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Sixth year. August.
———
Have you ever seen the hell in someone’s eyes and loved it anyway? I have. I even watched as he extinguished the life of another, and still, I loved him in that moment.
Perhaps that says a lot about me, but I’m also not the hero I’m portrayed to be. The praise from everyone after Ranrok’s demise wear on me. They don’t know the lengths I have gone to in order to protect myself. They are not there to witness me whipping a wizard to the ground, a sharp crack cutting through the air as his neck breaks on impact.
But how am I to tell them that the person they see me as doesn’t exist? And if I were to tell them the truth, would that tarnish Fig’s memory?
I’ve heard both students and townspeople talk. There’s the praise:
“She’s remarkable, isn’t she? Fifteen and brought down Ranrok.”
“I heard she aided in sending Rookwood to Azkaban.”
“After the troll attack, we should’ve known we had a savior in our midst.”
And then there’s the other side:
“Now I’m not saying it’s true, but I heard that the girl left a goblin camp in shambles. I’m all for stopping the goblins, but at what cost?”
“I heard she brought in the spiders that took over Aranshire.”
“She has the makings of a dark witch."
I don’t l blame them. Their thoughts usually mirror my own. I did dabble in dark magic. I not only was open to using dark magic, I was intrigued by it.
Therefore, it’s fitting that I’ve fallen in love with someone who also has a darker side. Because Sebastian has done dark things. The killing curse is said to rip a part of your soul each time it’s used, and last year I watched as he slowly lost himself to the Dark Arts. By the time I realized he needed to get out of the hole he dug himself into, it was too late. I was there to witness a piece of his soul rip, but I understood how he got to that point.
So yes, I love him. Desperately so. But how could he ever fall for someone like me? I didn’t use the killing curse, but I do feel my soul rip every time I end a wizard or goblin’s life with more...creative means. At least Avada Kedavra is quick. Casting Depulso until someone bleeds out is not.
Yet I would do it again. I’m less messy than I used to be, at least when it comes to ending someone’s life, but when it’s life or death you do what you need to do.
Or maybe that's just what I tell myself so as not to sink further into the abyss.
Either way, I've lost count of the lives I've ended. Sure, most of them were horrible wizards and goblins, but does that truly matter? A life is a life, no matter how dark their soul is. The bottom line is that I am tainted. Ruined. A shell of the person I almost was. Who could ever love me in such a way? At least not as I am in this lifetime.
I am a monster and I'm sure Sebastian sees it too. It doesn’t matter, though. I have no idea where he is.
“Evelyn, would you mind clearing that table by the fireplace?” Sirona asks as she approaches. “That rowdy group just left.”
I look up and notice the mugs covering the table, some tipped over amongst clusters of peanut shells. “Sure,” I say and grab a clean rag off the counter before making my way to the back of the room.
It’s late and only a few people linger as they finish their drinks. I half listen to the soft conversations as I gather the mugs to one side and start wiping the table down, the warmth of the fire at my back.
Despite the monotonous work, I really do enjoy working at The Three Broomsticks. Sirona didn’t have to take me in but she’s a kind soul. Far kinder than I deserve. It was the end of last year when I was sitting at the counter with Poppy, talking about where I was going to live for the summer. It’s not like I had a home to go back to anymore. And even though Professor Weasley offered me a room to stay in in the castle, where I’d be taken care of by the house elves, I wasn’t sure that was a good idea. As much as I love Hogwarts, I needed time away to grieve where I wouldn’t be alone to wander the halls with only my memories for company.
Poppy offered to spend the summer with her at her gran’s, which honestly sounded lovely. But I didn’t want to be a burden. After everything that’s happened, I’m not sure if I’d be a proper guest for the Sweetings.
As we were discussing logistics, Sirona overheard and offered me a job. I really don’t think Sirona needs the extra help, but I’m not about to complain. She conjured a bed for me in the room at the top of the stairs, added a lock, and gave it to me no questions asked.
I’m truly lucky for the people I’ve met since I started at Hogwarts. I haven’t always been blessed with the best people in my life, not even my own family, but somehow I made friends here. And I’ve met people like Sirona who not only gave me a job to earn my own money, but a place to live. For the first time in a long time, I feel I have agency over my own life. Luckily, the wizard world seems to place more value in women than the muggle world. Not by much, but enough so that I can earn my own wages without a fuss.
And so, I’ve tried to heal. But I didn’t anticipate it being so difficult on my own. I didn’t account for the nightmares, the flashbacks, the panic attacks where I struggle to breathe and attempt to resist clawing at my own skin. Which sounds morbid, but it does ground me - watching my nails dig into my skin and the marks it leaves behind.
A flash of green.
Even now, I stare at my arms and fight the urge to scratch.
Fig’s empty eyes.
I wouldn't be obvious about it, I only need that feeling for just a moment.
A thud as Sebastian’s back slams into the wall. Terror in Anne’s voice.
There's no longer a dirty table in front of me, all I see is -
Blood pooling into the grass at my feet. The groan of the inferi shuffling closer.
My nails bite in the palms of my hands.
My screams as I’m hit with the Cruciatis. A goblin slitting its own throat.
I can feel the skin begin to break.
The cries from the hippogriffs being tortured. Blood spewing from a poacher’s neck. Screams as fire wraps around their skin.
If only I had something sharper to get me away from this.
A loud crack as the carriage rips apart. The nauseating crunch as the dragon tears George in half.
I’ll take it - anything to get me away from the images that haunt my every waking moment -
Solomon.
But I deserve this - I deserve this madness -
Lodgok.
I failed them and I deserve this -
Fig.
I deserve to -
“Evelyn.”
I blink and everything floods back into focus. The warmth of The Three Broomsticks washes away my memories. The soft lull in conversation amongst the patrons slowly weans out the screams echoing in my head.
My heart slows.
I unclench my hand.
I breathe.
I look up at Sirona standing a few feet away. She takes me in. She knows I’ve had…issues. I haven’t talked about them, but I can tell she takes notice.
“Someone’s here to see you,” she says. “I’ll take care of the rest here.”
I look back down at the half done table. “Oh…are you sure? I don’t mind finishing.”
She nods with a smile. “Yes, go on up. They’re on the second floor.”
I hand her the cloth. “Who?”
“You’ll see,” she says with a corner of her mouth tilting up. So secretive, she is. But I guess I am too.
I raise my eyebrow at her. She takes the rag and steps around me. I tilt my head and look upstairs, trying to see who’s there, but it looks empty from here.
Wiping my hands on my apron, I walk across the room, nod at Parry Pippin and Mr. Ollivander as I pass, and make my way up the stairs. It gets quieter as I go higher, the steps squeaking beneath my feet. I reach the second floor and look around, not seeing anyone. Maybe they’re on the third floor?
I approach the next set of stairs when I hear, “Evelyn.”
I freeze with my hand on the bannister. That voice.
Sebastian.
I look over my shoulder and see a silhouetted shadow in the small alcove. The blue windows illuminate his figure leaning with arms crossed.
I turn and slowly walk over, butterflies in my stomach. The closer I get, the more details I can make out. His hair is unkempt and messy. He’s in a simple white shirt and slacks that I’ve never seen on him before. As I enter the alcove space, he unfolds his arms and stands up straight, shifting a little as if he's nervous.
Merlin, I haven’t seen him in months. I’ve sent countless owls and not once received a response. I’ve spent nights worrying about where he is, if he’s holding up at all, if he found Anne. I’ve had nightmares of the look in his eyes when he lost everything. I constantly think about his last words to me at Hogwarts before he disappeared, wondering if I could have said something different. Ominis and I spent days looking at possible places he could be. I’ve cried over him. I’ve shattered glass against the wall in frustration over him. I’ve been so angry. I imagined what seeing him again would be like; the harsh words I would say to make him see how hurt I am that he left without a word.
But standing here face to face…I realize I have no anger. He looks like he hasn’t slept in ages. There’s dark bags under his eyes, no charming smile on his lips, even his posture is slumped. He fidgets with his hands and looks at me nervously. This is a far cry from the Sebastian I first met.
Regardless, he’s alive and right in front of me.
Sebastian opens his mouth to speak but I immediately step forward and wrap my arms around him. I hear a small “oof,” having caught him off guard, but I squeeze tighter and tuck my head into his neck.
He doesn’t hug me back at first, but eventually his arms circle around me.
“I missed you,” I whisper.
I feel him hold me tighter and lean his head against mine. I hear what he’s trying to say.
I missed you too.
———
Despite holing myself up in my room for the summer to suffer through my manic moments, I really do like my room. I don’t have to worry about waking anybody up when I burst out of bed from night terrors. Plus I can come up here to decompress when walking around the village becomes too much.
Butterbeers in hand, Sebastian and I are sprawled in the two chairs in front of the fire. My legs hang off the armrest closest to the fire, the warmth seeping through my stockings. I anxiously bounce my legs as I sip my butterbeer, peering over at Sebastian.
He looks so small, which is saying something since the chair isn’t that big. He stares into the flames, lost somewhere else, untouched drink in his hands. My heart breaks for him. I really did try to find him. Eventually Ominis and I gave up, running out of places to look. We realized maybe he needed the time to himself. We avoided talking about the very real possibility that Sebastian could be dead. As someone who’s seen countless dead bodies, it’s not hard to envision Sebastian’s face on one of those lifeless corpses.
Looking at him now, I wonder if I should have pushed myself harder. He’s clearly not doing well. Maybe if I wasn’t so weak at controlling my emotions I would’ve found him. How many times did I spend in this room when I could've been out looking for him?
Sebastian suddenly blinks out of his trance and looks over at me.
“So you’re a barmaid now, huh?” He says as he takes a drink. All casual like, as if he wasn't just staring at nothing for several minutes.
I shrug, playing along. “Just for the summer. Sirona was kind enough to give me a job and a place to stay.”
“A place to…oh.” He looks uncomfortable as he leans back and swipes a hand through his untidy hair.
“Yeah, didn’t really have anywhere to go. Besides stay at Hogwarts of course. Last year I thought maybe Fig would…” I trail off, regretting going down that path. I resist putting my hand to my heart to calm the physical sensation of my heart clenching. It's both harrowing and fascinating how emotional pain can manifest physically. And perhaps Fig's death really did cause a hole to appear on my heart.
At some point during the year, I started to see Fig as a father figure. Frankly, a much better one than my actual father. Presently I realize I should not have seen him as such, but that’s what I do, I latch onto people. Maybe it’s because I grew up so secluded, but even starting at Hogwarts I did my best to help others out as much as I could with a desperation to be liked.
It’s all a bit pathetic when you really think about it. The lengths I go to for normalcy. I could’ve easily been taken advantage of. Well…I was to a point. But luckily I found people who made me feel like I was part of a family. Hogwarts became the home I never really had. And for the first time I had someone like a father who genuinely cared about me.
“I’m sorry,” Sebastian says softly.
I look away from his penetrating gaze and take a sip to distract myself.
“I…” he starts.
I look up and see him staring at the rug between us, eyes dancing as if the words he’s searching for is woven in its threads.
“I haven’t been a good friend to you, Ev, and I’m sorry. I didn’t even think about your living situation.”
“Well, you did have a lot on your mind.” I attempt a smile.
He shakes his head. “That’s no excuse.”
“Sebastian,” I say in a tone that makes him to look at me. “It’s ok.” It really is. I don't expect anyone to take care of me.
He’s silent. I can tell he disagrees.
“I just…” I start, “I’m glad you’re ok.”
He forces a small laugh. “That's one way to put it.”
“You know...right now I’m too happy to see you again to be angry with you, but I want you to know that I am," I say. "Angry with you, I mean.”
His eyes search mine. “I know.”
“Did you get any of my owls?” I ask, trying not to sound desperate.
“All of them.”
Well…ok, maybe I do have some anger on hand. “And you couldn’t write me back? If only to tell me you were ok?”
He’s quiet.
I sigh. We sit in that awkward silence for a moment. I'm not sure I have the energy to get into that, so I attempt to change the subject. “Did you…” I trail off, not knowing if now is the right time to ask with him looking so down, but I need to know. “…did you find her?” I ask hesitantly.
Sebastian draws out a long sigh. “No.”
I finger the fraying edges of the armchair. “I’m sorry.”
A silence grows between us, the crackling of the fire the only sound in the small room.
“I looked everywhere,” he says staring into the fire. I watch as the reflection of the flames dance in his warm irises. “I kept moving, traveling from town to town. I have no idea where she’s gone...if she’s even alive.” His voice cracks at the end as he rubs at his face.
“I looked too,” I admit. Sebastian drops his hand from his face, surprised. “But I couldn’t find any trace of her, I’m sorry.” I should’ve tried harder.
“That’s…no, Evelyn, don’t be sorry. Thank you for trying. Really.” He gives me a soft smile, it’s barely there, but I see it. I release a breath. If he can smile, then there’s hope for him...right?
“Are you going back to school?” I ask, nervous about his answer. I can’t imagine what classes would be like without him. What my home would be like without him.
“Yes,” he says. “Only because I’ve run out of options. Though I did meet this bloke in Irondale. Turns out he’s a cursebreaker."
"Cursebreaker?"
"It’s a Ministry job. I...I thought about becoming one. Maybe it could lead me to finding a cure for Anne."
“Sebastian, that’s an amazing idea!” I say, visibly brightening. It really is. Not only could it actually lead somewhere, it’ll give him something to focus on.
He shrugs. “Yeah, I guess so. But I need to finish at Hogwarts in order to apply. Which means I'll need to hold off on my search..." he trails off for a moment. "I am in touch with him and he’s researching in the meantime, but it would be better if I had Anne to meet him…” he trails off again.
“Everything’s a mess,” he whispers.
I nod, swirling the bottom of my butterbeer in the mug.
“Enough of that. You only mentioned living in Hogsmeade briefly,” he says, altering the tone of our discussion. “What’s it been like?”
“Oh, so you actually read my letters?” I say jokingly.
“Of course,” he says sincerely.
“Well,” I start, trying not to blush, “It’s been nice, actually, I’ve gotten to know some of the locals and for the first time in my life I have my own income. I think this was the best place for me to…rest after everything.”
He leans his head into the palm of his hand and studies me. “And have you rested?”
“Some days it feels like I have,” I say. I pause and debate on leaving it at that, but before I know it I keep talking. “Other days…it’s hard for me to get out of bed, I’ll admit. Sometimes it’s too easy to stay up here and forget about everything.” My lip trembles and I blink back tears. Sebastian probably sees it though. He’s incredibly observant.
“To be honest,” I continue, “I haven’t felt like myself. Last year I don’t think I had a spare moment of my own." I haven't talked out loud about any of this, and now that I've started, I don't now how to stop. "I don’t think there was even a small period where I wasn’t thinking about how to help Fig, or you, or Poppy, or Natty, or even focus on school work that I was so far behind on.” I feel myself speaking faster and faster. “Not only did I lose my parents, I had to watch my aunt refuse to take me in, I stumbled into this world of magic and catch up on years of schooling. And Professor Fig, Merlin, he was so kind and understanding. He would always check in and reassure me that he was with me every step of the way during those stupid trials. But in the end…I….I failed him." I choked out a breath. "He died because of me, because despite everything I did, I wasn’t good enough. I couldn’t save him, I couldn’t save Lodgok. I failed and I kept failing -“
“Hey, hey.” I blink myself into awareness, taking a deep breath of air, not realizing I wasn't breathing properly. Through my blurry eyes I see Sebastian kneeling before me. His rough hands cradle my cheeks, wiping away the tears that I can’t seem to stop from falling.
Pathetic. I'm pathetic.
“Evelyn, listen to me,” he says gently, leaning forward a bit so I’m forced to look into his eyes. “You did not fail. No one’s death was your fault -“
“No," I shake my head. "You don’t understand -“
“Listen to me,” he cuts me off forcefully. “It was not your fault. You did not fail. You did everything you could, Ev. You’re the strongest, brightest witch I know. You pushed yourself to help others even when you didn't need to. Hell, you even put up with me even though you should have abandoned me long ago.”
The tears don't stop. I clutch onto his hands and choke back a sob.
“I’m sorry. I’m sorry.” I’m sorry I’m making you listen to me break down. I’m sorry you have to see me like this. I’m sorry I couldn’t save Anne. I’m sorry I didn’t find her. I’m sorry I pushed you further into the Dark Arts out of my own greed. I’m sorry I put a wedge between you and your best friend. I’m sorry I’m crying when you clearly need someone to be strong for you. I’m sorry.
Sebastian offers me reassurances but they’re muffled. It's hard to hear them when all I can hear is my own voice talking back at me:
Weak.
Pathetic.
Failure.
I gasp as I’m suddenly lifted into Sebastian’s arms. I grasp his shirt, marveling at his strong, secure hold. He walks across the room and gently lies me down on my bed. He sits down next to me and brushes my hair back from my wet cheeks. Merlin, I must look a mess. I wipe at my eyes and take deep breaths, trying to force myself to calm down. It’s something I’ve gotten good at the past few months. Well, relatively good at. Not like I had any other choices. At this point in my life, I’m used to figuring it out on my own.
He continues stroking my hair as I attempt to get myself under control, embarrassment running through me. I don't want anyone to see me like this, and yet here I am laying it all out to someone who doesn't need to shoulder anything else. It's the selfish part of me, I know, but I didn't realize how much I craved this.
Eventually, my breathing slows. My face feels damp but at least there are no more tears. I can see better now and I watch as Sebastian mutters things like “I’m here,” and “You are not to blame."
His words are nice, but I don’t believe them. Even so, this moment with him calms me. There's a halo outlining his form, illuminated by the fire behind him. I focus on that. I focus on the feel of his hand on my head. I focus on his gentle words. And I feel safe. I've always felt safe with him. As soon as we met, we became fixtures in each other's lives. That's why his disappearance affected me so much. But being close to him again and feeling safe, I can feel myself becoming present again.
And although I know what’s lurking deep inside me, all the darkness and negativity, for now I can pretend everything is alright. For now I can pretend that he's here to stay.
I close my eyes and take in his fingers sliding through my hair. We spend a few more moments like this. Eventually his hand stills, and he pulls away to place it on the bed as he leans forward.
“It’s getting late,” he mutters, “I should probably…”
As soon as I feel him start to get up I open my eyes and grab his sleeve. He looks down at me, surprised.
“Please stay,” I say softly. His eyes widen a little and he takes a moment to respond. I don’t blame him, after all this is highly inappropriate. And I'm trying to not be a selfish person, but the idea of him leaving now that I finally feel safe is causing my chest to constrict.
Sebastian nods. I shuffle back to the wall, trying to give him as much space as I can. He leans down and takes off his shoes before sliding onto the bed, facing me.
I almost laugh at the idea of someone coming in and finding us in a bed together. The scandal. But that's the beauty of this room, several floors up on it's own floor. No one comes up here. For now, this is our safe haven. At least, I hope Sebastian is feeling similarly to how I'm feeling. The safety, the warmth, the comfort.
“Thank you,” I whisper.
He offers me a small smile and scoots closer. My heart tugs at the movement. The firelight casts a warm glow over his body. We take a moment to just look into each others eyes. This beautiful, chaotic boy. He’s always stirred feelings in me.
My heart is racing yet I feel completely relaxed. What a bizarre feeling.
“I’m sorry,” I tell him “I didn’t mean for that to happen.”
“Evelyn,” he says, “You never have to apologize for that.”
I give a small nod, albeit reluctantly.
“Sometimes my head is a mess,” I admit softly.
“Mine too.”
I heard of this theory from old muggle classmates of twin souls; souls who always find each other in each life. The idea was always ridiculous to me, but after meeting Sebastian, someone who I immediately felt a connection to, I wonder if there's some truth to that theory. It's a lovely thought, if anything. More so because if that is the case, and miraculously Sebastian and I were twin souls, then we'll have other lifetimes where we can try again. Maybe in another lifetime I wouldn't be this shell of a person.
“I’m sorry I wasn’t there for you,” he says.
“Don’t be. I don’t blame you.”
“Still, I don’t like that you had to deal with these thoughts yourself.”
I attempt a half shrug. “I’m used to it, Sebastian.”
His eyes suddenly look sad. “You shouldn’t be. I don’t want you to be.”
Without thinking I cup his cheek. No one has ever said anything like that to me. I want him to know how much those words mean to me. How I grew up with parents who didn’t care, who were only concerned about making sure I was pretty enough to be married off to someone wealthy. I couldn’t go to them for anything. I didn’t care for any of the people in our social circles, so I didn’t have any friends. I was a disappointment despite knowing how to play the piano, and dance, and carry a conversation.
But it still wasn’t enough. It’s never enough. I’ve always been surrounded by people yet always felt alone.
Until last year, when I entered a world I thought was only in fairy tales.
Until I found people who cared about me. Like Sebastian.
His skin is soft beneath my fingers. I trace some of his freckles.
“I’m happy you’re here,” I say. It’s not enough, but maybe someday I’ll be able to tell him in words how much he means to me.
“I am too,” he says, his eyes crinkling a little in the corners. There’s a warmth to his eyes whenever he looks at me, even though he’s seen hell. He’s been to hell. He’s caused hell. Yet I’ve never felt safer than I do with this man.
We fall asleep soon after, his chin tucked into my hand that lies on the blanket between us.
We both get lost in our first dreamless sleep in months.
———
In a small town on the coast lives an abandoned hut. There’s not much inside; an old fireplace filled with cobwebs, a dirty bed, and a desk in the corner covered with parchment. A quill lies forgotten next to an unsent letter.
Evelyn,
I need you to know that reading your letters have brought me the only joy I’ve been able to have since I lost Anne. They keep me company on the nights that are especially hard. I wish you were here. And knowing you, you would’ve been. You’re like that, always putting yourself before others, even for those undeserving of such kindness like me.
I find hope in the fact that you’re still sending me letters. Though lately they’ve gotten pretty snarky. Especially when you said, and allow me to quote, “If you don’t reply I will hunt you down, feed you to the giant squid, and watch as a herd of mooncalves dance on your grave in the moonlight.”
So vicious for a Hufflepuff. But I like that about you.
I long to see you again. Please don’t stop sending me letters. I’m not sure when I’ll be ready to face the world again after everything I’ve done, but when I do, you’re who I’m going to first.
Yours,
Sebastian