fun. It was exhilarating! She trusted him not to hurt her, so throwing spells back and forth didn’t have the same anxiety as fighting poachers. It was a different type of insight. A new experience.

“Sloane!” Leander called from the entrance, bounding over to her with Garreth right behind him. “Why do you look like you’ve eaten a lemon?” He flopped unceremoniously into the couch opposite of her.

Garreth took his seat next to Leander in a much more dignified manner, but wore an amused grin that said he knew too much.

She decided on rolling her eyes with a small scoff. She would never be able to hide her moods completely from Garreth, but Leander was always easier to throw off. “Oh, just trying to find the will to do my Charms homework.”

The taller redhead snorted a laugh, “Oh, that makes sense. Well, what have you been up to? You haven’t been around the common room as often lately.”

She opened her mouth to answer with some lies, but realized as she looked at the two boys across from her that she had found another solution. “Actually, I think there’s something you can help me with.” She grinned regardless of the befuddled frown on Leander’s face or Garreth’s curious raised eyebrow. “I need to get into the Restricted Section of the library.”

“What?” Leander’s head tilted as he regarded her. 

Garreth merely leaned back in his seat, saying naught.

She repeated her request, only to be met with more questions from Leander. Eventually she got so annoyed with them that she threw her hands up and stalked away. It was beginning to look like she was going to have to wait for Headmaster Black to be done with Professor Fig. And that might take until Christmas, an eternity away.

The next day at breakfast, Garreth gave her a disapproving look, but didn’t bring up the conversation from the previous night. 

During Beasts class, she could hardly pay attention. Poppy had to carry her through a lesson on Diricawl. She almost stepped on poor Jefferies while she was running through possible accomplices.

She couldn’t pick a random boy. Sadly, her mother would be right in this situation. He would most likely be thinking she wanted something much more scandalous than finding a hidden book in the Restricted Section. And she wouldn’t trust a random girl either with this level of a secret. She already had too many with Natty and Poppy. And they didn’t even know about the Ancient Magic she was searching for.

Maybe I should tell them. They should know sooner rather than later. It might even convince them to go with me? She thought as she picked at her lunch. She had caught a glimpse of Jonathan walking into the Great Hall, but even he wasn’t distracting enough. But Professor Fig says we shouldn’t widen our circle too far or otherwise someone who isn’t meant to know will find out.

Once Garreth and Leander arrived at the table, her mind idly tracked Leander’s complaints about her recent secrets. She didn’t pay any heed, brushing it off as lady things. Neither of them believed her no matter how adamant she was. 

Anne was easily able to distract her in Transfiguration, but she couldn’t bring herself to ask her best friend to join. The other girl looked completely exhausted, but kept a smile on her face as they walked together to supper. 

The brunette found a small burst of energy as she bound over to the Slytherin table to sit beside Ominis. She leaned her head on his shoulder for a brief moment, but Sloane became distracted by her twin.

A sly grin reached across his face when she locked eyes with him. Her heart betrayed her, sending a fluttering through her stomach. She wanted to march over to him to ask what he was so excited about, but she feared he would say something clever or compliment her again. He was getting over whatever mess had kept him from talking earlier this month. 

I’ve moved on. He is a childish, lost crush.

Sloane jumped when a hand landed on her shoulder. When she whirled around, Natty stood behind her with a raised eyebrow. 

With a slight shake of her head, she laughed, “You’re not usually one for getting lost in thought that deeply. Did Sallow already talk to you?”

“What? No, what do you mean?”

Natty tugged on her sleeve, pulling her closer to the Gryffindor table and away from listening ears. “I think he is your solution to the library issue.”

“No,” she scoffed. “There’s no way I’m asking him.”

“He was complaining to Avery that Peeves had caught him trying to sneak into the Restricted Section. He got away with it because Madam Scribner is away. He was already talking about going again.”

Sloane chewed on her bottom lip. As much as he had been a pain, she had a level of trust with him. He was Anne’s twin after all. He had ignored her for most of his life, so he wouldn’t get any ridiculous ideas about the dark corridors. If he had his own reasons for going, then he would leave her to her own devices without questioning her. He was also so much better at Charms than she was, so there was a high possibility that he could Disillusion them both.

Natty sat silently as Sloane mulled over her proposal. Between bites she tried to find the courage to go over to him, but she would have to find him alone. Anne would want to go with and Ominis would try to stop them.

Finally, as the other girls were tucking themselves into bed, she decided that she would send him an owl. No one would suspect her and it was an easy way to keep it away from the other two Slytherins. When she closed her eyes to sleep, her dreams drifted from Ancient Magic to Sebastian’s face as they dueled.

Chapter Text

Sebastian

Ominis was, for all intents and purposes, ignoring him. He assumed that it was a new way to discourage him from continuing his research. It all started a day or two after Murky Depths, since he had still been trying to get his thoughts in order about Sloane. Ominis had caught him with a rather pathetic rendition of a map, but when Sebastian hesitantly answered about its meaning, that was all his best friend needed.

He felt silly for being embarrassed about the map. It was only of the various Merlin Trials around Hogwarts and the surrounding area. This hardly sounded like research into curses. More like a complete derailment of his mind into the depths of Merlin’s work. There was a tug towards this. He had no idea if it was instinct or magic or a combination. Maybe the journals had cursed him in some way and this was the reckoning he deserved.

“Sebastian?” Sloane whispered, tapping his shoulder.

He jolted, her unamused expression told him that this wasn’t the first time she had called out to him. “Sorry, I didn’t notice you arriving.”

“I see that.”

He pursed his lips, pushing down any other embarrassment seeking his cheeks. “I apologize for being distracted. It’s not every day a lady asks to have someone break the rules with her.”

“Are you having second thoughts?” She crouched down next to him with a scowl and crossed arms.

Her hair was getting longer. He wished he didn’t notice, but it was almost brushing her shoulders now. There was a freckle near her collarbone. 

He grit his teeth, breaking up his thoughts to concentrate on the task at hand. “No, I’m excited.”

Her lips slowly widened, revealing a charming smirk that had him swallowing thickly as she answered, “So am I. I’ve been waiting to get in this stupid Restricted Section for weeks.”

“Weeks? You should have asked me sooner,” he chuckled, breathlessly. 

Sebastian had hoped for an eyeroll or a scoff, but Sloane frowned, eyeing him with more curiosity than he liked. “How many times have you broken in then?”

“Enough to get us past the prefects, yes? Now, hold still while I cast the charm,” he muttered, trying to cover up how invasive her stare felt. They had known each other for many years, but not close enough for her to read him with that sort of familiarity.

With barely a ‘whoosh’ their forms melted into the stone of the Central Hall staircase. He barely heard her footsteps as she rushed down the stairs. He almost tripped in his haste to follow her. 

When they reached the fountain, he was finally close enough to tug on her sleeve. “What are you doing?” he snapped. “They’ll catch you if you go running like that.”

“The best way to use disillusionment is to keep going. It’s a trick of the light charm for a reason.” 

His head tilted slightly at the notion, something gnawing at him. “You’re horrible at Charms.”

“Why are you bringing it up now?” 

“Who told you the best way to use it is to keep moving? Have you been practicing?”

“I don’t think that’s important right now. I thought it was rude to answer a question with another?”

Sebastian heard her shift closer to the edge of the fountain. Do I assume she’s practicing Charms outside of class? If so, why wouldn’t she take this opportunity to try again? Unless this is something too important for her to rely on shoddy charms. Who is casting Disillusionment on her if not me?

Before he could ponder through any more jealous thoughts, Sloane was on the move again after shooting a painting off the wall. Prefects scurried about the hall and away from the library. He barely made it into the library before the door slammed in his face. 

“Are you always this slow when you sneak around?” He assumed she raised an eyebrow from her tone, but before he could come up with a sly remark someone else spoke up.

“Hello? Genevie is that you?” Madam Scribner called from her desk.

Sebastian’s heart stuttered, grabbing a hold of Sloane’s wrist he dragged her to the closest stack of books as the library rounded the corner.

“Peeves, if this is you again, I do not have the patience tonight. I’m rather tired,” the librarian grumbled.

“Bloody…” Sloane trailed off, tugging her hand away from his as she stared out into the library. “She was supposed to be gone for another few days.”

Another twinge.

“Why are you tracking Madam Scribner’s whereabouts?”

“I wasn’t, but don’t you when you sneak in here?”

He shook his head, pushing those thoughts away because now wasn’t the time. “You go grab her key in the top drawer and I’ll distract her. We’ll meet at the gates.”

There was a short moment of silence, then Sloane was on her way. He kept his movements precise and quiet. While he crossed the middle of the library, he flicked his wand at a rather large stack of books. They toppled over with quite a racket, causing Madam Scribner to leave her desk and complain more about Peeves.

He waited only moments before Sloane arrived with the key. She didn’t hesitate reaching for the lock. He reached out to pause her until Madam Scribner disappeared back to her desk. 

She let out an annoyed sigh, but waited. She pocketed the key after taking her first steps into the Restricted Section. He could barely see her outline in the darkness, but he didn’t dare drop Disillusionment until they were down a level. She moved slowly, giving herself time to be in awe unlike Sebastian had let himself. He couldn’t help the smile as he wondered what her smile would look like. 

When she reached out for a particular book, he snatched her wrist again. “Not that one. It’s charmed to look enticing, but its contents are utter madness.”

“Experience from when you first started looking for a cure for Anne?”

Sloane took a few steps away from him before it all registered. “What did you say?” he snarled, louder than he should have.

She had the gall to continue walking down the stairs. He stomped after her, forgetting the fact that Madam Scribner still hadn’t left. Once his head ducked under the floor he removed Disillusionment. Sloane continued walking as if nothing was amiss. Before she could get any farther from him, he grabbed ahold of her wrist for the third time and pushed her into a corner.

Anger boiled under his skin as he looked down at her. Was it Ominis who told her? Is he trying to get her to distract me from my mission? Is this all just a ruse?

“How did you find out about the curse?”

Regardless of his intimidation tactics, her eyes met his with stormy wrath as she retorted,  “Anne did, you bloody idiot. She’s my best friend.”

His lips twitched from a furious snarl to a disbelieving half smile and back again. “It’s Sallow business. None of yours.”

“Oh?” she muttered, slowly pushing away from the corner. She inched closer to him with the stillness and inquisitiveness of a Kneazle. “She’s a dear friend and I don’t think you can get in my way if I wish to help her. Or you.”

The realization of their closeness hit Sebastian like the armored troll’s club. Her scar was pink in its center, healing from whatever horrible thing struck her. Her eyes crackled with the same magic he had seen before, but it didn’t frightened him like it probably should. Her hair shimmered in the darkened lamp light. All he wanted to do was run his fingers through it. Does it feel like silk or starlight?

Then reality settled as a pit in his stomach. He stepped away, shaking his head. Shaking loose all the inappropriate thoughts that clouded his better judgment. She just said it! She’s Anne’s best friend! Regardless of these… these thoughts, especially without talking about them. I need to focus.

“What book are you looking for anyway?” he muttered, trying to find more strength to control his flash of anger. He shouldn’t be upset with her for knowing about his search. He should refocus on what they were actually there to do. Worry about talking about the curse with her later.

She stayed in the corner for a moment longer than he would have wished, but strode past him as she said, “I’ll know it when I see it.”

“How?”

“I have my own secrets, Sebastian. It seems that I’m better at keeping them than you.”

“You don’t trust me?”

Sloane paused for a moment, near the stairs leading farther into the lower limits of the library. “Have you given me a reason to yet?”

“We’ve known each other for years!”

“Have we?” She took a step down, hurt flashing across her features, but it was gone in an instant. “You’ve barely paid any attention to me until this year. Just like all the other boys from the various houses. I hear them whispering about me. I feel their stares, just like yours. I needed into the Restricted Section and Natty suggested you. The difference between you and the other boys is merely your sister and Natty overhearing you.”

“Please, there are many more reasons why I am nothing like the rest of the idiots here!” he barked, but his heart clenched at the admission. Did she understand how interested he truly was? How often he thought of her? How she was somehow always in his line of sight?

“Yes, yes, you’re excellent at charms as well. I’m sorry I forgot to add a compliment,” she grumbled, almost disappearing down the stairs.

“Stop walking away from me.”

“What do you want me to say, Sebastian?” She twirled, scowl marring her face instead of the smile he wished for. “As much as it pains me to say this, I used to have feelings for you. As soon as I met you, I wanted to know everything. I wanted to know what it was like to be in the fields, to go swimming, to run without worry of propriety. I was so caught up in it that I was almost able to ignore the fact you completely ignored me for all those years. Almost. Now that I’ve moved on and started making something of myself besides some silly girl, you notice? Stop this. I don’t have time for fake charm and rakish behavior. I want to find a cure for Anne as much as you do, so whatever ridiculous fascination you’ve concocted in your head, get rid of it. It won’t help either of us.”

He stood dumbstruck as she raised her wand to cast. He had no thoughts. Everything had turned to ringing. Did he seem that fake to her? He never wanted her to think this was... This felt different than mere fascination.

“ Reparo. ”

“Who have we here!” Peeves rose out of the remains of the suit of armor on the floor. 

The pair groaned. 

“Sebastian Sallow and his new little friend, out exploring where they shouldn’t be! Naughty! Naughty! You’ll get caughty!” 

As Peeves began to float away, Sebastian took one last look at Sloane. Her mouth was open, ready to stop him, but he waved her off. He sprinted after the poltergeist.

He had to think of a good excuse to give their esteemed librarian. Or, well, he did have one more thing up his sleeve. By the time he made it out of the Restricted Section, Peeves was spilling everything to Madam Scribner. She stood with one of the most gut wrenching disappointed scowls he had seen as of late.

“Sebastian, I thought we were done with this mischief.” Her quiet resignation made him stand a little straighter. “I don’t think detentions will be enough. You’ve brought someone else this time! But!” She paused, taking a step closer. “If they coerced you…” She trailed off.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Peeves twirl and look back to the Restricted Section. With barely a flick of his wrist, he cast a silent Partis Moria . 

Madam Scribner blinked a few times, and he took his chance to steer her train of thought. “I completely understand the week’s worth of detentions. I’ll be here every lunch period to restock the books. I couldn’t help myself, but try one more time. I am sorry.”

Peeves gave Sebastian an odd look, then turned to Madam Scribner when she nodded. “And an essay on why seeking the Restricted Section is only going to cause a bright boy like you trouble.”

Sebastian pointedly ignored Peeves as he blew a raspberry at him. Thankfully, the poltergeist hadn’t seen, so even if he noticed something was off, he had no proof.

As he exited, Madam Scribner called to him once more. “And fifty points from Slytherin!”

He nodded as Victoria stomped over to him. She didn’t say a word to him as she led him back to their common room. Regardless of the glares he got from some of the older students still awake, he felt no shame as he slipped into his room.

Sloane said that she couldn’t trust him since he acted so much like the other boys interested in her. She knew about his sister’s curse. And now she was in his debt for keeping her presence a secret from Scribner.

Even if she wanted him to leave her alone, he had plenty of reasons to stick around.

Chapter Text

Sloane

“So, did you hear that Yaxley asked Reyes, and she had the audacity to reject him!” A seventh-year whispered to their friend as they moved around Sloane on their way into the Great Hall.

She always got starstruck when the Great Hall transformed. It didn’t matter what season or special occasion. It always brings a mixture of awe and nostalgia.

Like all other years before, Sloane focused on her mask and costume for the yearly masquerade ball. What witch didn’t? 

This year, something else stirred within her. A small wish. A want. 

Jonathan Honeyduke sat at the edge of the Hufflepuff table, regaling his housemates with his tales of Quidditch. Gryffindor had beat them in the latest installment, but he seemed as confident as ever. His eyes brightened in the light of the pumpkin lanterns. A grin wide across his face. He took her breath away.

Even if the thought reminded her of the Restricted Section with Sebastian. He had pressed so close to her, but he dared think she could be frightened like any other girl! 

He doesn’t deserve to be in her thoughts.

My costume is impeccable. She screamed to herself as she sat down, pushing away any thoughts of brown eyes that weren’t Jonathon’s. She shoveled food onto her plate, completely distracted by her inner monologue. 

The rest of her day was much of the same. The only time she didn’t have to wrangle her thoughts was when Transfiguration ended and Anne bounded over to her.

“I need your help.”

“Oh? A Sallow twin needs my help?”

“Wipe that smirk off your face,” Anne huffed, linking arms with her to steer their strides into the courtyard. “My uncle has sent me the most hideous dress I have ever seen. Ominis and Sebastian will tease me the whole night. I need your expertise in Transfiguration. I want to dance with Ominis and in that thing, he’ll never ask.”

“What do I get in return?” They sat down on one of the ledges of the dragon fountain. 

Anne took a moment, tapping her chin with her finger before a feline grin spread across her face. “How about I help you with Honeyduke?”

“What?” Sloane stuttered through, glancing around the area to see if anyone had heard. “There’s no chance that he’ll notice me.”

“Well, why don’t you ask Esmeralda if you can trade places with her in the game before the Ball? You could catch his eye that way.”

“I don’t know if I’m that goo—”

“Sloane! There you are!” Leander took wide strides to close the distance from the Transfiguration corridor closer to the castle. “I thought you had already gone to eat. What are you two up to?”

The Gryffindor witch tried to beat her Slytherin friend to the punch, but Anne was much wittier than she. “We were discussing a pickup Quidditch game!”

“We were?” Sloane turned, shooting daggers at the side of Anne’s face.

Leander gasped, “That sounds amazing! I had been talking to Connely and Michaelson about Quidditch today, so I’m sure they would love to join! We just need a few others. Will you round up the other second-string Gryffindors for me while I get the others?” He paced back and forth, jittery with excitement.

Sloane could only nod dumbly, realizing there was no way that she was escaping this now nor did she really want to. A game sounded wonderful. Her cousin might be a little upset that they played with other houses, but what better way to gain insight?

Once Leander raced off to find the other players, Sloane shot one more dagger at Anne before going to round up her fellow Gryffindors. The Slytherin merely waved and said, “You’ll thank me later for the practice!”

It didn’t take long for everyone to make it to the Quidditch pitch. They had to wait for Ravenclaw to finish up with their practice before they could take the field, but it gave them ample time to choose teams. They didn’t have full teams, but they didn’t expect to play for too long.

No one contested with her about being Keeper, so she was happier than a niffler in a pot of Galleons. 

She had even more fun than she expected to. Without Bludgers, since no one wanted to recapture them after the game, players became a little more lawless. She didn’t participate in the spell slinging, but she almost fell off her broom laughing when Connely, a fourth year Ravenclaw, cast a Broom Bucking Hex on Leander, sending him flying into a mud puddle.

He sputtered and spewed foul colored water as he shook his fist at the other boy. When he began laughing and splashing in the mud, Sloane could only shake her head.

Charlotte Macmillan, a Hufflepuff, and Matilda Greengrass, a Slytherin, floated over to Sloane as the rest of the boys joined Leander in the puddle.

Greengrass leaned over to whisper in Sloane’s ear. “I hope they never wonder why we prefer older men.”

“Oh, you know how daft they are.” Macmillan let out an undignified snort that got all three girls cackling.

“At least they’re having fun?” Sloane offered, but shook her head as mud balls began flinging back and forth. “Do you think we should stop them?”

“And get our clothes dirty too? No thank you. I rather rise above the primal urges,” Greengrass said primly. “It is regrettable that we seem to be the only three taking this seriously. Quidditch accolades bode well on the marriage market, especially for men.”

Macmillan hummed, leaning back on her school broom. “You don’t get some enjoyment out of watching their clothing becoming a little wet?”

Sloane took a moment to look between the two older girls. Both of their faces were heated and their eyes half lidded. They both sat on their brooms in a way that if the boys looked up, they wouldn’t have to guess much about their curves regardless of their outfits.

“Isn’t it a bit indecent to stare at them?” Sloane murmured, feeling completely out of her depth.

“Oh, my mother would be horrified.” Greengrass said, absentmindedly. “But she’s in London taking care of my siblings, so nowhere near able to scold me. Plus, this is wonderful research for a husband.”

Her Hufflepuff friend snickered. “Please, do tell us why, Matilda. Your wisdom is better than Ravenclaws. Especially when it comes to men.”

“Well,” she began, twirling a loose strand of her hair as the boys continued to ignore them. “Most boys don’t truly become men until they move into their seventh-years, but Prewett seems to have beat the rest of them. Connley isn’t too far behind, but I would have a hard time choosing between the two. A good family or a good conversationalist?”

It dawned on Sloane that they were speaking of Leander’s height and broader shoulders. His more masculine physique. Her eyes darted from boy to boy to boy, each of their shirts soaked with mud and water, but plastered to their skin. She swallowed thickly. This is what her mother wanted her to be doing at school. Pretending to enjoy games and things to scope out more husband material. Her fingers clenched her broom as she muttered, “Don’t you want more?”

“Oh, most definitely. My family has been talking to the Notts and Malfoys, so I’ll do better than Prewett, but Charlotte, I’m sure you could snatch up Prewett if there isn’t a claim on him already.” The Slytherin eyed Sloane for any protests before looking over to her friend. “Well?”

“Me? No, I don’t like… I mean there isn’t. I don’t think so.” Sloane shook her head, embarrassment creeping up her spine. 

“Excellent!” The Hufflepuff cried, zooming downward towards the collection of filthy boys. “Boys, boys. Weren’t we supposed to be playing Quidditch?”

The rest of the conversation was lost on Sloane. Her ears were ringing with ‘Malfoys’ and ‘Notts’ and ‘Marriage’. She felt too young to be deciding her preferences. This was the rest of her future and the two other girls were only sixth-years, but they seemed to be happy to discuss it.

But once the game began anew, after the boys had to cast a series of cleaning spells, Sloane let the conversation slip from her mind. She wanted to have fun. If she had to think about all of that, she could wait until she was a sixth-year like Greengrass and Macmillan. 

Before they knew it, the sun had crossed below the horizon and the moon was much too high in the sky. Yet, their Hufflepuff compatriot showed them to the kitchens. While a house elf named Feenky showed them to a sweets table, the aforementioned girl took an interest in talking to Leander.

Sloane didn’t feel like snacking, but she still shoved some pastries in her mouth. She felt protective of Leander. She didn’t like how the girls talked about him. That he would give them a name, but leave out all the rest about him. It felt so shallow.

Leander had plenty of great qualities to him that had nothing to do with his name, but they didn’t care. Is that how you find a husband? You stop caring about the rest of the man?

Thankfully, her friend made his way to her. “Let’s head back together. I’m sure we can bribe any prefect with these pastries.”

Sloane nodded, feeling better now that something normal had happened. It wasn’t as if Quidditch wasn’t fun, but the other girls had changed it.

The pair of Gryffindors walked in amiable comfort until they got closer to the One-Eyed Witch. “Ah, Sloane?”

She stopped next to the statue while Leander had stopped in the middle of the landing. “Is everything alright?” She turned fully and took a few steps towards him.

He rubbed the back of his neck with a shy smile. “Yes, everything is fine. I just wanted to ask you something before we got back to the common room.”

A nervous laugh bubbled up and out of her. This was diverting from their usual routine. They had spent plenty of time alone, but Leander never looked at her like he was now. She watched his Adam’s apple bob before, muttering, “I’m sure we can talk about it in the common room. No need to be nervous out here.”

“I want you to come to the Hallows Eve Ball with me.”

His singular footstep rang out, echoing down through the Grand Staircase. She stared at him, befuddled. “With me? As what? A date?”

Excitement burst onto his features and he took a few more steps towards her. “Yes!” he gasped, but the closer he got, the unease grew.

When Leander reached out to touch her, she stepped back. “I didn’t say I would go. Where is this coming from? We always go as a group with Garreth. The three of us.”

Leander shrugged. “I wanted it to be different this year. I already asked Garreth if he would mind.” His grin didn’t waver, but he kept his place a few feet from her. 

“You know what people will think if I only go with you.”

“I don’t mind being seen with you. I like our time together. We make a good pair, don’t we?”

Her heart broke a little. A tiny crack on the surface as her mind flooded with all the inconsistencies in Leander’s behavior as of late. More aggressive fights with Sebastian. Standing closer to her than needed. Constantly asking for more time with her. 

“Are we not friends any longer?” she croaked.

He scoffed, “Men and women can’t be friends. Why else would you spend time with Garreth and I? We both know that you and Garreth are closer to siblings, so it’s only natural that you and I begin courting.”

“No.”

“Excuse me?” he snorted, an edge entering his tone. “What do you mean ‘No’?”

“I don’t want to court you. I don’t want to go to the ball with you. No, Leander. This… this isn’t fair.” Her voice seemed so small compared to his imposing figure only a few steps away from her. His gaze made her feel insignificant, threatening to tear through her. But she swallowed her fear. “I want us to be friends and nothing more.”

“Please,” he sneered. “Why are you fighting this? Didn’t your mother tell you our families have been talking? We’re practically betrothed.” His expression twisted and Sloane didn’t recognize him anymore.

Her fear twisted. It knotted. It boiled. 

When he took another step towards her, she held out her wand. “We’ve been friends all this time! I don’t belong to you any more than I belong to Garreth. I haven’t been told about these talks and I refuse to believe you. If you’re going to treat me like this, I don’t want to speak with you. Or see you for that matter.” Her wand trembled with her hand as she moved past him closer to The Grand Staircase. “Go to the common room without me. I’ll be out.”

Leander’s jaw tensed. “You shouldn’t be out alone.”

“I shouldn’t be out alone with you, ” she spat.

He shouted more, but she refused to listen. She knew she needed to get to the Room of Requirement. She would feel secure there. She could distract herself with homework or poachers or anything else. 

Her robe sleeve was soaked before she made it in the door.

Chapter Text

Sebastian

I shouldn’t be alone with you.

I shouldn’t be alone with you .

I shouldn’t be alone with you .

Sebastian knew that voice. It spun in his head, swirling quicker and quicker. Sloane. She had been talking to the dolt. There weren't any other thoughts in his head. Her voice had a chill to it that he’d never heard before. 

Prewett was the one threatening her.

Fire flickered under his skin as he ran a few steps towards the pair of Gryffindors, but stopped short when he heard Sloane’s rapidly retreating footsteps. He could barely make Prewett out in the dim light, but his instincts told him now wasn’t the time to choose a fight with the imbecile.

How dare Leander ask her first? I’ve spent more time with her this year than him. I listen to her! She helps my family in the summer instead of spending time with him. Oh… Oh no.

The previous inferno drained from his body, replaced with glacial water. 

Sebastian was jealous. Green. Insidious. Consuming.

Which could only mean one thing: the troll had been an excuse. 

This romantic infatuation had snuck under his skin before he could stop it. If he was honest about this discovery, he wouldn’t have stopped it. There was no doubt in his mind that she had to be his. Damn that ridiculous notion of being betrothed to Prewett. Damn her passing fancy with Honeyduke. And most of all, damn waiting anymore.

He would ask her to the ball as soon as possible.

##

Over the next several days, Sebastian came to realize that promising himself in the middle of the night on a dark staircase was much easier than actually asking her.

He tried to ask her while they were partners in DADA, but she smirked at him. All thoughts besides, I love that smirk, left him. He felt utterly pathetic in front of her. He had to scream at himself to stay focused because a horrible practice with Sloane would mean an even smaller chance of her saying yes.

In potions, he thought about writing her a note. It’s not as if his partner could see what he was scribbling down, but as he readied to charm it, he looked over to her station. Sloane, Thakkar, and Weasley were laughing as they stirred their cauldrons. The two boys would probably wonder what was going on with the slip of parchment. He didn’t fear Sloane showing them, but he assumed there was a possibility that Weasley would steal it.

Once Sunday rolled around, he was beginning to get nervous. Why is asking her to a ball so terrifying? I don’t remember the last time I was this anxious to talk to a girl.  

He had one last hope. Gryffindor’s Quidditch bout with Ravenclaw that evening. The lions were on a winning streak that most thought they wouldn’t be breaking any time soon. 

So, he devised a plan to get an invite to the afterparty.

Sebastian knew himself well enough to invite Ominis with him. There was a small chance, at least in his mind, that he would hex Prewett into the next century, but that wouldn’t make Sloane too happy. His best friend would help prevent that. 

The pair met up with Weasley on their walk to the Quidditch pitch. Normally, one redhead didn’t go anywhere without the other, so Sebastian asked, “Where’s Prewett?”

“He’s equipment manager. It’s Sloane’s first game, so he was extra nervous about checking everything out today.” 

He wanted to point out that it was a cover. Prewett probably found his conscience wherever it had been buried deep inside the back of his mind. Or he was trying to make it up to her. Sebastian had a feeling that wasn’t going to work.

His confidence grew. If Sloane won her first game, she would be in an ecstatic mood when he asked her to the ball. 

But with every height, comes the drop. Once the players took to the pitch, the only place Sloane looked from her spot near the goal was into a sea of yellow.

“Gaunt, can you even see what’s going on?” Weasley’s inquiry brought Sebastian back to the two boys he was meant to be watching with.

“Well, since it’s so cold, definitely not. I really can only see in the summertime.”

The Gryffindor blinked at the driest sarcasm, before chuckling. “Fair enough. Well, Sallow, will you help me call the game?”

His friend looked slightly taken aback by the gesture. He had thought he would shut Weasley up for a little while with the jab.

Sebastian grinned, deepening his voice slightly. “Welcome ladies and Ominis to this fine October day. How do you think Gryffindor will fare against the experienced Ravenclaw, Weasley?”

The red head could barely contain his laughter as Ominis’ face couldn’t decide if he wanted to be upset with the two or laughing at their antics.

Neither Sebastian nor Weasley truly knew the proper terms for some of the aerial acrobatics, so as the game continued their descriptions became wilder and wilder. The group of students that sat a little ways from them started to correct them, good naturedly.

Yet, once the score was seventy, Ravenclaw, to two-twenty, Gryffindor, a hush went over the crowd. 

The game had been going on for over two hours. Sloane hadn’t been substituted out, opting each time to harden her resolve.

One of the second-string Gryffindor Chasers fumbled the Quaffle. The captain of the Ravenclaw team snatched it. They had a straight shot towards Sloane.

Both teams’ Seekers took off. Blurs on the other side of the pitch.

Weasley tried to stutter through what was all happening with the seekers, while Sebastian’s eyes were glued onto Sloane. She tensed, gripping her broom as the older student neared. His stomach sunk, realizing her mistake.

Ravenclaw flew straight for the center goal post. Sloane took the bait. The captain leaned off the side of their broom, barely holding onto it with their legs, pelting it at the far right goal.

The crowd gasped as the Quaffle grazed her fingertips as she catapulted from her broom.

The stands full of blue erupted as their Seeker triumphantly glided to the center of the pitch.

One of Beaters on Gryffindor’s side was able to catch Sloane and help her back to her broom. Sebastian felt his chest twist and seize when the upperclassman shielded Sloane from the rest of the crowd as her hands went to her eyes.

“What happened? Everyone is cheering or groaning! Who won?” Ominis growled, but the two would be announcers slumped in their seats with equally defeated sighs. “Oh, Ravenclaw, then.”

The three of them traveled from the stands silently. Sebastian hoped for some clever remark that he could get the other two laughing, but the gloom had settled on them as heavy as a troll.

Weasley was the first to break the heaviness. “I have a favor to ask the two of you.”

They stopped near the Beasts classroom. Ominis rubbed his hands together with an impatient frown, but Sebastian did his best to look moderately interested. What kind of favor could they do for Weasley?

“Leander and, well, it doesn’t matter. Would you two come to the afterparty to help cheer up Sloane? I have a feeling I’m going to have to keep Leander away from her.”

“Did something happen?” Ominis snorted. “I thought he followed her like a puppy and she seemed fine with that.”

Sebastian’s head snapped to his best friend. He had never heard someone put it so simply before.

Weasley shrugged. “Not my story to tell. Are you in?”

“Won’t the afterparty be quite somber?” 

“Please,” the Gryffindor smirked at Sebastian. “Whether we win or not, we celebrate.”

Correct, he was. 

As the three crawled through the ridiculous entrance to their common room, the music echoed down the hall. Older students were dancing to one side of the room, completely off beat, but laughing. A fifth-year that Sebastian didn’t know the name of was explaining the game from atop a fireplace to the students who hadn’t been able to go. 

“Weasley!” Hensley called from a balcony. He had a cup of something that he took a large gulp from. “Oh.” He blinked down at the other two accompanying. “Gaunt, Sallow, get up here as well!”

Sloane jumped up from a couch behind him. She looked more put together than she had after the game, but her eyes were still rimmed with red. She looked up at her cousin with a weak glare, but offered Sebastian a short wave.

Weasley guided them up the stairs. Some of his fellow housemates glared at their green robes, but said nothing. Sebastian took Ominis’ lead and ignored them to the best of his ability. 

When Prewett appeared, raging and stomping towards them, Weasley pointed to a door and headed off the fuming beast.

Ominis turned and easily found the door, striding through as if this was their own common room. Sebastian took a moment to showcase a knowing, but threatening smirk at Prewett before he was ushered away.

“Ah, yes, Gaunt, it’s been a moment since I’ve been in your illustrious presences.” Hensley slurred, leaning against the railing of the balcony. “Please help my wonderful dear cousin. She doesn’t understand that losing isn’t the end of the world.”

“I’m fine,” she growled. “You’re drunk and keep repeating the same thing over and over again.” Her eyes flickered between the two Slytherins, but looked less surprised and more relaxed.

“Mm, right you are! I think I’ll go find Esmerelda. She might need some comfort.”

Sloane covered her face at her cousin’s scandalous admission. Ominis merely raised an eyebrow with a slightly impressed smile. Sebastian took this opportunity to take the nearest seat to the only Gryffindor left. 

When she peeked through her fingers, an exasperated sigh left her lips. “Truly, I am fine. I think I’m allowed to feel at least some misery for being the one that lost the game. I broke the streak. On my first game!”

Sebastian couldn’t help the chuckle that left him as she wailed. “Yes, Sloane. It sounds like you’re quite well. At least you aren’t breaking glass with your wailing.”

She deadpanned and swatted at his shoulder. “What, were you not miserable when you’ve lost?”

“Oh, Sebastian will tell you he never loses.” Ominis drawled, barely covering up a snort. It tugged an unwilling grin to her face. “He’s most devastated when he disappoints our dear Imelda Reyes.”

Jealousy growled when Ominis’ joke was the one to get her to laugh, but simmered when she turned to him. “Do you cry as well?”

“Of course not! I usually have to grovel for her forgiveness and sobbing doesn’t help.”

Sloane tried to contain her laugh, but it burst from her as if waiting for him to be clever. His head spun. He couldn’t believe he was sharing the same couch with her. A hair’s breadth away. She liked his humor.

The two Slytherin boys traded quips to keep their friend snickering. Slowly, the conversation evolved into stories of all their failures and possible solutions. It didn’t matter if it was Ominis in potions or Sloane in charms, they had an amazing time.

Once Professor Weasley stepped through the tunnel, the students began to pack up their things. She sent out weak admonishments for their behavior with a large grin on her face. Even when Sebastian and Ominis tried to sneak out in the flutter of activity and she spotted them, she offered to walk them back to Slytherin’s common room since they seemed to have gotten lost.

No points were deducted from their house, but she did warn to be careful how many times they get lost so far away from their own common room. Regardless if it's for a friend or not.

Sebastian almost fell asleep with a smile on his face, until he remembered he hadn’t asked Sloane to that blasted ball.

Chapter Text

Sloane

The crushing disappointment lessened to a dull ache as Sloane focused on other matters. It was easy to distract herself when Nearly Headless Nick offered to help her figure out the missing pages of her book. 

The Headless Hunt was rather unsuccessful for her ghost partner, but Sloane was able to get in contact with Richard Jackdaw.

The only issue that stood in front of her was The Forbidden Forest. Yes, her, Natty, and Poppy had made plenty of forays into the darkness, but alone was a different story. There was a sneaking suspicion that she should have a partner for this. Whatever innate magic or stars or guts were telling her, shouldn’t be ignored.

Her first choice was Anne, but the hollowness of her cheeks had worsened. It seemed like any adventure with her Slytherin friend would be put on hold.

So, that was how she ended up waiting for Garreth near one of the ponds in the greenhouse. When she asked, he was more than ecstatic to join her, but told her he needed to bring some potions from his stash. Any other questions about where he was going or what this stash meant were met with shrugs. She mused that it meant it was better for her not to know.

Which seemed only fair with how many secrets she was keeping from everyone else.

“Ready!” Garreth called from behind her, offering her a pouch. When she didn’t take it right away, he jiggled it. Glass clinked together. “A potion pack. My cousin charmed them himself while we were in India. This is yours and I have mine.”

“You seem overly prepared for something like this.”

Another shrug, so Sloane didn’t comment.

Many of their fellow students were enamored with their various clubs. The other students hardly noticed their presence as they continued walking past the revelry. At one point, she saw Leander losing at Summoner’s Court and felt a fleeting bit of joy. She swallowed the wealth of guilt it brought to the surface.

She hadn’t been able to talk to him, let alone face him after he threatened her. Each emotion seemed to balloon until another one was bigger, pushing everything out of the way. Nothing seemed to burst, keeping all this mess clustered in her stomach.

“Well,” her partner stopped a few feet in front of her, “I guess this is where we wait.”

Sloane nodded and slumped against a tree. Garreth passed her a piece of bread and a chunk of cheese. They ate slowly as he rechecked his potions. 

The sounds of the forest filled her head, calming some of her frayed nerves. Garreth’s presence had that effect as well. He never expected them to carry on a conversation like most boys their age. He didn’t need her for entertainment. They were comfortable company for each other. A novelty it seemed between the sexes.

Once the sun began to set, Richard Jackdaw appeared. Sloane nearly laughed out loud. “Garreth, have you met Richard Jackdaw before?”

“No, why?” Her best friend turned, looking between her and the apparition. 

“Ah,” she began, but a snicker escaped, so she started over. “Garreth, this is Richard Jackdaw. Richard, this is Garreth Weasley.”

The two boys nodded, hair moving in sync and she had to bite down on her lip to keep more giggles.

It was uncanny how similar their hair was and even some of their features. Maybe they were distant relatives? Or not so distant?

Garreth brazenly followed Richard passed spider and dugbog warnings. Though as they continued their ghostly friend began to slow. Once they reached a fork, he came to a stop. “It seems that I am remembering quite a bit as we journey, and I believe I should stop here. The lake you need to find is to the right. I don’t know what else lies beyond, so tread carefully.”

The pair of Gryffindors nodded, hardening their gazes. The trek was thankfully uninterrupted, but she spotted a rather large poaching camp in the distance. Several tents and quite a bit of shouting. Garreth gave her a pointed look after he caught her staring too long.

The bird bath was exactly where they were told it would be. With a simple utterance of the password, they entered a large cave system.

The puzzles here weren’t difficult to figure out, but they both had to cast Accio to move any of the platforms. The weight of the platforms exhausted them as the night marched forward. 

“Here.” Garreth stepped in front of Sloane before she could pathetically cast again. “This will help get our energy back. You didn’t tell me this was going to be a magical stamina exercise!” he joked, uncorking his bottle and downing all of the contents.

She didn’t hesitate, following his lead. Warmth spread down her throat into her belly. Her fingers buzzed, almost itching to cast more spells. “What is this?”

“A Garreth Original.”

With a deadpan, she sighed, “What side effects am I going to have to deal with now?”

“If you take Dreamless Sleep later, it won’t work,” he mused, ticking off one finger, “Body temperature increase, and a bit of worry.”

“Interesting. Why do you keep this to yourself?”

“Firstly, I am in no way licensed. Secondly, it’s technically the antidote for Dreamless Sleep with a few added ingredients that could cause compulsion.” 

“Compulsion?” she snapped.

“Only in large quantities,” he said quickly, and a bit sheepishly. “I think.”

“Garreth,” she growled, passing him back the bottle. “I don’t want anymore.”

“See! Nothing to worry about. In addition, British Horklumps are much more addictive than the ones I used. It’s why Wiggenweld should be used sparingly.”

Her eyes narrowed, studying her best friend as he dug around in his pack. He brought out more bread and cheese this time. “I’m starting to wonder if I should have brought a different friend to help.”

“Oh, most definitely.” He grinned. “Natty or,” he paused until Sloane looked over, “Sallow would have done much better than I.”

“Really? Why do you bring him up?” she grumbled between bites.

“I was honestly rather surprised that you didn’t invite him along after… whatever favor you asked of him.”

“It wasn’t anything like that. Leander asked too many questions about the Restricted Section. Sebastian did not.”

“So, the two of you aren’t close?”

Gray eyes bore into the piece of bread between her fingers. She wanted to deny it, but it was more complicated than a simple yes or no. “He nor Natty know about all of this Ancient Magic anyway. I didn’t want to explain this all over again just to go through one cave.”

When she was brave enough to look up, she found him staring at her with an unimpressed glare. “So you’re leading him on like you did with Leander?”

“Leading?!” She took a deep breath after her exclamation, centering herself. She knew that Garreth wasn’t the one that would say things like that. “Whatever Leander told you is incorrect.”

“How am I supposed to know when this is the first time I’ve been alone with you in months? Are you avoiding me? Because of Leander? You know that I don’t control him and he doesn’t take my advice. You have to…” he trailed off, running a hand through his hair. “You’re my best friend. I don’t have feelings like he does, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

Sloane blinked. Her thoughts crashed into one another, causing her to shake her head. She had to get at least one coherent sentence out!

“I know things are different this year with your Ancient Magic, but I didn’t think that would keep us apart. You didn’t make it sound that way before.”

She held her hands out. “I’m tracking poachers with Natty and Poppy. I spend my free time taking care of the magical creatures that we’ve saved. Garreth, I never knew that Leander had feelings for me! I thought we were all friends. I never wanted anything more from either of you. He said we’re betrothed!” Her words flew out of her mouth. They sounded garbled and messy to her, but she felt better without them.

“Then what the hell is going on with you and Sallow? He watched you play Quidditch with Gaunt! He watches you in Potions and Herbology, but those are the only ones I catch, so I’m sure there’s more time.”

“No, no, he doesn’t.” She closed her eyes as her head shook again. “He’s toying with me. Nothing more. I don’t know why he watched me play. Maybe Anne asked him to do it for her.”

Garreth scoffed, rolling his eyes for added measure. “You need to start looking at things objectively. We aren’t kids anymore, so you can’t let that influence you so much. People change.”

Sloane pursed her lips. She wanted him to be wrong. She needed the advice to be bad. But Garreth was a master at making sense. “I need more time.”

He nodded. “That’s at least a better answer than Leander gave me.”

With a snort and a shared eye roll, they continued through the maze.

They stutter-stepped when they came upon Richard Jackdaw’s skeleton. How long has it been here for it to look like that?  

But before any other thoughts or questions could run through her head, Garreth grabbed ahold of her arm. He pointed at the several Guardians coming to life. She grit her teeth, grumbling, “I’ve dealt with them before. I’ll freeze, you shatter.”

He quickly pulled out a few potions from his back, motioning for her to go. “These are perfect test subjects!”

As she cast Glacius , Garreth lobbed one of the bottles at the frozen titan. Time stood still as the glass shattered, causing a mass of sparks to burst free. Yet, it didn’t seem to cause all that much damage to the looming giant.

“Hm, too much Ashwinder it seems.”

“Lovely to know, Garreth, but can you use your wand now?”

“The other bottles have different percentages!”

Sloane huffed, blasting the next closest one. “Well, hurry up! I’d rather not have to do this all on my own.”

“Yes, yes, yes.” He lobbed another one, muttering to himself as more sparks and a louder crash hit a Guardian.

She had to give him some credit on that next one. The explosion was much brighter, Garreth had thrown it directly in its face, causing the monster to stumble slightly. With that one out of the way, he pulled out his dark wand, effortlessly casting, “ Protego! Stupefy!” as an ax flew towards them. 

Sloane breathed a sigh of relief as the Guardians began to crumble around them. With each Glacius cast, Garreth followed it up with Fraygo . Their teamwork brought back memories of times that he and Leander would attempt to help her get simple charms down. Eventually they gave up, but they all had fun practicing together.

As the last Guardian fell to their combined spell casting, they slumped to the ground. Exhausted. 

“How are we supposed to find a book after this? Do we take a nap and then go find it? This has to be the end, right?” 

“No, usually the Guardians are the end. I don’t see there being more fighting after this.”

“Thank Merlin.”

After a few sips, and a chunk of cheese later, they trudged through the final and rather horrifying trial. Sloane clung to Garreth to make sure the flood wouldn’t rip him away, but the bubble wrapped around them both as they stepped into an antechamber. 

Four large and empty portraits stood towering before them. Both of them looked about the chamber, hoping for some sort of sign that they had done it, but an older gentleman appeared in the middle portrait.

“I did not expect to see two. Can you both…” he trailed off as he looked between the two students. “I’m sorry, I am getting ahead of myself. I am Percival Rackham, a former professor at Hogwarts. Who do I have the pleasure of meeting?”

Sloane took a step forward. “I am Sloane Frazier. I was the one that found the first clue in Gringotts. This is Garreth Weasley, he helped me through today’s trial. He can’t see Ancient Magic like I can, but I wouldn’t be here without him.”

He nodded as a slight frown formed. “I designed these trials to be done alone, but it shows great Hufflepuff qualities to bring a friend along.” 

His expression softened, but Sloane didn’t quite take it as a compliment. “I think it takes quite a bit of bravery to admit when one is lacking, then asking for help.” Her tone was clipped and a bit cold. “What is this place?”

Professor Rackham chuckled. “Ah, apologies, it seems I am in the presence of two stout and determined Gryffindors. Before we get to that, did you happen to bring the book with you?”

Sloane blinked, wondering if he had been joking with them the whole time. Maybe I shouldn’t get too upset when someone mistakes me for a Hufflepuff. I have been spending quite a bit of time with Poppy.  

“No. We didn’t bring the book.” Garreth glared at Sloane pointedly when she stood there, dumbly staring.

“Professor Fig has it. He’s been studying it while on errands for the headmaster,” she blurted. “I wanted it to be clear that I had not lost it,” she grumbled softly as Garreth tried to cover up a snicker.

The portrait merely nodded. “Well, then we will meet again when Professor Fig arrives back with the book. I look forward to meeting him and seeing the two of you again.” He gave them a pointed look before stating, “I hope no one else will be informed. We need to keep our circle tight-knit.”

The star-lit witch stiffly nodded her head in return, her best friend’s face popping into her mind’s eye.

As the pair exited the antechamber, Garreth whooped, “Such a smart mouth! You snapped at a professor, Sloane!”

“A former professor,” she muttered, but couldn’t help the boost of confidence her housemate gave her. “I don’t think adults are as scary as they used to be.”

In the privacy of the dungeon’s staircase, Garreth swung an arm around her shoulders, pulling her in for a hug and a laugh. She forgot about the terrors of the trial and the annoyance of elders telling her what to do, enjoying the warmth of a close friend who was proud of her.

Chapter Text

Sebastian & Sloane

The Slytherin common room was abuzz. Some witches were already gossiping about the couples going together. Some wizards were teasing each other for their ridiculous dress-robes. Others were huddled in their cliques, too proper to be excited about the festivities. 

From what Ominis told him about the wizarding marriage market, this is what pureblood families took as the training grounds. If you were serious about finding a spouse by the end of your time at Hogwarts, sixth year and beyond were meant to hone your accolades. Some could get away with only looking in their seventh year, but there was potential that one would lose out on someone. Well, that was if there wasn’t an agreement between their parents already.

Many firstborns already knew who they were to marry before they arrived at Hogwarts, so used all their school time to spend as little time with their betrothed.

Although Sebastian came from a pureblood family himself, they had never been particularly wealthy. They were teachers and scholars spanning generations. Not all of them took interest in wizardly pursuits and well, the other pureblood families want no inconsistencies.

As he watched the merriment and stoicism, he wondered if he was better or worse. If his twin didn’t hurry up they would be a little more than fashionably late.

Meanwhile in the Gryffindor’s girl dorm, an explosion erupted from Cressida’s vanity. Colorful debris and dust wafted from her side of the room.

Natty groaned while Sloane tried to hold back laughter. “You know, we could do your makeup by hand if you want. Rather than glaring at your powders.”

When their other roommate turned, her face completely covered in a number of powders and sparkles, both Natty and Sloane couldn’t contain their giggles. They rushed to her side as a hiccup turned into tears. 

“Oh, you just need more practice. We can fix this!” Natty comforted her as Sloane gazed down at the mess of a vanity.

“Bu-but!” she sobbed. “What if Leander doesn’t want to dance with me since I’m late?”

“I don’t think you have anything to worry about,” Sloane muttered with as much sympathy as she could. She had a distinct feeling that Leander had asked one of her roommates to the ball to try to make her jealous.

It wasn’t working.

Sebastian was done sulking over the fact that he was never able to ask Sloane to the ball. From what Anne had, smugly, told him she wasn’t going with anyone, but would probably spend most of her time with Weasley. It would be child’s play to ask her for a dance. Or a few.

Anne seemed to be in high spirits as well. Her grin was contagious. He and Ominis couldn’t help grinning with her as excitement grew. 

Many witches were in ostentatious costumes. Athena, Morgan Le Fay, and swans were the most popular this year. With real owls sat atop their shoulders, long black wigs with trinkets woven into braids, and an ungodly amount of feathers. Some had taken some creative liberties with their outfits, but for the most part, many of the girls looked exactly the same.

He supposed that it was easier for them to get away with whatever mischief they were planning.

Wizards definitely didn’t put as much effort into their outfits. Many of them focused on their masks, much like Sebastian had.

His burnished bronze mask covered the top half of his face. Ominis rolled his eyes when he saw that Sebastian had once again transfigured into a skull. This year he had charmed the eyes of the mask to appear stormy. Anne had snickered for whatever reason upon seeing the lightning flashes. The only other adornment on it were the snakes that held the mask in his hair by their tails. Their eyes flickering emeralds, gifts from Ominis that he made sure to incorporate in every appropriate outfit.

His robes leaned closer to muggle-make. He didn’t see the need to have such flowing sleeves and a cape. The aristocratic family could hang onto that level of pretentiousness.

“Ominis, ask me to dance,” Anne squeaked as soon as they entered the Great Hall.

With practiced grace and a hint of teasing, his best friend bowed and offered his hand. “Would you do me the honor of dancing with me, Miss Sallow?”

Sebastian rolled his eyes at the gesture, but his twin giggled, “Of course!”

The pair nearly ran to the dance floor, leaving him adrift. It wasn’t different from other years, but it caused him to once again realize that Sloane should be at his side for him to do the same thing.

Where is she? Though most Gryffindors seem to have a party before every ball… A smirk tugged at his cheeks, wondering what mischief Sloane was getting herself into. I suppose it will give me time to put something in my stomach.

Many of the other students attending, crowded around the dessert table. Not that any of the students disliked the house elves' food, but each of the balls were a break for the staff. They had brought in sweets from France this year. Colorful and numerous drew classmates to them like Ashwinders to floo.

Sebastian wanted more of the savory side of French cuisine. There were several whole ducks one could take parts from, all wrapped delicately with brider. Their plating had a light splatter of a white sauce that he almost ran his finger through to taste. Victoria gave him a look from her spot near one of the exterior doors as he reached out, cementing his decision to take a delicate piece of duck.

He picked through the buffet until there was a be of a raucous at the main doors. Ah, the Gryffindors have arrived. 

Sloane was grateful that her upperclassman preferred to make such grand entrances. She and Garreth were able to skirt away from the rest of their house and slink into the back of the hall without notice. Many of the teachers were stationed in the darkened corners, but the pair paid them no mind. 

“Why did you want to come to this anyway? Leander still might try to ask you to dance.” Garreth leaned over to whisper in her ear.

She sighed, “I don’t know. To see Anne? It felt silly to stay inside because Leander did his best to ruin this for me.”

Garreth eyed her with a frown, but she rolled her eyes, so a smirk grew in its place. “There’s someone else you want to dance with, isn’t there?”

Instead of answering, she pursed her lips, muttering, “Don’t you?”

“Nope.”

“Why not?”

“Dancing isn’t an interest of mine. I’m here for the food and conversation.”

“Are you trying to sell things?”

He shrugged with no remorse. “What better time?”

Sloane snickered, letting them fall into comfortable silence as the music swelled. Even though they were as far away from the dance floor as possible, she could still see Leander and Cressida. His red hair and height made it easy. She felt a smile come to her lips. She and Natty had done an amazing job reworking her makeup and hair. Even if Leander wouldn’t get rid of his feelings in a night, there was no doubt he would be taken with her.

She had dressed up like a famous French witch that had worked for one of the King Louis’s. She couldn’t remember since Cressida had been relaying the story through tears. Her white wig was almost as tall as Leander, but it would stay immaculate through the whole night. 

Sloane had made sure.

Sebastian wasn’t sure. Well, he was sure it was Sloane because she was next to a redhead, but his confidence was wavering. He chastised himself for forgetting that she would be just as dressed up as his sister, if not more.

This—

Bloody hell, he couldn’t think. 

Jealousy roared to life as she laughed with her friend. Evil and insistent. 

He should be the one leaning close to her. He wanted to compliment her. The way her dress cinched below her breast, shimmering stardust trailing down through her skirts. Shooting stars traveled from one side of her dress to the next. Was he allowed to wish on them? Did it matter?

Stardust swirled throughout her dress. All he wanted to do was bunch it up in his hands and draw her close.

“Who’s with Weasley?” He assumed a Ravenclaw, due to the blue adornments, muttered to his friend.

The friend looked up from licking his finger, humming, “Probably that Gryffindor. You know the wild one.”

“You think he has a claim on her, then?”

Sebastian didn’t stay for the rest. Envy pushed his feet where his lacking courage couldn’t. Weasley didn’t have a claim, but he would. He wouldn’t lose her to some Ravenclaw that sneered at her. Or any of the other boys looking her way the longer she stood with Weasley and not on the dancefloor. 

His heart echoed in his ears. Music fell away. He was compelled. He wanted to see her mask up close. Did it shine on its own or was that light all Sloane’s? She had to be dressed up as a lunar goddess. Any of them. She deserved to be revered as well as they were.

“Sloane, funny seeing you here.”

Her stomach dropped. Brown hair and a smooth cadence appeared in front of her. He had taken wide strides from the buffet tables. There was only a second where she thought it could be Jonathan Honeyduke, but she relaxed when the realization that it was Sebastian washed over her.

His curls masterfully fell over his mask as lightning flashed from his eyes. Familiar mischief glowed from his smirk as he took his spot on her other side.

“I see Anne has already abandoned you for the dance floor.” She nodded to the splash of blond on the edge of the floor for it only to disappear in the crowd again.

“She seemed to have more important things to do than entertain her twin.” His smirk didn’t waver at her snickering. “Why aren’t you dancing?”

“Let me get some food,” Garreth interjected, eyes focused somewhere farther into the Great Hall. 

Sloane gave him a curious look, but nodded. “Bring us back some as well.”

All she received was a wave as he wandered off, almost entranced. She turned back to Sebastian with a deadpan. “I will be dancing enough this summer, so why add to it.”

“Do you not like it?”

“I don’t mind the dancing, but from what my mother says, I’m supposed to converse as well. I think that’s worse.”

“Worried they’ll be all like Prewett?”

She scowled, tears pricking her eyes at the thought of lost friendship, but she didn’t want to delve into that. “You would be surprised how lackluster some boys are at conversation.”

“I think your standards might be a little too high.”

“Excuse me?” She turned, finding a teasing smile on his lips. She pouted and muttered, “Here I was going to compliment your improvement this year, but I won’t.”

“Oh, Sloane,” he murmured, leaning down. She stiffened at his closeness, her throat constricting at his timbre. “I would never tell you to lower them since I would always exceed them. May I show you?”

Charming. Her mind screamed. He’s only playing with you. He’s Anne’s twin! With a scoff, she turned with a teasing smirk of her own, “Are you so—”

“Give me that!”

The pair paused, gazes turning towards the dessert table. A pair of Ravenclaws were physically fighting over a pastry of some sort. Sebastian shifted, angling himself in front of her as punches were thrown.

The Professor Weasley and Sharp stomped from behind them to the pair. The music swelled, keeping the other students distracted.

Sloane had a chill run down her back. Unease grew, causing her to scan the rest of the hall. Many students seemed to be acting normal, nothing out of the ordinary for a ball. Yes, they danced a little closer and longer than they should, but nothing obscene. 

Yet, she pressed closer to Sebastian. A prickle at the base of her neck told her something was wrong. Laughter was louder. There was dancing in the darker spaces of the Great Hall. When her eyes snapped back to the two Ravenclaws, the pair of Professors escorted them out of the hall.

“It wasn’t me.” 

Sloane jumped, grabbing ahold of Sebastian’s suit coat, but instantly relaxed when she saw Garreth and Amit. “What do you mean it wasn’t you?” 

Amit crunched on his plate full of macarons, savoring each bite. It almost washed away the tightness in Sloane’s chest at the normalcy of it. 

Sebastian relaxed next to her as the other two boys moved closer. He eyed her best friend with wary curiosity. 

“The dessert table smells weird.”

“Garreth, you’re not giving me a lot to go on.”

“It’s a hunch. I went over there with Amit.” He gestured to the boy, then continued, “Before those two started ranted, I got a whiff of something. I can’t place it, but I wanted to make sure that you knew it wasn’t me.”

Sebastian snorted, “You’re doing a horrible job of convincing us.”

“He only experiments on friends, right?” Sloane grumbled. “Or on trips with friends?”

The Slytherin turned to her, but she couldn’t read anything but a frown as Garreth grinned. “Exactly. I would want something a little more controlled than a ball.”

“None of the desserts tasted odd. I’ve had plenty of each.” Amit added with a sheepish grin. “I have a weakness for French food. Especially these.” He bit into another macaron with a satisfied hum.

Sloane blinked. “Shouldn’t you stop eating them if Garreth thinks something is wrong?”

“I would taste if there was something wrong,” he quipped rather confidently.

It only made her worry a little more. “Well,” she started, turning to Garreth. “If it wasn’t you, how are you going to prove it if the professors start asking?”

“He would have to find which one and examine it.” Sebastian’s eyes trailed over the dessert table. “But we’re running out of specimens.”

The foursome looked over at the decimated buffet table. 

The star-lit witch groaned, “Describe the smell. We’ll help you work.”

“Well, it’s subtly citrus and a hint of wolfsbane.”

Both Sloane and Sebastian exchanged a shared look of confusion, but made their way to the dessert table with Garreth and Amit in tow. 

They did their best. There were a few desserts that smelled of citrus, but had no hint of wolfsbane. Or there might have been something close to wolfsbane. Regardless, both Sloane and Sebastian piled it on a plate. Each pastry they added deepened Sebastian’s scowl, his gaze jumping from the table to the dance floor.

“We would have seen her come over here.” Sloane whispered.

He barely nodded, eyes shifting to behind her. “This is what we found.” He held out the plate to Garreth. Amit was close behind him, his plate gone.

Her best friend nodded, scouring the eclairs, tarts, and fraisiers. “I need a private place to pick them apart.” His green eyes lifted to Sloane’s. “Don’t give me that look. Professor Sharp is probably still with the Ravenclaws.”

“As long as wherever we go isn’t as hot as it is in here.” Amit grumbled, loosening his tie slightly.

“Yes, yes, it would be best if we snuck into the Potions classroom.” Garreth’s eyebrows raised as a wicked grin formed. “It’ll let me take this bloody mask off.”

Their naive Ravenclaw friend looked horror stricken at her cursing, but both Garreth and Sebastian shared unabashed amused grins. The Slytherin nodded to a darker spot, ushering them over.

He easily cast a couple of Disillusionment charms on their group. They disappeared out the giant doors, unnoticed. The music quiets in the hallways as they snuck past prefects and older students. Couples risking the ire of professors, but distracted enough for them to breeze by.

Garreth pushed open the Potion classroom’s door like he was the professor, and sighed, “Let’s get to work.”

Chapter Text

Sebastian & Sloane

They piled their masks on an unused station. The Gryffindor witch pulled off her gloves and throwing them down, had Sebastian swallowing. His thoughts were darker than they needed to be. He shook them off.

He stationed himself on the edge of the station, watching Weasley and Thakkar examine the desserts more thoroughly. 

Sloane collected various instruments as if she had done this plenty of times for Weasley. He wanted to crack a joke about her mischief, but he wasn’t in any room to talk.

Weasley showed him a charm that breaks down the ingredients and shows anything else added. Once all three boys were at a cauldron, taking notes with their individual desserts, Sloane sat down at an empty station with an incredibly large potion manual in her lap.

He tried to stay focused, but with how efficiently they took on their roles, he wondered if this was the first time the Gryffindors and Ravenclaw had done something similar. Or was this what it felt like to fall into teamwork? It felt so natural to be in this classroom with these three investigating oddities.

“Found anything, Amit?”

“No! Stop asking every second.”

Sebastian looked up at Thakkar’s tone, wondering where the hostility had come from. In his brief study, he noticed a shared look between Sloane and Weasley. 

His eyes snapped back to Thakkar.

Only after a few minutes in the classroom, he had become coated in sweat. Between examining his pile of desserts, he poured himself a full glass of water each time.

The dungeon classroom was much colder than the Great Hall, so the other boy should be shivering with all the sweat he came down here with. Sebastian opened his mouth to try to help—

“ Muto! ”

“ Accio! ”

The two Gryffindors dove at Thakkar as he stumbled over his own feet into a chair.

“ Carpe Retractum!” Sloane swished her wand with a breath of relief.

“What are you doing?!” the Ravenclaw bellowed, gnashing teeth and wide eyes. He struggled against the ropes she conjured.

Weasley knelt down in front of the raging boy, crossing his arms over his legs. Sebastian felt a little awkward at the tenderness that entered the red head’s gaze. “This isn’t you. What did you eat?”

Thakkar looked bewildered for a moment, but his breathing evened at the sight of his… friend. Something cleared in his eyes and his lips wavered. “I didn’t mean to shout.”

“I know you didn’t, but I need to know what you ate.”

“Macarons.” 

“How many?”

“I lost count.”

Weasley nodded, his gaze turning to Sloane. “We have to get our hands on one. Whatever is causing issues, the macarons must have the most concentration if he’s affected like this.”

“I don’t know how long I can stay normal. Everything is annoying,” Thakkar whimpered, looking desperately at Weasley.

“Sebastian.” Sloane started, wringing her hands as if he would deny her. “I think it should be you. Your Disillusionment is much better than any of ours.”

He stood a little straighter, a bolt of pride running through him. He nodded. “I’ll be as fast as I can.” He looked at Weasley and Thakkar. 

Their Ravenclaw friend continued to stare miserably down at his shoes. 

Garreth, on the other hand, met his eyes with a short nod. 

The Great Hall was a mess. The trip back to it had been so incredibly effortless that a Disillusionment charm from Sloane would have sufficed. 

Students were in various stages of drunkenness or other such intoxication. The masquerade ball was known to get a little rowdy because Mr. Moon’s ‘pumpkin juice’ would make an appearance somehow, but this was a whole different level. 

Each of the professors, who had volunteered to be chaperones, were breaking up fights. Other professors were trying to usher the sane students out.

Sebastian had to focus. There had to be at least one macaron left! He crouched in one of the shadows, scanning the tables.

“Matilda!” Sharp rushed from behind Sebastian to the Deputy Headmistress aghast in the chaos. “Deek found the caterers.”

Her eyes widened, the Slytherin stopping for a moment to eavesdrop. “What?” Her voice was high pitched with worry. “What do you mean he found them?”

The professor’s face fell, a bitter scowl taking hold. “They’re dead in the boathouse.”.

Sebastian covered his mouth to keep his gasp quiet. The caterers are dead?! Who would kill caterers?  

He refocused. He needed a macaron.

The dessert table had been decimated. There was nothing left. Was it possible that the other sweets had been contaminated as well, but the macarons were the worst? Oh, Merlin, did Anne have some of the sweets? But he bit his lip. He couldn’t worry about his twin right now. He had to accomplish this for Sloane and her… their friends.

A table that had been knocked over. He took one more look around the Great Hall. It had been minutes, but more students were acting out and the professors had grown paler. When Professor Weasley rushed past him, almost knocking him down, he hid behind the table. 

In a glimmer of light, sat a single blue macaron, untouched. Sebastian wondered about providence for a moment, but he wouldn’t waste anymore time. He wrapped it in a cloth napkin and shoved it in his pocket. He had to make it out of the chaos.

His pace quickened the closer he got to the exit, dodging past irate and fearful students. Once he made it through a door, he breathed a heavy exhale. He leaned the back of his head against the wood, closing his eyes for a moment to calm his heart.

In the next moment, he was stumbling back. The door was gone!

“Mister Sallow, what are you doing?”

Sloane hovered over her best friend, reading through his notes as he made them. Her eyes flickered to Amit for a moment, then back to the notes. The back of her neck prickled, but she couldn’t place the unease. Is the Ancient Magic trying to tell me something?

A creak had her looking up again. Amit was drenched in sweat, but in the seat they tied him to. Her heart ached at the thought someone would poison such a nice boy. Or anyone else.

A long, tearing noise had her eyes widening as Amit stood from the chair with murder glinting in his eyes. 

“Garreth!” 

They fumbled for their wands, having forgotten them in their concentration.

Garreth rushed forward, tackling Amit into the chair as it exploded.

“That’s not what I meant!”

Amit landed a punch under Garreth’s cheek. 

“Stop dawdling! Get another chair!”

Her heart squeezed, her eyes blindly searching the darkened classroom. Her ears were ringing. How is it easier to deal with poachers?!

“ Accio! ” she shouted, a lone chair barely scraping across the floor.

“Mean it!” Garreth growled as he did his best to pin Amit’s hands above his head, but groaned when the Ravenclaw’s knee collided against his side.

“ Accio! ” she snarled at the furniture and it screeched over to her. “Here!”

Garreth staggered to his feet, having rolled off Amit. He panted as he watched the other boy. “Well?” he taunted.

But depthless eyes narrowed at Sloane. She raised her wand, as her stomach dropped.

“What is— Petrificus Totalus !” Professor Sharp boomed.

Amit crumbled into the chair, body rigid.

She breathed a sigh of relief. Why hadn’t I thought of that?

Garreth raised his hands. “It wasn’t me, Professor, I swear it.”

“I got it!” Sebastian, who was pulled in behind the Professor by his collar, raised a cloth napkin.

Their potions professor looked between the four of them, calculating. His eyes eventually landed on Garreth. “Show me what you know.” He snatched the macaron out of Sebastian's hand, striding to the station Garreth had occupied.

It took him a moment to realize he wasn’t in trouble, but he scrambled over. “These are my notes on the other desserts. Amit isn’t the first, but he was able to tell us that he ate a lot of macarons.”

The professor looked down at the unwrapped morsel, then to Garreth’s notes. He muttered a few things to himself, pointing at certain points in the notes. The pair began discussing in hushed tones, but Sloane didn’t care. 

She slumped against an unused station, eyes glued to the frozen Amit. Rage scarred his normally open face. He looked like her friend, but so wrong.

Before she could spiral more, Sebastian bumped his shoulder to hers. She thought of looking over to him scandalized when his forearm brushed against hers, but she was too tired for propriety. He leaned closer to whisper, breath fluttering down her shoulder, “They found the caterers dead. Something went terribly wrong tonight.”

Professor Sharp looked up, examining the two of them as Sloane held her breath. “I need some Wormwood and Asphodel,” he barked. 

The two stumbled away from their spot towards the ingredient storeroom.

“Who would kill caterers?” Sloane barely whispered as the door closed behind them. She looked wildly around the room, wishing she had paid more attention in here when Garreth was showing her ingredients that he ‘didn’t need’.

“I thought the same thing, but it has to do…” he trailed off, frown tugging at his lips. “Does it look empty to you in here?”

She blinked. Taking a moment to inhale, she realized that there was a considerable amount of stock missing from the shelves. The whole room was a mess. Everyone knew Professor Sharp didn’t tolerate students treating his classroom like this. She stared at Sebastian for a long moment, but closed her eyes as she shook her head. “We need to get the ingredients. We can deal with this later.”

When she opened her eyes, he shared a concerned look with her, but nodded. They continued their search, finding barely any of the ingredients that their professor had asked for.

Setting them on the station between Garreth and Professor Sharp, both looked up from the lacking quantity. But ultimately, the older wizard shook his head and turned back to his potion making.

The next several minutes had Sloane almost chewing through her bottom lip. If Amit broke out of magical ropes, does that mean he can break out of this spell too? What does this mean for the other students? Are they all acting this aggressive? As her anxiety grew, something else in the back of her mind took root. 

Throughout the several poaching camps the girls had been breaking up, each had large quantities of potion materials. Most of the time, Poppy always suggested that they burn them to keep them out of the hands of others. Otherwise, they told Mister Pippins that they had collected them. He was rather suspicious with some of the materials, but Sloane would assure him that was the truth.

A very Slytherin truth, but truth nonetheless.

“You’re taking too long, give me that, old man.” Garreth muttered loud enough that they could hear it.

Professor Sharp scoffed, “Just wait until you’re older.”

“By the time I’m your age, I would hope that I’ve created a potion to help me not look so pathetic with a mortar and pestle.” 

Sloane and Sebastian barely contained their snickers as Professor Sharp shook his head. “I hope you don’t expect to get away with that language in class.”

“No, of course not, but I won’t miss an opportunity.” Garreth grinned proudly as he poured the powder into the cauldron. “You’re the one who said I could treat you like any other family member.”

“Don’t make me regret that,” the professor muttered.

Each blink became longer and longer. With a sigh, she gave in and laid her head on the shoulder next to her.

Sebastian stiffened at the touch, but relaxed soon after. His arm slid slowly behind her, bracing her as he supported her weight against him. His warmth spread over her. Her heart fluttered until she was mostly awake again, but she couldn’t bring herself to move away from his comfort. It’s been a long night. He’ll understand. As long as the—

“It’s done.”

Sebastian and Sloane snapped to attention at Professor Sharp’s grave proclamation. 

Garreth’s eyes shot to Amit. The older wizard’s spell held fast. He gave a resolute nod. “Amit trusts us. We can’t wait any longer.”

Their professor took a deep breath, ladling a small amount into a nearby cup. He scowled as his limp seemed to worsen in the short walk he made towards Amit. “Sebastian, Garreth.” He set the cup down, pulling out his wand.

Sloane almost grabbed ahold of his wrist as he moved away from her. Her heart pattering at the loss of heat or maybe it was more anxiety over Amit?

She held her breath as Professor Sharp flicked his wand, releasing the spell over her friend. He lunged, but both Garreth and Sebastian had a steady grip on his arms.

There were a few misses, spilling the concoction over Amit’s dress shirt. It made light purple, almost lilac, splotches as it dried. 

As soon as the professor was able to push the liquid past Amit’s lips, the aggression melted away. His body slumped against the chair, so the other boys stood straighter. Their hands fell away and Amit reached for the cup of his own volition. 

Professor Sharp wiped his forehead with a long and grateful sigh. He leaned against a station across from them. “Your theory about this being a modified Focus potion. I can’t figure out much more without more time. I am so relieved. Mister Thakkar, let’s get you to the hospital wing.”

The mentioned Ravenclaw clapped his hand over his mouth as a yawn overtook him. He smacked his lips as he nodded, absentmindedly.

As the professor walked past, he murmured, “If you could kindly clean up, I would be grateful. You all did well. I’ll speak to Professor Weasley about points and other rewards.”

Sloane’s eyes widened, but quickly recovered. “Of course, but we did this to help a friend. Not for the points.”

“Sloane.” Garreth and Sebastian groaned, eliciting a chuckle from their professor.

Once the door closed, all of them slumped with their own giggles. She couldn’t help shaking her head as she tried to come up with anything. Her mind twisted and knotted on the overwhelming amount of information flashing behind her eyelids.

“So, if I clean this up by myself, do you think the Professor will mind if I experiment a bit?” Garreth whispered as he capped the finished cauldron.

Sloane deadpanned, throwing her hands skyward. “I want no part. I’ve had enough of your potions for at least a month.” She stomped out the door.

Sebastian grinned. “You might as well take the opportunity.”

“So should you.” Garreth winked at him and nodded towards the door.

The Slytherin blinked, weariness fogging his mind until the other boy chuckled. 

“Go after her.”

His mouth popped open, but he didn’t waste another second. He stumbled into a stool on his way out. His heart clenched so hard, he rubbed the spot. This is it. This is my last chance!

Sloane couldn’t have gotten too far from the potions room! His eyes darted from the stairway to the corridor and back again. Did she use a broom?! Where is she?

A loud grumble and sigh echoed through the desolate halls to his left. When he strained his ears, he heard clattering as something skidded across the floor. A smirk rose to his face. Gryffindors are never subtle.

Regardless of his breathless search, he kept his strides even. Before he turned a corner, he made sure to wipe his hands on his trousers. A, hopefully, confident smile spread across his lips as he asked, “Long night?”

Sloane rolled her eyes from her spot on the stairs. She had thrown her heels to the floor and was curled up against the railing. She hid her legs underneath her dress. Her hair was askew as if she tried to pull it down and then gave up. Her demeanor was subdued, but her eyes shone with their normal intensity. 

He held her gaze, drinking in the attention. Her lips parted. He held his breath, hoping for her usual smart remark, but a blush flared. She turned her gaze to the hallway in front of her. “There were a lot of potion ingredients missing.”

“Mhm, I’m sure tonight had something to do with that too. What better way to distract professors than unruly students?”

“But why? There was such a variety missing. Are they selling the ingredients they don’t need? Why did they destroy some, but not others? Why students for an experiment? Who would be bold enough to disturb Hogwarts?”

“Rookwood’s people? Goblins? Things are… different now.”

Her lips pursed. She opened her mouth, but swallowed the words down before deciding on, “Yes, yes they are, aren’t they?”

Silence circled them. He was only three feet from her. He clenched his fist. She didn’t deserve to look this defeated. They had saved a friend today!

He straightened his back, bending slightly at the waist to offer her a hand. “Would you care to dance?”

“Dance?” She snorted, and he couldn’t help being charmed. “There’s no music.”

Sebastian made a show of rolling his eyes. “I don’t know any of the steps to those ballroom dances you and Ominis are so fond of. I’ll show you mine.”

Her palm slid against his, grasping his wrist as his left hand stretched to help her the rest of the way. “I think we still need music.”

Before she could complain or make another remark, he tugged her close. Her eyes widened, blush roaring back to life on her face. His fingers interlaced with hers. Skin warming at the simplest touch. He squeezed, swinging her into a wild spin and jaunt in the empty corridor. 

“Sebastian! How am I supposed to follow?!” she gasped, clinging to his arm. Her nails dug into his skin through his shirt. 

He shook his head. “You don’t have to worry about proper steps.” He relished in the sensation of her chest pressed close to his. He was close enough that his chuckles fluttered through the hair framing her face.

“I know that, but what if I step on you?” she snapped, trying to look down at their feet to no avail. 

“It won’t matter. Just dance with me, Sloane. We deserve to celebrate.”

Her stubborn mouth opened once again, but he let go of her hand to hold onto her hips. She let out a yelp, gripping his shoulders with a glare. 

The next time he spun her, her cautiousness disappeared. Her arms flew above her head as he was rewarded with delighted giggles. He joined with the chuckles of his own.

Well, until they heard footsteps and Sebastian’s grip loosened. They tumbled to the floor, the silence around them pulling even louder laughter from them. 

Sloane covered her red face, muttering, “Balls and parties would be much more fun if we could dance like that.”

Sebastian beamed. How could I have waited this long to notice her? I want her this carefree. I’ll never be able to forget this.

The pair parted ways after Sebastian retrieved her shoes. She waved goodnight, but when he glanced back at her, he caught her doing the same. A small smile touched her lips while the torchlight created a halo around her. His shoulders slouched, gazing up at her. This, this is what I’ll never forget. Merlin, she’s beautiful.

Chapter Text

Sebastian

The bathroom door burst open as he stumbled through. He rushed the sink, splashing cold water on his face. It was a dream. That’s all it was.

This was the fourth one this week. He wouldn’t acknowledge the statistic. He splashed more water on his face. His hair was dripping and his shirt was clinging to his chest.

As he examined the horror and flushed state of his face in the mirror, his mind betrayed him.

The memory of the prickling his arm felt hours after she had clung to him. His body heating, tightening. The friction of her dress against his shirt. Kissing along her neck as she giggled and sighed. Her nails biting harder into his bicep as his tongue—

The door swung open.

He whirled around, but only Ominis stood in the doorway. He breathed a sigh of relief, leaning against the sink. 

“Odd to hear you up so early.”

“I… I had a nightmare.”

Ominis hummed, taking his time to wash his hands. He paused before drying his hands. “Do you want to talk about it?”

“What? No! I mean, it wasn’t that… terrible. I just… Woke up. Might as well start the day.”

Sebastian felt uneasy in Ominis’ contemplative silence, but when he sighed, “Talking about them usually makes them feel less real. Easier to disregard later.” 

Sebastian realized that his friend was talking from experience, but not one that Ominis had shared with him. “I’ll keep that in mind,” he murmured.

Throughout breakfast, he debated if he should speak to Ominis about his ‘nightmares’. Each time a flush across his body had him second guessing himself. Would Ominis understand? My feelings for her… How could a dance do this to me?

They had been praised by Professor Sharp and Weasley for their ingenuity and quick thinking. They were also chastised for trying to take it on themselves, but with little heat.

In that moment, Sloane had beamed with pride. She shared a look with Garreth, but the one she shared with Sebastian struck him. Bright, lumscience determination and confidence shown through sparks in her eyes.

That was the first night of his ‘nightmares’. He didn’t think much of it as she smiled back at him on a broom. That same pride as they glided through the air on the same broomstick. Until she leaned back into him. His whole body lit up and he couldn’t help his arms snaking around her waist. He had to feel her closeness again.

He had woken up when she kissed his cheek.

Sebastian did his best to rationalize the dream. It was innocent. He hadn’t shared a broom with anyone but his sister or Ominis, but you had to stay close to turn and balance correctly! Anne even kissed his cheek on occasion when he impressed her.

The lingering heat on his cheeks while awake meant nothing.

Herbology was a wash. He couldn’t remember a single thing Garlick had said. He was too busy wondering if he was staring too much or too red. 

Sloane was only a seat away from him. Garreth separated them while Prewett sat on the other side of the classroom. He couldn’t even relish Prewett's defeat! 

Sebastian had gotten a dance with Sloane alone and that imbecile was outcast!

Any time he opened his mouth, he remembered other aspects of his ‘nightmares’. Where he wished his mouth could linger. The shape of her lips as she gasped. He quickly snapped it shut and stared at the potted dirt in front of him.

Lunch was similar. Anne looked exhausted, leaning against Ominis as he encouraged her to eat.

He wanted to help his sister as well, but his eyes drifted towards the Gryffindor table. He wanted to see her glow again. If he got her alone, he surely—

“Mister Sallow!” Sharp snapped. “Stop staring off into space and help your partner. Just because you were rewarded points for your valiant efforts, doesn’t mean they should go to your head.”

“Sorry, Professor,” he muttered.

Ominis’ face was marred by a disapproving and disappointed scowl. He leaned over to whisper, “You said the nightmare wasn’t that horrible.”

“It wasn’t!” he squeaked, fumbling with his ingredients. He cleared his throat a few times before asking, “Where were we?”

Sebastian knew that Sloane’s laughter wasn’t because of him. It made his chest feel hollow regardless.

As they waited for their brew to settle, he came up with a plan. 

He needed her alone again, that was what the dreams were telling him. She might have a crush on Honeydukes, but that Hufflepuff didn’t care. Sebastian cared. He cared enough to dream about her! He would call in a favor.

At dinner, under the scrutinizing eyes of his twin and best friend, he wrote a quick note. He charmed it in the shape of a moth, making sure it fluttered around Sloane’s head long enough to annoy her.

On his way out of the Dining Hall, he tripped over his own feet. When he cast his gaze down, while Anne and Ominis shared a laugh, he found his shoe laces were intertwined. With widened eyes, he searched the small area for whoever would play the prank.

Stormy, and annoyed eyes, met his excited, sage. She gave him a curt nod and his heart sputtered. It has to mean, she’ll meet me!

It was nearly eleven when Sloane appeared. He stopped fidgeting as soon as he caught sight of her. “Over here,” he called, even if she had already seen him. He loved how she rolled her eyes at him.

“So, this is what you wanted for my debt?”

He shrugged, a smirk appearing effortlessly. “Would you rather I request something more difficult?”

“I think you want to see me flounder at a fire spell. Humiliation and all that.” She crossed her arms, but made no move to leave. “Where are we going to practice? Prefects walk by here frequently.”

“I’m taking you somewhere that even the professors don’t know about.”

Her eyes brightened at the mention. His eyes caught on how she sucked in her bottom lip between her teeth. “You can suddenly apparate in Hogwarts?”

He shook his head with a soft chuckle. “There’s a secret passage over here.”

Sloane followed close behind, jittery. Her eyes locked on the clock. “Oh! I always thought it was odd to have a clock where no one could see it well. How?” She turned to him as he raised his wand.

With a flick and a swish, the clock hands twirled to midnight and the door cracked open. “After you.”

Her grin this close made him want to pull her into another dance. The strings on the second floor could be heard on this level. He could joke about having music this time to dance with her.

“Sebastian? Are you coming?” she called from down the passageway. 

“Yes!” He bolted through the door, shutting it as quietly as he could in his haste.

“Oh,” she whispered as the gate rose. “This must be…”

Sebastian raised an eyebrow, but she waved him off. He sighed, “Well, are you ready for the wand movements?”

“I don’t think this is going to go as well as you think it will,” she grumbled, but stood next to him with her eyes on his wand.

Nervousness bubbled in his stomach, but he took a breath to settle himself. 

Their practice session went much better than he thought it would. Sloane had no idea what she was talking about. 

He couldn’t help his chuckles as she struggled with Confringo . With his laughter, her frustration grew until she threw her hands up. She taunted him with the churlishness that made him want to irritate her more. He struggled with an ice hex she had been formulating.

Her laughter didn’t ring in his chest this time. It gave way to more teasing between the two of them. Harmless insults and barbs were thrown throughout their practice. Smiles never left their faces until they began to yawn.

Their carefree air lasted until they hopped out of the clock.

“Sloane?” Anne rasped, standing next to Ominis.

Ominis echoed her, but his blank eyes snapped to Sebastian with uncanny accuracy. His stare bore through his soul. “You brought her here?!”

“What are you doing here with Anne alone?! I thought we only came here together!”

“Seb—” Anne started.

“You brought an outsider! Anne has always known about this place!”

“What have you been doing with my sister in the Undercroft?!”

“I could ask you about Sloane!”

A loud cough gave pause in their argument. Both girls looked completely unassumed, standing as a pair. Sloane spoke up, “If you’re going to shout, you should probably continue in the secret-not-secret room. Anne and I can handle ourselves back to our common rooms.”

“Excellent idea,” Omins growled, stalking over to Sebastian and taking a hold of his shirt. 

Sebastian tried to maneuver out of his hold, but anger fueled the other boy’s strength. As the clock swung closed, he heard pearls of laughter echoing.

Chapter Text

Sloane

 “Then I was able to blast its arm off!” Sloane demonstrated the wand movements, smoke from their small fire enunciating her movements. “It towered over me. I’m sure it was larger than a troll, Garreth!” She beamed at her best friend as he threw a pinch of ground Bouncing Bulb seeds into the cauldron. The first trial had been difficult without Garreth, but Professor Rackam insisted she go alone. She had missed her friend the whole time.

He hummed for her to keep going. His focus jumped to another cauldron as he chopped Moondew blossoms.

“What was the most perplexing part was the memory I saw in the Pensieve.” She paused. “Isadora was an impressive person. She seemed to handle Ancient Magic much better than I can, but Professor Fig and I theorized that it was because she had professors with experience. I think he was trying to make me feel better, but I’m getting off track.

“Isadora spoke of taking pain away. If we have these abilities, why not change things for the better? Why should the world deal with pain if there’s witches and wizards that can take it away?”

“Why would we take away something that’s natural?”

Sloane pursed her lips, finding a spot on one of the less decrepit stools. Her eyes studied the room as answers swirled. The air was a mix of dank earth and calming scents. To keep the beastial plants that guarded the place at peace, he used bundles of dried chamomile and lavender in the brazier. Otherwise the space was bare of any personal touches.

When she asked Garreth for a private place to talk to him, she hadn’t expected him to bring her to the Hidden Herbology Corridor. When she saw the cauldrons and enormous Venomous Tentacula, her surprise waned. “Well, why would you argue that pain is natural?”

“Everyone experiences it. No matter if they’re muggle or magic. Even creatures and plants. It has a purpose. Wouldn’t you regret not mourning a friend?” His eyes caught hers with a raised eyebrow.

She pursed her lips, swinging her legs. “But what if mourning goes on for too long? Shouldn’t there be a solution?”

“Family and friends.”

Sloane grinned, retorting, “But what if they’re all dead?”

Garreth’s shoulders slumped and he turned with a deadpan. “I think you’re arguing for the sake of arguing at this point.”

“Caught me.” 

He rolled his eyes. “I just think that taking pain away is similar to forcing love. It’s not… right, having that ability seems easily corruptible.” He fixed her with a stern glare.

She waved her hands out in front of her. “Don’t worry! I agree with you! I think the lesson I was meant to learn was how limitless Ancient Magic can be. Yet, why would I want to go there if it means sacrificing morals? Or maybe it was as simple as: don’t use your powers to touch emotions.”

“Maybe the professor thought you would use it on Honeyduke.”

Sloane scoffed, sputtering through her sentence, “I don’t… Honeyduke isn’t even on my mind when I do the trials. He isn’t going to notice me and I’ve accepted that now.”

“So you’ve shifted to Sallow?”

“Garreth,” she whined. “Why must you be involved in my love life? Should I ask you about yours?”

“You know I don’t have one.”

Sloane gave him a pointed frown. “Then will you explain your friendship with Amit?”

“What is there to explain?” he snapped. “I can have other friends beside you and Leander.”

“I know, I know, you don’t have to say anything if you don’t want to,” she relented. Standing from the stool, she walked over to hand him a ladle that was just out of reach. “We can talk about Leander if you want.”

Garreth stirred his second potion a few times before laying it down. “You should talk to him yourself.”

She wrung her hands, turning away from her friend. “He didn’t sound like himself. He sounded like one of the men my mother told me to watch out for, but I’m… What if he wasn’t lying?”

“Would it be so bad to be married to him? You’ve been friends with him for years. You know he cares for you, which is more than some husbands, apparently.”

“I just don’t want to,” she sighed. “Knowing about my Ancient Magic, it feels like I’m meant to be more than a wife.”

With a sigh, Garreth reached over to pat her shoulder. “You’ll figure something out, but you still need to talk to him. He’s been leading Blume on for a while now.”

“Don’t remind me,” Sloane groaned. “I’m her roommate! She goes on and on about how handsome and wonderful he is. She wants to charm a pair of Quidditch goggles, so the rain doesn’t splatter on them. Why can’t she make me those goggles? I like her much more than he actually does.”

“Are you jealous of the attention Leander gets from Blume?” Garreth snickered, but Sloane threw some powder his way. “Watch it! You’ll ruin the integrity of the potions! You know the rules, Sloane.” 

She pouted and he went back to adding the finishing touches. “What are you going to do with all these?”

“I’m going to have you use this one the next time you go out on your own. This one is, well, for a Hufflepuff.”

“Who? What is it?”

“Sloane, as a potioneer, I have to have some integrity. I can’t tell you everything I do.” He was gravely serious and no amount of groaning and whining was going to change his mind. 

She huffed, “I could tell Professor Sharp, or should I say, Uncle Sharp in the making?”

“Blackmail, Sloane? That’s low.”

“Yes, it seems that maybe I should spend less time with Sebastian…” Her cheeks heated.

Her mother wouldn’t be worried about Leander. Not truly. He had some decorum. She didn’t crave impressing Leander like she did with Sebastian. Especially lately. She never had her cheeks flare and her chest tighten around Leander. She never danced with Leander like she had with Sebastian. It broke every rule her mother had drilled into her head from as early as she could remember.

Old feelings weren’t as dusty as she wished. 

Their conversation turned to schoolwork, thankfully. She moaned about Charms class, but the complaints died on her tongue when a smirk appeared on her friend’s face. She sighed, rolling her eyes. Whatever he thought about suggesting she do was lost when she brought up Amit’s potions tutoring.

He claimed that tutoring was completely different from what Sebastian would be doing with Sloane.

Their teasing back and forth continued as they snuck out of the hidden potions laboratory and to the common room. It was rather empty when they arrived, having skipped dinner by scooping up snacks as they walked. A lone figure stood on the steps to the dormitories.

“Not only do you sneak around with Sallow, but now Garreth as well?”

Sloane scowled up at Leander, refusing to be frightened a second time. “You know as well as anyone, Garreth is my friend. I… I don’t want to fight.” Her voice wavered, but she held back her tremors by clenching her hands. “I want to be friends again.”

Leander sneered, shaking his head, before he turned and trudged up the stairs. Garreth sighed heavily next to her as tears stung her eyes.

He opened his mouth to say some sort of condolences or some such, but she held up a hand. “You’re right. He needs time, but I don’t deserve to be spoken to like that.” 

Before he could reply, she raced off to the girl’s’ rooms. 

Natty looked up from her homework as Sloane shut the door, but with the grimace etched on Sloane’s face she stayed silent at her desk. She pulled her curtains closed before any of her roommates could question her sour mood.

Chapter Text

Sebastian

A week had passed by in a swish of a wand. He threw himself into his classes. It felt like the right thing to do or at least ignore what had transpired between himself and Ominis. 

He volleyed from mortified to serene. He had never expected to admit his feelings for Sloane by screaming at his best friend. He had admitted it to himself, but it was another sensation to speak it aloud.

Both Slytherins had been stunned into silence for almost an eternity. Then, all of his feelings for Sloane tumbled out.

“You don’t understand, Ominis. I need her. I find her face in every class. I hear her laughter in my dreams. I have been an idiot to ignore her. To think of her only as Anne’s friend. She is so much more than that. Stubbornly Gryffindor to her core and I can’t help wishing I could keep it all to myself!” he cried, covering his face. “I know I’m supposed to be with her. Not Prewett or, Merlin forbid, Honeyduke. They won’t understand her like I can. That’s… that’s why I brought her here. I want her to look at me.” Sebastian turned away from his best friend. The softness that had taken over his angry features was too much. “Haven’t you craved a girl’s attention before? Just once? Enough to be as big of an idiot as I am?”

The self-deprecation caused Ominis to snort. “No, I don’t think I could be as much of an idiot as you are, but why didn’t you just ask?”

“I figured you’d refuse me.”

“After such a passionate speech?”

“I hadn’t planned on that. I…” he paused, collecting his words. “I have been so caught up with her recently that I haven’t spared any time for you or Anne. My research has stalled because I lost focus. How am I meant to help my sister and have Sloane look at me?”

“You can’t think Anne would be upset at you for finding interest in Sloane? Anne would be ecstatic to hear that you haven’t been working yourself to the bone for her. The only failing you continue to have is horrible time management.”

Sebastian scoffed, “Don’t think I’ve forgotten the implications of you and Anne here alone.”

“Well, I suppose we both have blackmail. I’m sure Sloane’s mother would never let her near you again if she knew.” Ominis’ back straightened, showcasing his few inches he had on Sebastian. His gaze hardened, his tone taking on a chillier cadence than usual. “You don’t tell Uncle Solomon and I won’t write to her mother.”

“How do you even know her mother?” Sebastian snapped, stomping over to the exit.

“Anne, you need to eat just a little more,” Ominis whispered as the three of them sat clustered at the end of the Slytherin table at lunch time.

Sebastian pouted into his palm, wondering where all the patience he got for Anne came from. He swirled his soup in the bowl, ruminating on his sister’s decline. They had spoken on their way back to the common room. 

Ominis explained that he was only trying to bring her some joy. She hadn’t felt up to sneaking or her normal pranks in so long, that he thought a simple outing to the Undercroft would do her some good. That he could pretend with her that she was feeling better.

“You don’t need to mother me!” Anne snapped, hollowly. “I will eat when I feel like it.”

Ominis sighed, “I know you haven’t eaten much, please, just a little more.”

“My stomach hurts. This will only make it worse…”

“I’m sure Nurse Blainey could get you something to settle your stomach,” Sebastian offered with a small smile.

Anne shot him a glare, but before she could retort or snap at him as well, a Hufflepuff jumped onto the Gryffindor table.

One of his friends presented flowers to one of the older Gryffindors sitting at the table. When the student opened his mouth, the Great Hall was filled with the calls of song birds. With a flick of his wrist, a cape dropped from his shoulders. He made his way down the table, acting as if he was singing an opera for the girl.

To her credit, she looked completely smitten by the obnoxious display. 

Sebastian cringed. Everyone was staring at the Hufflepuff, either in awe or barely hiding their snickers.

“This is your doing, isn’t it?” Sloane had just entered the Great Hall as the song had begun.

Garreth stood next to her with a proud grin. “I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

When his eyes trailed back to the display, the Hufflepuff was pulling up his beloved to stand on the table. His bird song grew louder and higher as she took his hand, but a cough shattered the moment. Gone was the pleasant serenading. It was replaced by the loudest quacking.

Laughter boomed and roared when the Hufflepuff attempted to cover his mouth to quell the embarrassment.

Sebastian took this chance to look back at the two Gryffindors, but they were exiting the hall without a goodbye. A grin spread across his face at the two being unable to brave the fury of the embarrassed upperclassman.

“Was that Sloane I heard?” Ominis kept his voice low, a sly twitch to his smirk.

Anne giggled softly. “I think it was with how Sebastian was staring.”

“Hurry up and eat, Anne! We should get going soon!” he growled between a few bites.

Her grin was worth the bit of embarrassment heating his cheeks. 

With his twin in a better mood, she was able to finish up most of her meal with faint quacking in the background.

Later that night, Ominis and Sebastian sat near the glass. The sun had set long ago, the only lights in the lake were faint and mysterious. They were alone in the common room, everyone else having taken an early night on this Wednesday.

“What should I do to get her to notice me more?”

Ominis’ eyebrows raised. “What makes you think I know anything?”

“You gloated that you could never be as much of an idiot as I am. Shouldn’t I ask for your advice?”

“You’ve never taken it before.”

“I have. Once… or twice.”

“Sebastian,” Ominis sighed, “From what Anne tells me, she looks at you differently than the others she spends time with. What has shaken the confidence you had before?”

“There’s a difference between knowing we're meant to be together and convincing her of it.”

“I think you’re overthinking. There’s no reason for you to do anything different. Be yourself and she’ll see you better than anyone else. It’s up to her to decide if you’re worthy.”

Ominis was the first to leave, yawning a good night as he made his way to the dorm. 

Sebastian stared out into the water, wondering if being right was the same as being worthy. If she knew what he dreamed about, would she ever want to be alone with him? Did she, possibly, want the same things? He swallowed, fixing his uniform before rushing to the bathroom. He uttered a short prayer that he would be alone.

Chapter Text

Sloane

“I think it’s time.”

Poppy shook her head. “Just because we haven’t had too much trouble at the smaller camps, doesn’t mean we won’t have trouble here. There’s too many variables.”

Sloane scowled at the rebuttal, grumbling, “Like what?”

Natty was studying their map, silently listening to the other two. 

The total of camps destroyed had continued to climb, regardless of their studies or darkness that happened on All Hallow’s Eve. Their tactic of releasing creatures, while firing spells worked beautifully. They were artists correcting mistakes on the landscape.

“I’ve been in Hogsmeade a few times to gather seeds. Everyone is talking about Ashwinders. What happened at the ball isn’t an isolated event. Arn told me there was a similar story at Hogsmeade’s celebration. Except it was goblins instead of students. I also have a feeling that things have been too easy.”

“How can the wizards making all these illicit concoctions be that intelligent? They couldn’t do anything else with their lives, so they chose crime.”

Poppy shook her head, crossing her arms. “No, all of this takes quite a bit of intelligence to maneuver and keep under the radar of the Ministry. My parents didn’t start out as poachers, but eventually needed more money. It could be the same thing for Rookwood.” Her eyes flickered to Natty for support, but the other witch stayed silent. “Furthermore, there’s too many tents. We have no idea what could be inside. This is the largest camp by far, so there’s potential that this might be where buyers pick up. It’s going to be the most heavily guarded. And if it’s not, it’s where they’re creating all their potions.”

Tension rose in the silence, until Sloane sighed, “You’ve made good points. We need to do more research before we take it on. Natty, what are some of the other camps we can hit?”

While Natty began pointing out the camp rumors she had heard and collaborated with Poppy’s, Sloane stirred some of their potions. 

Something about the camp sitting close to the first Keeper’s trial didn’t set well with her. It gave her the same prickly feeling that she had when Amit broke out of his bonds. Why would poachers be so close to that tower? Is it a coincidence or something more? Her Ancient Magic wasn’t revealing any answers. She wished that she had a better control over it, so she could possibly seek better solutions.

But Sloane felt that she would have to go to Professor Onai. The professor would want answers and that might bring her too close to their secret activities. Natty was already anxious about her mother predicting something to do with the Room of Requirement, but nothing had come up.

Professor Fig could only theorize about her Ancient Magic studies. 

The Professor Rackam wanted her to focus on her training, of course, but would attempt to put a stop to their anti-poaching activities. 

“Deek is proud of how many potions you’ve brewed.” The house elf popped out of one of the vivariums with a large grin. 

Sloane nodded. “Thank you. It still doesn’t feel like enough.”

“Deek is sure you’ll figure it out. Look at all you’ve done here.” 

He wasn’t wrong. While Poppy and Natty had focused on gathering various supplies to map and catalog the highlands, Sloane had practiced her transfiguration extensively. She took notes from gothic architecture from a family vacation to France. She had let Natty and Poppy decide on the rich purple adornments she created throughout the space. Some of the paintings they had saved from the poaching camps were encouraging and others always tried to push for caution.

Off to the left, Natty and Poppy kept an indoor garden, bathed in sunset. They had tried to keep it in the vivarium, but the Fwoppers like to nest in the pots. They lost quite a few harvests of dittany because of those silly birds. 

Sloane treated the garden as their personal room. She let them have their privacy, appreciating that they reciprocated for her room on the right. While she kept the purple flowing into her area, Poppy and Natty had transformed their room into a golden and ruby haven. Their area was bright and welcoming. Hers seemed to have a more foreboding air to it with towering bookcases and lacking personal touches. 

She had transfigured a single long table that she spread out her various research topics. It ranged from more advanced transfiguration to any mentions of Ancient Magic. One could see how successful her research was going by the pile of books and papers.

When the Gryffindor and Hufflepuff meandered to their side of the Room, Sloane followed suit. She sat in a plush armchair. She hadn’t planned on staying in the Room after they had their discussion, but she didn’t want to return to the common room.

As much as she wanted to join the Quidditch team at the beginning of the school year, it was losing its luster. Everything else in her life felt more important than the sport. Transfiguration class wasn’t as fun anymore because Anne continued to struggle more than she had ever before, but Sloane had to keep improving to keep herself alive. Her twin felt equally like a waste of her time and a beautiful distraction.

Before she could fall farther down that thought spiral, she rubbed her face and stood up. There was more reading she needed to get done before the rest of the students in the common room would go to head to their dorms.

The next morning, Sloane laid in bed, staring up at the canopy of her bed. She listened to the other girls going about their morning routines. She had stayed out late enough that she had to sneak back into the common room. The Fat Lady didn’t approve, but there weren't any Professors around for her to tattle to. 

When she finally stepped out of bed and made her way down, the common room was mostly empty. Garreth eyed her from the table he was playing Wizard Chess with Leander, but said nothing as she continued to walk. Her stomach twisted, wishing for the mornings where she could step over to their table and comment on the game.

Sloane meandered the halls, her stomach rumbling after she got too lost amongst the stairwells and paintings. She sighed, taking a moment to study her surroundings, but as she did, Sebastian stepped out of an adjacent hallway.

Pixies ravaged her stomach as his eyes lit up. Time slowed as the joy blossomed on his face. Freckles shifted to make room for a wide grin. Her teeth gnawed on the inside of her cheek. He moved too fast, closing the distance between them in an instant.

Her memories of their dance made her shift on her feet, but she couldn’t show any other nervousness. Not in front of him!

“I’d like to ask you a favor,” he chirped, standing barely a foot from her.

“Excuse me?”

“A little one, nothing you should be too anxious about.”

Blinking, Sloane sputtered, “That… that encourages my anxiety.”

He shrugged.

“I won’t agree to a favor if I don’t know what’s happening.” She crossed her arms.

It didn’t deter the Slytherin. “I would like to show you something tomorrow. I’d need you for your whole Saturday.”

Shock had her dropping her arms. “That hardly sounds like a favor,” she mumbled, wariness and excitement making her voice waver.

“Aren’t those the best kind? It didn’t feel like a favor to sneak into the library with you.” He leaned a little closer. “What do you say?”

His mischief was infectious. It glittered in his eyes and sharpened his smirk. Sloane pursed her lips. “Half of a Saturday. I have some Transfiguration homework to finish up.”

He snickered, “Fine. Whatever you say, Sloane.” He gestured down the hallway, offering to walk her to the Great Hall.

She took a step forward, Sebastian at her side. She shifted her bag to her other shoulder, so she could stand a little closer. He didn’t seem to notice. Or preferred it that way as well.

Sloane ate breakfast with the Slytherin trio instead of her two Gryffindor friends, but it brightened her. Anne was having a good morning, laughing and eating between quips. Sebastian had unapologetically taken the seat next to her. Her face heated each time his leg brushed up against hers, but thankfully his twin didn’t tease her.

Maybe she would allow him her whole Saturday. Maybe.

Chapter Text

Sebastian

“Are you having fun?” Sloane called without opening her eyes as she easily gilded through the fog.

Sebastian couldn’t take his eyes off her. If he crashed into a tree, seeing her like this would be worth the injury. Her grin was impossibly wide. Her hair disheveled, making him a little jealous that he hadn’t done it himself. And, damn it, she was wearing trousers again. He knew that she could transfigure them herself, so why did she keep them so tight?

“Well?” Her eyes opened with a smirk, catching his open mouth staring.

“Of course,” he blurted, “What gentleman wouldn’t love being alone with a lady?”

Sloane’s head flew back as she cackled. “Has Ominis been training you in manners? Goodness. Does Anne know about your rakish tendencies?”

“It’s only ‘rakish’ if I travel the countryside saying the same thing to every lady that crosses my path. Like Honeyduke.”

When her lips twisted into a pout, then scowl, he wondered if he went too far. Each second in silence that ticked by, tightened his grip on his broom. “I suppose that reasoning is sound. I haven’t seen you around too many other witches. Honeyduke has quite a flock, doesn’t he?” She leaned back on her broom, slowing. “Regardless, what I really want to know is this favor I’m helping you with. This seems much less treacherous than sneaking into the Restricted Section.”

“But, as I said, I get to be alone with you.” He smirked, pulling a few feet in front of her before turning back. “I’m not going to ruin my surprise. I still have to convince you to spend the day with me since, apparently, my request was negotiable.”

“You’re laying it on rather thick.”

“That doesn’t mean it isn’t working.” 

His heart leaped at her shy smile. She shrugged, turning away as she muttered, “Where are we going, Sebastian?”

“Well, since you seem so impatient, I should hurry this up, shouldn’t I? Try and catch me, Miss Frazier.”

Gray and green flew past him. Pine needles prickled his cheeks as he whizzed in between trees. He didn’t have to look back to know Sloane was hot on his trail. Whether it was magic or his own obsession, he had become more attuned to her presence.

The night before, he studied his map to the Merlin Trail he wanted to show off. They were nearing the snowfield he had scoped out a few days earlier on a less than allowed off-grounds trip. A perfect place for them to spend the afternoon figuring out a puzzle together. Plenty of time for flirting and—

Something hit him like a bludger. No, worse! It completely threw him from his broom. His eyes stopped on a head of starlight. “What are you doing?!”

“You weren’t supposed to fall off the broom!” Sloane screamed. “ Accio! ” But her broom kept flying for a few more feet before stuttering to a stop. “ Accio broom!” she cried again, but it did nothing.

He secured one arm around her waist. Then the other, tucking her head beneath his chin. He muttered, “ Circueo.”

His outer cloak exploded, surrounding them in magical padding. His heart shuddered as he waited for impact. Would this be enough? How could she be so stupid?!

As his thoughts spiraled, they bounced against the ground. Snow flew back into the sky around them. His cloak quickly deflated, leaving his back cold and Sloane’s weight on top of him.

Sebastian stared up at the gray sky. There was shifting in his arms, but he held tighter. His hands were trembling. He was… terrified. Even knowing that he had a sure way to make sure that he would never be hurt falling off a broom, he was terrified. The thought of losing her…

A snicker. Then laughter erupted from the girl in his arms. His grip slackened.

“Sebastian! That was amazing!” She popped up, staring down at him as her hair framed her face. “Is that a charm you created or did you have it added? I should get that on my Quidditch robes. Maybe a few other sets just in case.”

“Amazing?!”

She blinked, watching him warily.

“Do you think before you act? If that was anyone else, what do you think would have happened? How could you assume that I wouldn’t fall off a broom?” He glared at her. There was a flicker of guilt in his gut when he saw hurt flash across her face, but it was hidden quickly enough. “Just because you’re a Gryffindor, doesn’t mean you have to try to get yourself killed!”

Sloane grit her teeth, sneering at him. “Oh, yes, throw my house in my face again.” She stood, stomping through the snow before he could himself.

“Do you have any self preservation?”

“It was a joke gone wrong, why are you making this bigger than it needs to be?”

“You could have died! You couldn’t Accio your own broom! What would have happened if I wasn’t here?”

Sloane rolled her eyes. “I would have figured something else out. This isn’t the first or last time I’ll fall off a broom.” 

His chest heaved, but he was slowly able to gather himself as Sloane became more sheepish. He wiped a hand down his face. “Why are you so reckless?”

“It’s only reckless if I can’t fix it.”

“Do you understand how cocky you sound?”

“Look in a mirror, Sebastian.”

“Ha!” Escaped him before he crossed his arms. His faux bitterness brought a smile to her lips. As he stared at her wind swept hair and red cheeks, his anger and fear dissipated. “Please don’t do that again.”

“Yes, yes. I’m sorry for scaring you.” She waved a dismissive hand as she took a moment to survey the field. “So you wanted to show me some vases?”

He strode over to her. “No, but it is a part of what I wanted to show you.” He did his best not to look too disappointed. He had hoped for a more challenging puzzle for them to work through, but he could figure out other things to occupy the rest of their Saturday.

“How did you find this?” 

“I was trying to find more information on Merlin and I ran into someone who was doing the same. We figured out the first puzzle to get a clue to the next one. After a few she decided to leave it in my hands while she researched elsewhere.” He adjusted his stance, making sure that he was centered. “ Incendio. ” 

The snow steamed around him, revealing a familiar circle of stone. Sloane’s lips tilted upwards. The guilt that lingered, followed the snow skyward. If he could make her smile like that, she must have forgiven him. He opened his mouth to apologize for snapping, but she spoke first, “What’s the next step? What do you get out of doing these challenges?”

Pixies ravaged his chest the closer she came with the curiosity lighting her eyes. Her attention was all of his. This is what he needed ever since their dance. He straightened his back, taking on aspects of his father. An educator’s air. “Well, I brought some Mellowsweet with me. We haven’t figured out why Merlin cared so much about this plant, but I’ll figure it out eventually.” He hoped that his smirk, reddened her face instead of the chill, but he couldn’t get too distracted. “Usually, there’s another clue to the next puzzle, but sometimes there are notes left by Merlin.”

Sloane stood next to him. He licked his lips. He could close the gap between them, bumping shoulders. She had already been in his arms, how could touching shoulders be scandalous after that? Yet, the clueless Gryffindor bent down to examine the stones. He sighed inwardly, but let her curiosity roam. 

“Why Merlin? You’ve never shown interest in him before.”

“During his time at Hogwarts he was becoming the first Cursebreaker. To combat Slytherin’s son.”

Her eyes shot back to him, having to steady herself on the stones in her haste. Her mouth opened and closed a few times before she turned her gaze away. “You’re doing this for Anne.”

“Of course.”

“Well,” she started, standing. Determination creased her brows and fierceness shining in her stormy eyes. His breath caught, wondering how this could be better than her blush. “If you ever need assistance, I’ll see what I can do.”

“Excuse me?” He shook his head. “You want to help?”

“Why wouldn’t I? We can always split research or take turns traveling to suspected spots. The faster we get his notes, the better it’ll be for Anne, right?”

Sebastian pursed his lips. Is this how the imbecile Prewett feels? Stupidity is disgusting. He nodded, muttering, “I would love your help.”

“Let’s get to work then!” she cried, raising her wand. She eyed his pockets. “Hurry, we might be able to finish a few before we return to the castle!”

His spirit swelled. This is what Ominis was hinting at. He could help Anne and spend time with Sloane. Time that Sloane would set aside for him. He wouldn’t be cooped up in the library, raising his sister’s concerns. 

A blaze rose beneath his skin. Sloane would realize this was where she was meant to be in no time.

After completing several challenges that had only led to others, they decided that they would try more another day. Sloane needed to stop in a small hamlet to check on something before they returned to the castle.

As soon as her feet touched the ground, she was skipping through the snow over to a small man.

No.

A goblin.

“Arn! How are you?” she called with a joyous wave.

Sebastian caught her other arm, yanking her back. “What are you doing?”

“Arn is an artist! I’ve bought a few of his paintings after—”

“He’s a goblin,” Sebastian snapped, tugging her a few steps away from the creature. Hurt washed over its face, but thankfully it stayed close to its cart.

Sloane’s expression twisted through emotions too rapidly for him to discern. Until it ended in fury. “What are you implying about my friend?”

He snorted. “He’s not your friend. What did I say about being reckless?” His lips turned upward, showcasing his dimple.

“Yes. He is my friend.” She said through gritted teeth, yanking her arm away. 

He blinked at her strength, but chuckled. “Sloane,” he warned. “You can’t actually believe that.”

Lightning crackled through the strands of her hair as her fists clenched at her sides. “I’ll find my way back to the castle, alone.”

“Don’t be like this.”

“I should say the same to you! What do you have against Arn of all people?”

“Goblins cursed Anne! They were there that night! They’re dangerous.” Her eye roll had him gnashing his teeth. “They’re trying to rebel against wizardkind and you want to be friends with one?”

“Not every goblin is evil. Just like every wizard isn’t good.” Her posture straightened, a rigidness coming into her movements.

His eyebrows furrowed. “I’m trying to protect you.”

“Go back to the castle, Sebastian. I’ll be perfectly safe with Arn.” Her words held a bitter chill. A blizzard stood in front of him and his fire couldn’t banish her disappointment.

He opened his mouth to rebuttal with a noise or a word or anything, but she pointedly turned and marched to the creature. When he let out a frustrated growl, only the goblin watched him take his broom and disappear into the sunset.

How could a witch of her caliber be lowering herself to the creatures that hurt Anne? Anne must have told her about it! 

How could… How could today turn out like this?

Chapter Text

Sloane & Sebastian

“Prewett and Honeyduke would be too full of themselves to interrupt your interests like that. An aloof husband would provide the same security and privacy. Sallow is too interested and self righteous to let you live your life how you wish. I don’t blame you for being interested, he’s a handsome boy.”

Sloane leaned her chin into her palm as Poppy nodded along with Natty’s wisdom. 

They sat atop one of the craggy outlooks in a new vivarium. Waves crashed below, accentuating each blow to Sloane’s resolve. 

Originally, she wanted to go to Anne to help straighten Sebastian out, but when the Slytherin started talking about how excited she was for the Yule Ball, Sloane couldn’t ruin her good cheer.

“But I want to help him. I want him to understand that his stance on goblins is archaic. He should be more open minded.”

“Key word, should,” Poppy grumbled. “He’s a boy. He’ll never admit that there’s something else equal to him. I’m happy you’re learning this early in the relationship. What else could he be hiding?”

Sloane sighed, knowing that no matter how much she defended or showed curiosity in Sebastian, the other girls wouldn’t have it.

But were they truly wrong? She always felt, even if her friends were incredibly stubborn, that they heard her more. 

She would focus on the poaching camps. That was more important than silly drama with Sebastian.

Sebastian swung his baton with reckless abandon. The match was against Hufflepuff. His anger and a slip of guilt morphed into a desperate need to knock Honeyduke down. 

Sloane hadn’t so much as looked at him in a week.

Sweat dripped into his eyes regardless of the chill in the air. The sting made him think of how Sloane had glowered at him. His mind reeled over how reckless she was. Has she always been that oblivious? 

Another swing. He was going to grind his teeth to dust at this rate, but at least Imelda would get her victory. 

Why had Anne not told her about those goblins that had been there that night, but revealed the curse to the rash Gryffindor?

Winter break was approaching. He had a feeling she would leave to see her family for the holidays. Which meant that she would be back on the day of the Yule Ball. It left him no time to… to what? Convince Sloane of her foolishness?

His baton connected with a bludger with a sickening crack, sending it towards a Hufflepuff’s broom neck. Splinters exploded, the impact throwing the player backwards and off their broom.

He swallowed, bombarded with what could have happened to his Gryffindor. The whistle sounded with his team’s Seeker’s hand held high, gold glittering between their fingertips.

Sebastian hardly listened to any compliments. His head was buzzing. How can he go from being in so much awe over Sloane’s beauty to wanting to shake her? 

As he stomped out of the changing room towards the castle, his heart lurched. Sloane was laughing with a gaggle of Gryffindors, including Prewett. He widened his strides, almost sprinting to get ahead of them.

“Are you impressed with how well I clobbered your precious Honeyduke?” he sneered.

For a moment, the Gryffindors stood in befuddled silence eyeing each other, until Sloane straightened, eyes darkening in her fury. “What do you think?” she snapped, barely above a whisper as she brushed past him.

When he returned to the common room with Prewett’s smirk blinding him, he had no energy to celebrate with the rest of his team.

“For the foreseeable future, any excursions off castle grounds are relegated to Professor approved only.” The Headmaster raised his hands to silence the groans of the students. “I will not have what happened at our previous ball tarnishing the Yule Ball. If you can conduct yourselves in a manner that fits the high standards of Hogwarts, then I might be convinced to change my mind.”

Sloane slowly looked to her right. Natty’s gaze met hers. Her fellow Gryffindor raised an eyebrow, pulling a smirk to her lips. 

Poppy had decided to return home for the holidays which left plenty of time and privacy for the two to devise a plan to hit a poaching camp Sloane had seen on her way to Map Chamber. The Hufflepuff couldn’t stay mad if they knocked out one of the largest camps by themselves. Especially as a Christmas gift from the two of them.

There were rumors that The Ministry was, finally, sending Aurors to help with the recent criminal activity. There was no way that the trio was going to hand in their notes and wipe their hands. They had worked too hard. Too long. The adults felt like it was nothing, but the students had known it was important.

They can start their investigation from scratch while Natty and she finish their work.

“Sebastian!” A long string of curses followed his best friend’s exclamation. 

It didn’t stop him from flinging another Serpdias into an unassuming crate in the Undercroft. The flame snake engulfed the crate in its maw. The fire roared until Ominis flicked his wand, spraying it down with water.

“What are you doing?!”

“I was trying to perfect a new spell.”

“By destroying as much of the Undercroft as you could?”

“What else am I to do? She will barely acknowledge my existence! You said I only had to be myself and look where that’s gotten me?! Miserable.”

Ominis deadpanned, running a hand down his face. “Well, then maybe you weren’t right about being with her. You showed her something she didn’t like. Maybe it’s better to find out no—”

“Of course you would say give up! It’s not as if you’ve ever been in love!”

“Is this truly love if it’s only one sided?” Ominis sighed, “Anne was wondering where you were at, so you know why I’m even here. Maybe turn your focus to your sister once more?”

Sebastian scoffed. “Oh, yes, keep giving me such great advice.”

Ominis left without another sound. 

He exhausted himself so much that on his way back to the common room, Victoria caught him. He didn’t try to come up with a clever excuse, but his shrug and silence must have shocked her enough to forget to dock him points.

“I was able to convince Garreth to make me a hefty supply of Wiggenweld, so I didn’t have to waste time here. I told Professor Fig that I was interested in some of the ruins, so I was able to get off the castle grounds. Here’s the map I transfigured.” Sloane laid out her findings on a table of the main room of the Room of Requirement. 

Natty stood to her left, examining. “This is extremely detailed. Good work.” She grinned at her partner with pride.

“Thanks, how did it go with your mother?”

“Easy,” she laughed. “Apparently, Headmaster Black is extremely paranoid about this ball. Even more so than he was showing students. There will be some teachers stationed around the castle to make sure no one is getting in, but not so much for those trying to get out. He thinks that alumni snuck in on All Hallow’s Eve.”

“Then why did the caterers end up dead?” Sloane rolled her eyes as she sighed, “No one will be watching the Divination Tower?”

“No, he hasn’t thought of someone leaving by broom.”

“Ridiculous.”

“He always is! But,” Natty’s grin widened. “We meet here while the ball begins and come back before it ends?”

With a resolute nod, Sloane linked arms with her. They shared a merry walk into the Great Hall to feast like queens.

“Sallow, I don’t think you’re old enough to drink.” One of his upperclassmen snickered as Sebastian held out a hand for a drink from his flask.

His hand held firm. “I’d rather Slytherin quality drinks than whatever the Gryffindors will throw in the punch.”

The group shrugged, passing it to him. The warm liquor burned down into his stomach, but flooded his mind. He wouldn’t need to worry about Sloane. She was doing whatever she wanted, so he could as well.

“Sebastian?” Anne called from the entrance to the boys’ dorms.

He winked at the group of boys before swaggering out towards his sister and best friend. “You look amazing. Where did you get that dress?”

Anne looked barely better the last few days before the Yule Ball. This dress showcased it. Snow fell every time she twirled, decorating her hair and lashes with shimmering snowflakes. Her hair was held up by pearls combs, gifted to her by Ominis for Christmas. Her gloves brandished Slytherin green with frost accents. He grinned until she admitted, “Sloane! She was able to transfigure a plain gown into this. Then Natty charmed it to snow!”

He did his best, but Anne was easily able to spot his flattering joy. “You’ll talk to her again, she can’t stay mad at you forever. You could apologize for whatever you did.”

“I didn’t do anything wrong!” He snapped with little heat. 

His twin raised her eyebrow when he crossed his arms with a childish air. Ominis swept in with a short glare towards Sebastian, before taking Anne by the arm. “Leave him. He’s only going to ruin the night with his attitude.”

Sebastian had yet to smooth over their argument from a few days ago. There was a part of him that didn’t care that Ominis was acting like this and the other part that felt like he deserved more.

The pair allowed him to walk with them regardless.

Over the last couple of weeks, doubt had crept into his mind. Foreign as it was unwanted for Sebastian. It kept its tentacles tangled tightly around his chest. Doubt about if Sloane was meant to be with him if one mistake would ruin their relationship forever. Doubt about how Sloane could be right about… the goblins. Doubt that he could ever fix any of this.

When he glanced at her during class or meals, a toxic mix of emotions arose. Especially when Prewett would catch him. He wanted to wipe that smirk from existence. His eyes stung with anger. His hands itched to rip his hair from his scalp.

How could that imbecile, of all people, return to her good graces? Surely trying to force her into marriage was more egregious than what Sebastian had said!

It wasn’t fair that Prewett was making her laugh in his stead! His jokes cou—

“Garreth, I need to speak with you. About Sloane.”

His joints locked up. Ominis and his sister didn’t notice. They continued into the Great Hall as he pressed himself up against the railing. Below him, Garreth and Poppy Sweeting pulled away from the tidal wave of Gryffindors raucously entering the corridor. 

“She told me she wasn’t feeling up to going to the ball. Something about Natty being ill as well…” Sebastian had to strain to make out the words. 

He crouched, pressing harder into the stone to listen to Sweeting’s swift murmurs. “I shouldn’t be telling you this, but I’m desperate. Natty, Sloane, and I have been—”

“Going after poaching camps and whatever else. Sloane alluded to some of your extracurriculars,” Garreth drawled, keeping his head on a swivel without looking up.

“Excellent. I had hoped she would trust you over Prewett. Anyway, they’ve gone after one tonight by themselves.”

“Bloody hell.”

“Yes! We were supposed to prepare for much longer before taking it on. The camp is giant with all sorts of variables, but they went anyway. Without me…”

“Fucking typical,” he snapped as he threaded both of his hands into his hair. “Why can’t they pull normal Gryffindor stunts? What do you suggest we do? If we talk to Professor Fig, I’m sure he could help. I know he knows a little about what she’s been doing as well.”

“No, no, no. No professors! We’ve been doing this for ages and none of them… I don’t think he’d let her continue if he knew. We’ve burnt down several camps, this isn’t just about letting the creatures free. We’re trying to destroy their whole operation. Especially since Natty started to suspect that they might have been a part of All Hallow’s Eve.”

“None of that was a suggestion of what we should do!”

Sebastian took this opportunity to stick his head through the railing with a quick whistle. The pair’s eyes shot upwards, horror shining in their wide eyes. “I think you need a damn good duelist.”

Sweeting scowled, but Garreth’s face lit up. “Excellent. What about Ominis?”

“No, too much rule breaking for him. Anyone else?”

“No! You shouldn’t have been eavesdropping!” Sweeting’s expression turned steely, but eventually she sighed. “But it seems that we don’t have a choice. This will have to do. We get them out of that stupid camp and back to the castle before anyone notices!”

“Meet me outside the Herbology greenhouse in ten minutes .” Garreth met Sebastian’s gaze, then Sweeting’s. “I have a few things I can grab that might just give us a chance.”

Chapter Text

Sebastian & Sloane

Many of the wizards and witches watching the gate and surroundings of the poaching camp were drunk or well on their way. Patrons were about the same, standing in front of a large, off-yellow tent. A broad wizard stood next to the opening with his arms folded as an elegant woman took payments before letting them into the largest tent.

The pair of Gryffindors kept silent as Natty concentrated on casting Obliteration on their footsteps as they searched for an opening. With the snow blanketing the tree branches, they didn’t hear the roar of the main tent until they passed through a gap in the wooden palisades. The sides of the tent stretched and strained as something inside pushed against the magical boundaries. 

Neither witch could discern what creature, but gave the area a wide berth. In their small diverting, they found a less crowded entrance. A single lookout.

Natty held out her hand as Sloane reached for her wand. Instead of reaching for her own, she swept her hand upwards, wiggling her fingers with a barely audible, “Somio.”

If Sloane hadn’t known better, she would have assumed the sparkles raining down on the wizard were snowflakes. When one brushed the tip of his nose, he let out a long yawn. He scooted on his barrel, tucking farther into his winter clothes.

“Disillusionment,” Natty murmured.

Gray eyes widened with pride, following her friend’s lead into the opening. 

The interior seemed fathomless. Natty and Sloane’s mouths hung open at the sheer amount of cages. Magical creatures hardly had room to turn around in their containers. Fur laid on the ground from them rubbing against the bars too vigorously in their anxiety. 

A shudder ran down Sloane’s spine. Revulsion and rage turned her stomach.

“Aye!” Someone called from farther in the tent. “Greengrass is here to pick up his Nifflers! Where are the white ones?”

They crouched behind an unmoving crate, watching the dark wizard stalk over to a cage to their left. “Stupefy!” he repeated as a few heads popped up, trying to escape. Sloane covered her mouth as he tossed three white Nifflers into a burlap sack. He marched out, the bag barely wriggling.

When she looked over to her partner, Natty’s fists were clenched at her sides.

“These are like the men that murdered my father,” Natty snarled quietly as she turned. “We have to destroy this place. They are harming everything that they look upon.” Her eyes watered as she took another look around the room.

With a resolute nod, Sloane pulled out her wand. “Where do you think we should start? Ripping the fabric will cause a magical breakdown. I’d rather not find out what that looks like being a part of one.”

“There!” Natty pointed to a Hippogriff standing alone in a pen. One of its hooved legs chained to the ground and they had bound its wings. “We take the time to get the hippogriff on our side and we’ll be able to make a quick escape after we release the other creatures.”

Poppy’s knowledge had certainly rubbed off on Natty, but it wasn’t overly surprising. She reached for her friend’s hand as they approached the gate.

Natty must have cast a wordless Alohomora, pushing open the gate with ease. A chill ran up Sloane’s spine. Her heart pounded the closer they got to the creature. Magic bit at her skin, making her hair stand on end.

“We both have to bow,” Natty whispered out of the corner of her mouth once. 

A rumble from deeper in the tent almost knocked them off balance. Something shimmered in front of them as they regained their balance. Natty audibly swallowed as a crack in the hippogriff formed. Dark blue magical energy shined through each crack as they splintered.

Sloane tightened her hold on Natty’s hand, tugging her away from the anomaly in front of them. But when they reached the gate, it was no longer the same. 

It towered above them, magic radiating on the opposite side. On the outside.

Theophilus Harlow leaned against the enclosure, his back to them. The pinnacle of pride. 

“Well, lookie here. Victor was wrong about how stupid Gryffindors were.” He paused, swinging his foot out and around to glare down at them, “You’re much worse. Where’s the last one? We know there’s three of you. If you tell us, we’ll make sure not to overdo the memory charms.”

Natty straightened, chin tipping upwards. “You’re not going to waste time on memory charms for us.” Her tone was cold, but so confident. “You don’t scare us.”

“Oh, what a pity. I’m sure my troll will though.” His eyes flickered over their heads. “Crush them and I’ll give you three cows,” he called.

The two witches wheeled around, faced with a twenty foot tall, armored mountain troll. 

“Want four!” it roared, dashing forward with its club over its head.

“So in between Quidditch and schoolwork, Sloane has been taking on poaching camps? Messing around with the Ashwinders?” Sebastian shouted over the wind at Garreth as Sweeting guided them with a small red lantern hanging from her broom. For someone he had never seen show interest in Quidditch—least of all brooms—Sweeting streaked through the sky. 

After a long pause, he thought that maybe Garreth hadn’t heard him, but as he opened his mouth to ask again, the Gryffindor shouted back, “Among other things.”

“What do you mean?”

“She deals with you doesn’t she?”

Before Sebastian could correct Garreth, Sweeting dived into the forest without warning. The two boys fumbled, but were able to catch up to her as she stepped off her broom effortlessly.

They crouched behind a tree as a cacophony of screams echoed through the trees. To their left witches and wizards dashed to the perimeter of the camp, apparating. Loud crashes were muffled by fabric, but shook the ground. 

“What is going on?” Garreth whispered, but Poppy wasn’t paying attention. Her sole focus was studying the wooden wall around the camp. 

He eventually turned to Sebastian, who shrugged.

“We have to get in there. Something isn’t right.” Poppy brandished her wand, stalking closer to the wall as the boys trailed behind. “The scheduled fights should still be going on.”

Once they spotted a gap in the wall, Sebastian cast Disillusionment on all three. They only took a couple of steps before an armored mountain troll burst out of one of the tents, howling.

When Sebastian took a step forward, two figures ran out of the tent, shooting a “Gelus!” and a “Depluso!”

“Natty!” Poppy cried, breaking away from the two boys.

Sloane’s head whipped around at the noise, eyes widening. “What—”

“You think you’ve done anything?!” A wizard wearing a bowler hat stalked out of the tent. Red lightning crackled from his wand tip as he screamed, “You bloody children think you can hurt us? I’ll show you pain you’ve never known!” His wand arm swung back.

He wouldn’t cast an Unforgivable on a student, would he? He’s just trying to scare us. Sebastian reasoned for a moment, but he recognized this wizard. Harlow from Rookwood’s gang. Adults in Hogsmeade had whispered he’d cast a memory charm on himself to forget his conscience. He’s going to torture Sloane…

“Accio!” Sebastian cast desperately.

Harlow was faster. Red shot from his wand, shooting towards his Gryffindor. Towards Sloane. He was too late.

Out of the darkness an odd-looking deer leapt, the curse slamming into one of its hindlegs instead of Sloane!

“No!” Poppy shrieked, racing towards Natty, who now lay prone on the ground where the deer had been. She cast a series of basic casts towards Harlow, but he easily deflected them.

He sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Must you ruin everything, Sweeting Brat? Let me try—”

“Throw your wands on the ground!” A booming voice shook the camp. “If you do not comply, we’ll use deadly force!”

Ten or more Aurors appeared on the tops of tents, gate posts, and throughout the camp

With a roll of his eyes, Harlow flicked his wand, sending a spinning red ball towards a barrel. The Aurors fired all at once in hopes of stopping him. But in the flash of the explosion, the dark wizard vanished.

As soon as the ringing in his ears faded, he and Garreth rushed over to the girls. Only to be stunned by Poppy’s wail, “Natty! Natty, please wake up!” She clung to her friend, burying her face in her shoulder. “Please,” she sobbed, muffled by the Gryffindor’s clothing.

Aurors dashed around the campsite, stunning any remaining gang members, while a few tentatively made their way towards the group of students.

“Where’s Sloane?” Garreth grabbed his shoulder, tearing him away from the horror in front of him. “I don’t see her!”

Sebastian scanned the area, trying to ignore the adults getting closer to them with pitying faces. His eyes flickered from tent to tent, looking for her hair, robes, anything! 

Trees shook in the distance, distracting some Aurors. The two young wizards shared a short look before sprinting towards the opening in the wall.

“Wait! Come back here!”

Neither cared what the adult was shouting. If there was trouble, that’s where Sloane would be. They stumbled through the deep snow, gritting their teeth at the freezing temperatures until they caught a glimpse of spell work. “It has to be her!” Garreth pointed in the direction of another flash.

“Where is he?! Where did Harlow go? Tell me!” 

Instead of a witch or wizard, Sloane was shouting at the armored troll. It had no bloody clue what she was talking about as it swung again and again. Its frustration grew with each miss, Sloane spiriting away in a dash of silver wind each time.

Instead of dallying like before, Sebastian raised his wand, growling, “Accio!” Sloane lifted into the air, whizzing away from another troll attack over. She floated for a moment before dropping into his waiting arms. He stumbled slightly under the shift in weight, but stayed upright. 

“Let me go!” she snarled, pushing out of his arms so hard that she flopped to the ground.

“You aren’t battling another troll! Let’s go! The Aurors can take care of it,” Garreth snapped, reaching for her arm until lightning began to crackle between her finger tips.

Her hair floated above her head, magic charging in the air. “He won’t get away with this!” She thrust her wand in the direction of the troll, but instead of turning it to ash like last time… A chicken clucked in its spot. 

“Bloody Ancient Magic! You can’t do that so close to others!” Garreth snarled, tugging on her arm toward the incoming Aurors.

Sebastian watched as the chicken flopped and flapped through the snow, its beady eyes trained on Sloane. One of the Aurors stood next to him, asking questions or some such, but the ringing in his ears was back.

Not only could Sloane Frazier disintegrate armored trolls, but she could transfigure them into a non magical creature. This was the answer. Whatever this Ancient Magic Garreth was mumbling about was it. This would change everything. There was no doubt in his mind that this would cure his sister.