Chapter Text
"I wonder how I got by this week. I only touched you once. Started with a little bit, now I don't know how to quit. Always feel inadequate."
Void - The Neighbourhood
"What class do you have right now?" Sebastian asked Scarlett as they finished their breakfast in the Slytherin common room.
She brushed biscuit crumbs from her cloak and slung her bag over her shoulder. That morning, they had taken over the entire coffee table, spreading out parchment with assignments Scarlett needed to submit to Professor Weasley. Her extra lessons with the faculty were beginning to pile up.
Ominis, meanwhile, had seated himself opposite Sebastian, pointedly remarking that he was grateful he couldn't see, as it spared him the displeasure of looking at him. Scarlett pretended not to notice the sudden tension between them, avoiding any comment on their bickering.
The day before, shortly after dinner, the three of them had spent time in the common room playing wizard's chess and discussing all the secrets Scarlett might uncover at Hogwarts. At some point, Ominis let slip that Salazar Slytherin had supposedly created a secret chamber in the school. Sebastian, furious that such information had never been shared with him, became adamant about finding the place. Ominis, however, refused to divulge any further details, and the conversation ended in an argument.
"Apparition," Scarlett answered, eliciting a dramatic groan from Sebastian.
"And you?" she asked.
"History of Magic," he grumbled.
Scarlett grimaced. She had always detested History of Magic, particularly because of Professor Binns and his notoriously dull lectures, which were worse than a Draught of Living Death. Most of what she knew about magical history came from her mother's books, and she considered herself lucky to no longer be required to attend those lessons.
"Why didn't you take Apparition as well?"
"For twelve Galleons?!" Sebastian retorted, as though the suggestion was utterly absurd. "Only if I had money to burn. Besides, I already know how to Apparate—Solomon made sure to teach us so we wouldn't have to pay for it."
"Unfortunately, not all families are as generous with their time," Ominis interjected tersely. "Shall we?"
Scarlett glanced between the two, sensing the rising tension. She sighed. "Let's go..."
The three ascended the stairs leading out of the common room, walking briskly. It was just shy of eight o'clock.
"Brunch?" Sebastian called out before veering off toward his classroom.
"Brunch," Scarlett replied, a playful smile tugging at her lips.
"Fine, fine. Brunch," Ominis grumbled.
Sebastian smirked—not at Ominis and his surly mood, but at Scarlett, whose expression reminded him of the mermaids painted in the Great Hall's stained-glass windows.
With a quick glance to ensure the corridor was empty, he acted on impulse. Leaning down, he pressed a silent, fleeting kiss to her lips.
Scarlett's eyes widened, her face flushing with heat. She opened her mouth to protest, but no words came. Ominis, already tugging her by the arm, seemed entirely unaware of Sebastian's audacious move.
"You two friends are even more irritating now than when you hated each other," Ominis grumbled.
"S-Sebastian is a good friend," Scarlett stammered, blinking a few times and clearing her throat. Embarrassed, she felt a strange, icy sensation in her stomach, suppressing an inexplicable urge to laugh. "How long are you planning to stay mad at him?"
"I'm not mad at him," Ominis retorted, clearly fuming. "This insane idea of his isn't good for anyone, and I refuse to encourage it. Anne told me what happened this weekend—it's about time he stopped."
"But he won't," she replied, her tone sharp with a hint of defiance, drawing his attention. Ominis raised a brow at her. "I know you want Anne back as much as he does."
"I—I..." Ominis pressed his lips together and exhaled sharply. "There are other paths he could take."
"Any path to curing Anne is a valid one."
"No. Not every path," he corrected firmly.
"Do you think it's fair that she's still locked away at home?" Scarlett's incredulous tone mirrored her growing frustration. She hadn't expected him to be this unyielding.
"This isn't about fairness, Scarlett. I'm trying to protect Sebastian," Ominis snapped, his patience visibly waning.
"She misses Hogwarts, Omi. She misses you!"
"She does, yes, but that doesn't change the fact that she doesn't want to see me," he stated plainly, the words sharp and bitter. "She forbids me from visiting Feldcroft, yet she welcomes you."
Scarlett swallowed hard, the weight of his words sinking in. There was nothing more to say; she couldn't argue with the truth. She didn't understand why Anne kept him at arm's length, physically distant, while continuing to respond to his letters. It felt needlessly cruel.
The two walked in tense silence until they reached the Apparition classroom near the greenhouses. The room was unremarkable—a large, empty space devoid of furniture, its tall windows allowing natural light to flood in. It was the only location on the grounds where the school's anti-Apparition enchantments were lifted. Scarlett set her bag and Ominis's down in a corner, and they leaned against the wall, waiting for the instructor to arrive.
Melanie Abernathy strode into the room with an air of brisk efficiency. Her long blonde hair and kind features contrasted sharply with her firm, no-nonsense voice. She didn't seem particularly patient and looked as though teaching teenagers was a form of punishment. Yet, Scarlett appreciated her straightforward teaching style; it made her feel less incompetent.
"Let's pick up where we left off in the last lesson," Melanie announced, tossing her moss-green coat onto a small side table. "Everyone to the right side of the room."
The room filled with murmured conversations and the sharp clatter of shoes against stone as the students moved to line up against the right-hand wall. Some were visibly anxious, while others appeared far too confident. Scarlett, still frustrated by her dismal performance in the last class—when she hadn't managed to Apparate even once—was feeling increasingly suffocated by her own ineptitude. She almost preferred the idea of splinching herself to the embarrassment of another failure.
"Just focus on the Three Ds, Sky," Ominis whispered beside her. "Destination..."
"Determination and deliberation," she muttered in response, her gaze fixed on the brass ring on the opposite side of the room. "I wish it were as easy as you make it sound."
"You must be entirely focused on reaching your destination," Melanie's voice echoed through the empty space, commanding attention. "Move with determination, but without haste, and act with deliberation."
It would be a lie to call it an easy lesson. A Ravenclaw splinched her hand and had to be rushed to the hospital wing, sending Scarlett into a panic and forcing her to reevaluate her earlier thoughts about preferring splinching to failing altogether. Seeing the blood trailing along the floor and her classmate's torn fingers was far too much. It was only in the final minutes of the lesson that she managed to perform the spell—but she missed her intended target and materialised directly on top of Ominis, knocking them both to the floor in a heap. The resulting wave of laughter echoed through the room, including from the two of them.
"Next time, Miss Callaghan, focus more intently on your destination," Melanie said, stopping beside them and regarding Scarlett with an air of hauteur. Her piercing blue eyes were intimidating in their intensity. "Good progress. Class dismissed."
Scarlett nodded, brushing the dust from her now-filthy uniform in an effort to mask her relieved smile. Ominis gave her a light shove, and she quickly helped him tidy himself up.
"Sorry..."
"Better me than Violet," Ominis muttered, and they both clamped their hands over their mouths to stifle their laughter.
"I'm heading to the library to return some books. See you in the Great Hall, alright?" Scarlett said, pulling off her cloak and shoving it haphazardly into her bag.
"I could come with you," Ominis offered.
"Nah, it'll just take a second." With a loud, smacking kiss to his cheek, she hurried off towards the door.
Her heart was racing, buzzing with a nervous energy she tried to ignore. She wanted to pretend she didn't know why, but she absolutely did. It was pure euphoria. Every time Sebastian's face drifted into her thoughts, the feeling only grew stronger. She smiled to herself as she strode briskly through the corridor, eager to reach the Great Hall. She was thinking too much about him—his scent, his kiss... Those copper-coloured eyes fixed on her, his smile, his covert touches. A shiver ran down her spine.
Anne was wrong to think Scarlett fancied him. She didn't, she was certain of that—but there was nothing wrong with enjoying his company, the way he kissed her, the conversations they shared, or the time they spent together. It wasn't anything serious. And if it ever was... perhaps it wouldn't be so terrible. Perhaps letting things run their course, wherever they might lead, wasn't such a bad idea.
She turned into the corridor lined with statues that were always squabbling, the wind tearing the leaves from the trees in the courtyard outside. Her path was meticulously planned: drop off the books at the library and rush to brunch. She pushed open the heavy wooden door and stepped into a hallway that felt unnaturally empty and dim for the time of day. It was always dark in this part of the castle—the sparse sconces provided little illumination, especially after emerging from a sunlit corridor. But still, something felt off.
A loud clanging of metal startled her, the familiar racket of the two armours fighting in the adjacent hall. They always managed to frighten her. She huffed, adjusting her bag on her shoulder, and quickened her pace with a growing sense of urgency.
Then she heard it—a faint whisper.
Before she could react, everything went black. Her vision was swallowed by an all-encompassing void, and the excitement in her chest morphed into sheer terror.
Her body was lifted by a Levioso. She was sure of it from the weightlessness she felt. Panicking, her hands frantically searched her waist for her wand, but the unmistakable sound of an Accio pulled it away from her robes.
"Stop! Put me down!" Her high-pitched voice didn't falter, though it carried an undeniable tremor.
There was nothing in her vision. Even as she rubbed her eyes with force and blinked furiously, she remained engulfed in absolute darkness.
"I'll make you pay for this!" she threatened, struggling mid-air in a desperate attempt to hit anyone close enough.
Voices echoed around her, sinister laughter filling the space, offering no clue as to who they were. The more she flailed awkwardly in the air, the louder the laughter grew. She despised the sensation of being suspended, dreading the moment she might suddenly drop. A door creaked open, and then her body was hurled against a wall with jarring force, her head colliding painfully. The Levioso ceased, and she slammed onto the cold floor. Her belongings were tossed in after her, followed by the sharp click of a lock turning.
No, no, no, no.
Scarlett crawled across the floor toward the door, pounding against it with all her strength.
"LET ME OUT!" She scrambled to her feet, kicking the door forcefully.
The sounds outside had vanished—no footsteps, no voices, nothing. She pounded the door a few more times before the memory of her wand struck her. It had to be there somewhere.
Breathing heavily, she knelt on the floor, her hands fumbling over the cold, dusty surface. She didn't want to cry, but the tight knot in her throat burned, and her eyes stung as hot tears spilled down her cheeks. Brooms, buckets—she found her bag—but her wand was nowhere to be found amidst the clutter.
Her breaths came shallow and rapid, her chest felt heavy, suffocating. Memories of Sirius locking her in the dark closet when they were younger surged back. She wasn't afraid of the dark. She wasn't. But she was terrified of being alone in it, trapped. The mocking laughter on the other side of the door, the endless minutes spent imprisoned until someone intervened—it all came rushing back.
Her trembling hands wiped at her eyes, the salty sting of tears making her corners burn. All she wanted was to see. She pounded the door again, her voice scraping her sore throat.
"GET ME OUT OF HERE!" She kicked the door as hard as she could, her strength waning. "Please... just... please..." Her voice broke.
She let her head fall against the old wooden door, her breath shuddering. For a fleeting moment, the fury she felt toward whoever had done this turned inward. She couldn't stop the thought—it was inevitable: if she were like everyone else, this wouldn't have happened. She wouldn't have lost those cursed points. Everything would be fine.
The sound of a lock turning broke her spiral, and the door creaked open.
"Scarlett? What are you doing in here?"
"Garreth!" She gripped his waistcoat desperately, her eyes darting, searching for anything amidst the suffocating void. "I-I... they threw me in here... I don't know who it was, I can't see anything—please help me! Is anyone there?"
"Calm down, Sky!" His hands steadied her by the shoulders. "Finite!"
It felt like opening her eyes to the sun. Her vision returned all at once, flooding her with clarity, though the relief of seeing again far outweighed any discomfort. Without hesitation, she threw her arms around Garreth, her nose catching the fresh, citrusy scent of his cologne. He returned her embrace, his hand soothingly stroking her hair as he tried to calm her. She could feel her heart pounding and her uneven breaths brushing against his neck.
"Thank you, thank you!" she murmured, her voice trembling. "What spell did they use on me?"
"Blinding jinx." He gently pulled back, cupping her face with both hands. His palms were far softer than Sebastian's, and his thumbs brushed the tears from her cheeks as she took a deep, shuddering breath. "It became popular for pranks last year after Ominis used it on Duncan Hobhouse from Ravenclaw."
"O-Ominis?" She could hardly believe it. The thought of her calm and composed friend casting such a spell was baffling.
"Duncan used to make jokes about Ominis being blind." That explained everything. "But why did they lock you in here?"
"The house points... We lost some because of me." She reached for her bag on the floor, scanning the room until she spotted her wand beneath a broom in the corner.
"That's no excuse for this." Garreth's brow furrowed with indignation.
"Let them know," she sniffled, wiping the rest of her tears on the sleeves of her blouse.
Garreth straightened up and offered his arm to her.
"Come on, I'll escort you safely to the Great Hall. And you can sit with Gryffindor—I promise nothing bad will happen." His warm smile and gentle eyes were reassuring.
This time, Scarlett accepted the offer without hesitation. Garreth had always been good company, and after what had just happened, the idea of walking alone wasn't appealing. She slipped her hand into the crook of his arm, and together they headed toward the library. Scarlett returned her borrowed books before they made their way to the Great Hall.
"So," he began hesitantly, "how are your studies going? Need help with anything?"
"I think I'm managing. I'll be speaking with Professor Weasley after class today. I'm a little nervous about the tests, but... I'd like to believe I'm learning something."
"The first tests aren't too difficult—not compared to the end-of-term exams or the N.E.W.T.s next year. If you need help with Potions, we could study together. I got an Outstanding on my O.W.L. last year, so I know all the potions we'll be tested on. I'm just... perfecting a few of them now. My Draught of Living Death is still a disaster."
Scarlett let out a soft laugh, and the sound seemed to lift Garreth's spirits. He puffed out his chest slightly, covering her hand on his arm with his own and giving it a light, reassuring pat.
"I think I might take you up on that. Professor Sharp seems to like me, and I'd like to keep it that way."
"I still can't believe he didn't scold you for stealing ingredients from his storeroom for me."
"He's a man who values honesty, Garreth." She chuckled again, still faintly strained but noticeably calmer.
"Alright, so be it," he said, rolling his eyes with a chuckle. "But how's your overall experience at Hogwarts? You know, in general?"
Scarlett sighed.
"If it weren't for my dear housemates, I think it'd be much better."
"My offer still stands to lace their food with boil-inducing potion." He glanced at her from the corner of his eye, a mischievous grin spreading across his freckled face.
"I don't even know who's behind this..." she admitted.
"We'd just dose the whole table." Garreth smirked slyly.
Scarlett glanced at him, a faint smile tugging at her lips. The thought of seeing them all pay was undeniably tempting—none of them were innocent, after all... except perhaps...
"Sebastian didn't do anything. Nor Imelda or Ominis."
"We'll warn them not to eat." He shrugged nonchalantly.
"And how exactly would you tamper with the food?" She raised an eyebrow at him, intrigued.
"You just sneak into the kitchen when the elves are setting the tables. They arrange everything down there before making it appear up here."
"You've thought about this before, haven't you?" Holding back laughter, she couldn't help but ask, noting how prepared he seemed with solutions at the ready.
"Dozens of times!" he replied matter-of-factly.
Were all Gryffindors this incorrigible?
The Great Hall was bustling as usual, a symphony of voices echoing off the walls, lit by the floating candles above and the enchanted ceiling mimicking a cloudy sky. Scarlett always loved this place. She waved to Imelda from across the room, who nudged Sebastian, who in turn whispered to Ominis. None of them waved back. They never liked it when she sat at another table, but after being locked in a broom cupboard, Scarlett had no intention of sitting with her housemates.
She placed her bag on a chair and sat beside Garreth, directly across from Natty, who eyed them both with thinly veiled confusion.
"Good morning, Natty," Scarlett greeted with a smile, pouring herself a glass of orange juice.
"Good morning..." she replied, her gaze shifting slowly to Garreth, who was grinning far too enthusiastically as he helped himself to scrambled eggs.
"We could do it next week. I'll need some time to brew the potion," Garreth said casually.
"Agreed, then." Scarlett nudged him playfully, causing Natty to raise her eyebrows in silent inquiry.
"We could brew it together, if you'd like. What do you think?" he suggested with an easy smile.
"Uh..." Scarlett hesitated, suddenly self-conscious.
"If I were you, I wouldn't," Natty interjected. "It tends to smell awful." She didn't even know which potion they were discussing, but it was safe to assume anything Garreth brewed would reek.
"True, but I can keep the smell from sticking to us," Garreth defended himself. "It's perfectly safe..."
"Not worth it, Sky." Natty cut him off decisively.
Was that... jealousy?
Scarlett studied her. Everything about Natty's demeanour screamed that she wanted the invitation declined—the sharp intensity in her dark eyes, the tension in her hands resting on the table. Did she like Garreth? Merlin... If so, Scarlett certainly wasn't going to stand in the way.
"I think you'd be faster without me," Scarlett said carefully. "Besides, I've got a lot to finish this week before the tests."
"We could study together. Not just for Potions..." he offered, a hint of hope in his voice.
"She's already studying with me today," Natty interrupted again, deflating Garreth's enthusiasm.
He sighed, clearly frustrated, and Scarlett hid her amusement behind a sip of juice.
Scarlett hadn't agreed to anything, but there was no way to contradict Natty in that moment, so she let the tide carry her. Garreth accepted the statement, though he didn't look pleased, and Scarlett mentally noted to have a word with Natty later. She wanted to make it clear she'd never interfere between the two. Their eyes met briefly, and there was an unmistakable concern in Natty's dark gaze. Scarlett offered the gentlest smile she could muster.
During Transfiguration, Scarlett sat with Garreth at his invitation. He positioned himself between her and Sebastian, who was seated at the next table. Sebastian glanced over, a puzzled look plastered on his face. Scarlett merely shrugged in response. Even from a distance, she could hear Sebastian exhale sharply and mutter something to Ominis.
Garreth was a natural chatterbox, bursting with stories to tell. He only quieted when his aunt began the lesson—not that Scarlett minded. His antics were amusing, and she found herself laughing so hard at one point that tears welled up in her eyes. Especially when he botched a vanishing spell and made his own desk disappear, spilling ink all over his robes. It was funny how just earlier, she'd been crying, but now her stomach ached from laughing.
At the end of the lesson, Scarlett didn't have a chance to speak with her housemates. She was immediately summoned to Professor Weasley's office for an update on her progress. It turned out to be a much longer conversation than she had anticipated. The Department of Education was being kept informed about everything she learned, and the results of her first tests would be crucial in determining whether their experimental teaching methods were effective.
Professor Weasley also brought up extra studies and asked about Professor Fig for what felt like the sixth time. Scarlett offered her usual, minimal responses, growing increasingly adept at disguising the truth with half-lies. Finally, after what felt like hours, she was dismissed.
"I thought you'd never come out!" Garreth's voice startled her the moment she stepped out of the office.
"Garreth!" she exclaimed, clutching her chest. "What are you doing here?"
"Sorry," he laughed, clearly unrepentant. "I said I'd escort you."
"You don't have to keep doing that—I'm fine," she replied, beginning her trek toward the Great Hall. It was lunchtime, and though she wasn't particularly hungry, she knew if she didn't hurry, she'd have to sneak into the kitchens to find something to eat.
"I'm fine walking with you too," he said with a shrug, once again offering his arm to her.
Scarlett narrowed her eyes at him, suspicious. Garreth met her gaze, maintaining an air of feigned innocence. His coppery curls framed his ever-mischievous face, the freckles dotting his skin far more pronounced than Sebastian's. His blue eyes held a trace of innocence, but there was a slyness beneath the surface that was hard to miss.
With a small sigh, she took his arm politely, and the two strolled leisurely across the castle. Scarlett barely noticed the distance between the wings anymore. Of course, she still relied on Floo Flames, but she had been making an effort to follow Ominis's advice: to enjoy the walk and pay closer attention to her surroundings.
"Garreth... May I ask you something?" Scarlett muttered, a hint of embarrassment in her voice, as they climbed the Grand Staircase toward the second floor.
"Anytime, Sky. And you can call me Garry since we're friends now."
She smiled softly, nodding, and took a deep breath to gather her thoughts.
"You're the potions' prodigy of our year... Of course, my question is purely hypothetical and more of a curiosity than anything else. It's not a request or anything..."
"Just spit it out already!" He gave her a playful shake.
"Do you think it's possible to create a potion for magical wounds? I mean... magical scars?"
"Magical scars...?" Garreth tilted his head, thoughtful. "Magical wounds are tricky business. Just look at Professor Sharp—still limping and with that scar on his face." His tone was slightly mocking, which irked Scarlett, though she hid her discomfort well.
"Do you think he hasn't fixed it because it's impossible or because he doesn't want to?" she probed. "He said in class that his leg couldn't be improved, but his face... It seems terrible to live with such marks forever."
"Honestly, that's uncharted territory for me," he admitted. "Potions for aesthetics, though? Interesting. I'll take it as a challenge and get you your answer." He pushed open the doors to the Great Hall.
"If you figure it out, please let me know."
Garreth looked at her curiously, and she straightened her posture. "Imelda and I were talking about the risks of being a player like her, and she mentioned she wouldn't want scars."
Garry shrugged in agreement and settled at the same spot where they had eaten brunch. Once again, Scarlett found herself sharing a meal with the Gryffindors, laughing at Garreth's outlandish ideas for tackling his new challenge.
"I have no idea what's got into her today," Sebastian grumbled, pushing away his empty plate and resting his chin on his interlocked fingers. Scarlett, oblivious to the burn of his gaze drilling into the back of her head, continued laughing.
"Garreth is... sweet," Imelda commented with a nonchalant shrug.
Sebastian grimaced in disgust, but bit back the urge to mock her revolting choice of words.
"I think it's nice that she's mingling with other houses. Still... I don't know, eating with them twice in a row is odd," Imelda added.
"I don't see why she needs to mingle with other houses when she has us," Sebastian shot back.
"Says the one who rotates tables like clockwork," Ominis retorted dryly. "Let her be. It's not as if she's switching houses."
"Aren't you upset she said she'd come here and then just disappeared?" Sebastian's tone was sharp as he narrowed his eyes.
"The explanation will come later," Ominis replied, unfazed, continuing his meal with serene detachment.
"Funny, since you're quick to get angry with me," Sebastian huffed, crossing his arms over the table.
"That's because you irritate me," Ominis replied curtly.
"You irritate everyone," Imelda chimed in. "But there's one thing I still don't get. This morning, fine, it was weird—we all noticed. But she seemed fine in Weasley's class...." Imelda trailed off, fixing her sharp gaze on Sebastian. "Why are you still so angry, Sebastian Sallow? Did she tell you she'd come to breakfast too?"
"She did. But you know what? I don't care. She can eat with whoever she wants," Sebastian snapped, shrugging his shoulders before taking a long sip of his juice to dodge the scrutiny aimed squarely at him.
"Glad you reached that conclusion on your own," Ominis remarked, standing and nodding toward Sebastian. "Come on, you said we'd study for Arithmancy."
Sebastian didn't argue. Gathering his belongings, he followed Ominis toward the Library. The walk might have been quiet if not for the storm brewing in Sebastian's mind.
"Do you think she'd get involved with Garreth?" The words spilled out of his mouth before he could stop them.
Ominis raised a brow, his shoulders slumping with indifference.
"Scarlett? I don't know. It's not like she's had much experience for me to gauge how she'd react to that sort of thing. But honestly, I don't see an issue. Outside the Potions classroom, what danger does he even pose?"
The burning in Sebastian's stomach climbed to his chest, and he swallowed the bitter taste pooling in his mouth. Lunch had to be off—he was sure of it.
"Why do you even care?" Ominis asked, studying his friend closely.
They chose an empty table in the Library's centre. Ominis began unpacking his bag, while Sebastian took the opportunity to wander to the shelves, selecting two books about Salazar Slytherin from the section on the Founders.
"It's like you said. She's not used to all these new people and situations. And these blokes..." Sebastian exhaled heavily as he sat across from Ominis. "You've heard about the bet. What if he tries to take advantage?"
"She's not foolish, and I doubt she cares about that bet. Scarlett isn't reckless—she'd never let herself get carried away like that. Besides, if something were going on, she'd tell me. And if it ever came to that, I'd either warn her or support her."
Ominis's tone remained calm and assured, a stark contrast to Sebastian's underlying tension. Years of friendship with Scarlett had given Ominis a strong understanding of her character. He trusted she would confide in him if needed. He was genuinely pleased to see her finally adapting to Hogwarts life after all her struggles. Garreth wasn't a concern—Sebastian's fussing was entirely unnecessary.
"What'd you grab there?" Ominis asked, straightening up to begin their studies. "If I manage an 'Exceeds Expectations,' I'll have a solid shot at the Auror program."
"Ah, nothing for now," Sebastian replied with a shrug. "And you'll get in, unfortunately, but you will."
Ominis froze for a moment before pulling one of Sebastian's books toward him to inspect its contents.
"Give it back!" Sebastian lunged for it, but Ominis swiftly leaned away.
A faint white glow with a reddish undertone emanated from Ominis's wand as he used it to read.
"I've told you before, you won't find anything about the Scriptorium here." Ominis's voice grew heavier.
"I have to start somewhere, especially if you won't tell me."
"Sebastian, we're not doing this again."
"I'm just trying to help Anne, Ominis, nothing more." Sebastian pulled the book away and stacked it with the other, keeping them out of Ominis's reach. "Let's just get on with it. Grab Grammatica's book."
༻✦༺
"Careful, or the Sorting Hat might reconsider your house," came Sebastian's voice.
Scarlett halted her steps a few paces into the Undercroft. He was right behind her. The sound of his footsteps grew closer, and his scent filled her senses unbidden. She turned, locking eyes with that pair of deep brown irises that seemed to pull her in like a black hole. His loose tie, sleeves rolled up to his elbows, and hair charmingly dishevelled gave him a nonchalant look, though his expression hinted at a sharp wit lurking behind his teasing demeanour.
Scarlett shrugged.
"Maybe I'm more Gryffindor than Slytherin."
"Tsk... sometimes I think that too. But even in your most Gryffindor-like moments—like attacking goblin camps—you show your Slytherin side. Your sense of self-preservation means striking first to avoid being caught off guard. You don't like surprises." He took a step closer, his chest puffed slightly, his stance almost daunting. "Besides, we're quite alike, and I don't think I have a single Gryffindor trait."
"I bet the Sorting Hat didn't even hesitate," she quipped with a faint smirk.
"Took five seconds to place me," he boasted, though his smug expression quickly faded. "Why did you spend the day with Weasley today?"
Sebastian had moved closer still, sending a chill down Scarlett's spine. His sharp gaze, measured breathing, and abrupt shift in tone shattered the moment. She averted her eyes, fixing them on a stack of crates nearby. She would rather not mention being locked in the broom cupboard earlier and was doing her best to avoid her housemates because of it.
"Uh... He called me over. He was helping me with a Potions project," she deflected, forcing a smile.
"What project? Professor Sharp hasn't assigned anything," Sebastian countered, narrowing his eyes.
"It's... extra credit," she replied quickly.
Sebastian ran his tongue across his teeth, his eyes never leaving hers. He noticed the slight tension in her stance, her restless fingers fidgeting with her bag strap, the way she shifted her weight from one leg to the other. She was lying.
"I called you here to learn a new spell." His penetrating gaze remained fixed on her, even as he changed the subject. "Are you interested, or is your extra credit project with Weasley more important?"
"No... I'm free now," she answered, clearing her throat and mustering a tight-lipped smile.
"Perfect." Sebastian's low tone sent a shiver down her neck, and it took all her effort to keep her legs steady as she moved to the table to set her things down.
Sebastian placed a training dummy in the centre of the Undercroft, enlarging it with a flick of his wand. Scarlett had no idea where he'd got such a thing, but she didn't question it. Instead, she readied her wand, shrugging off her emerald green vest for comfort. Snapping her fingers and shaking out her hands, she prepared herself.
"Diffindo is a highly versatile spell if you know how to wield it properly," Sebastian began, circling her like a hawk. "It can cut through anything—from objects to people. To use it effectively, you need to visualise the cut with absolute precision."
She furrowed her brows.
"So, do you picture goblins sliced in half when you cast it?"
"Naturally, Miss Callaghan," Sebastian replied, stopping just behind her.
"Should I be worried about that?"
"That depends on you," he whispered, his breath warm against her ear.
"What if I don't want to decapitate someone?" Her voice was a strained murmur.
"Then don't picture them decapitated. Focus on your objective." His lips brushed her ear, and she felt her breath hitch. "The wand movement is a simple arc—from right to left."
His right hand grazed the bare skin of her neck, trailing down her arm until it reached her hand. Breathing had become an arduous task, each inhale exhausting her. Scarlett closed her eyes, forcing herself to concentrate on that singular act—breathing.
Sebastian guided her hand, mimicking the wand motion, his body pressed intimately against hers. The warmth of him against her back was inescapable. He released her hand, allowing her to cast on her own, but didn't step away. Instead, his fingers swept a few loose strands from her neck, bending forward to leave a kiss—decidedly improper—against her skin.
"D-Diffin-do," Scarlett murmured, her voice embarrassingly weak. The spell hit the dummy, which spun lazily on its wheels, barely affected.
Sebastian chuckled, the sound low and raspy against her neck. He inhaled deeply, her floral scent intoxicating, like a cool breeze on a stifling summer's day. Another kiss, wetter this time, followed by the deliberate graze of his tongue against her skin. The texture of her flesh changed under his touch, goosebumps spreading in his wake. Her breath escaped her parted lips as she leaned back against his chest, eyes closed, her knees betraying her strength.
He seized her waist, pulling her firmly against him. She could feel his arousal pressing against her lower back. Now, his lips trailed to the other side of her neck, sucking and nibbling gently, his breath hot against her skin, eliciting a shiver that rolled through her in waves. His hand slid upward to her corset, his fingers tracing the curve of her breast before trailing to her throat. He wrapped his fingers around her neck, tightening his grip just enough to make her breathing laboured, tilting her head to expose her lips to his.
Sebastian's kiss was scorching—urgent, consuming, unrelenting. Scarlett felt herself unravelling, utterly swept away, every nerve alights with the intensity of him. He spun her effortlessly, capturing her lips again with even more ferocity, his tongue claiming her mouth without hesitation. His hand gripped her backside firmly, eliciting a gasp that he swallowed whole.
He advanced a few steps, his hands anchoring her by the waist to keep her steady until her back met a pillar with a hollow thud. Raising one of her legs indecently, he hooked it around his hip, pressing his pelvis against her core and groaning deeply at the contact. His restraint hung by a thread, a fragile line between wanton desire and the honour he clung to, slipping like grains of sand through his fingers. His duality—a battle of feral lust and composed rationality—simmered precariously close to surrender.
Scarlett's sanity was slipping away, unravelling thread by thread under the mounting heat pooling between her thighs, intensifying to sharp pulses low in her belly. With trembling hands, she undid the knot of his tie, fingers deftly working their way down the buttons of his shirt until the fabric was stripped from his body. She pushed his shoulders back, just enough to feast her eyes on his now-bare torso.
That sinful smile of his, the way he bit his lower lip, and the unmistakable hunger gleaming in his emerald eyes made her feel like prey caught in a hunter's snare. His defined chest, broad shoulders, strong arms, and carved abdomen were a sight to behold, like a masterpiece that belonged on display. Her hands roamed across the taut muscles of his chest and stomach, her fingertips brushing over his tense skin. It wasn't until their gazes met that she noticed the self-satisfied smirk tugging at his lips. Her stomach churned as though struck by a Glacius spell.
Before she could overthink, Sebastian claimed her lips in another searing kiss, his hands sliding down to grip her thighs. In one swift motion, he hoisted her up, pressing himself firmly against her core. The friction sent a wave of relief through the ache gnawing at her, the warmth in her abdomen igniting further. His fingers worked quickly, loosening her tie and undoing the top buttons of her blouse. His lips trailed over her collarbone, planting fervent kisses on the mounds of her chest before climbing upward to her throat, jawline, ear, and neck.
His hands found their way inside her corset, his fingers pinching the stiffened peak of her nipple between them. Scarlett couldn't suppress the moan that spilled from her lips, muffled only by his eager kiss.
The creak of the Undercroft's gate opening shattered the charged air like a thunderclap.
Sebastian froze, his hand flying to cover Scarlett's mouth, while he buried his own face against the soft skin of her shoulder to stifle his laboured breathing. Both of them stayed motionless, their racing hearts beating in sync, their bodies tense with unspent desire.
"Sebastian?" Ominis's voice echoed through the stone chamber.
Sebastian's thoughts were a storm of expletives directed at his friend, every curse imaginable forming in his mind, but remaining unspoken. Scarlett clenched her eyes shut, willing herself to steady her breathing, though her body betrayed her. The throbbing ache between her thighs refused to subside, and the friction of her pressed against Sebastian only made it worse. Instinctively, she shifted her hips, seeking relief.
Sebastian exhaled sharply, his breath hot against her skin. His eyes closed as he dragged his teeth along the curve of her shoulder, his restraint fraying with every passing second.
The sound of Ominis's approaching footsteps made Sebastian tighten his grip around her waist, pinning her further against the pillar, as if that would somehow make them vanish. Scarlett moved again, the friction unbearable and addicting all at once. Sebastian bit down harder on her shoulder, the action somewhere between pleasure and punishment.
She wanted to let out the sound bubbling in her throat, to sink herself onto him and let her body take over, chasing the growing fire inside her.
"Sebastian?!" Ominis called again, his voice closer now, laced with irritation.
They prayed the crackling of the candelabras would mask their presence. Scarlett's heart hammered in her chest, and her head fell back against the pillar.
Ominis's steps echoed one last time before he turned back, the metal creak of the gate swinging shut the only confirmation that they were finally alone.
Sebastian released her mouth, his piercing gaze locking onto hers with a reprimand so fierce it felt like facing a cornered predator. She couldn't tell if his anger was directed at her, at Ominis, or at himself. Frankly, she didn't care. She kissed him again, her lips desperate, burning with need. But he pulled back.
His dark eyes devoured her, and though his chest rose and fell as rapidly as hers, his expression betrayed an internal struggle. He was caught in the tension between giving in and holding back, between claiming her or restraining himself.
"I told you I wouldn't put you in this position again," he growled, his deep voice reverberating through Scarlett's core, the weight of his disappointment reflected in his eyes. "Ominis won't be back, and here... there's nothing that will stop me. Do you understand?"
She didn't nod, didn't murmur an agreement. She simply stood there, staring. Scarlett understood all too well. She wasn't ready to face the consequences of where this path could lead, but she still craved certain sensations—like the way his heated kisses burned against her skin. There had to be some limit, some boundary they could draw. The ache between her legs felt unbearable without some form of recompense. Clearing her throat, she finally nodded.
With visible reluctance, Sebastian lowered her to the ground. If he'd known this was where being alone with her would lead, he might have avoided it altogether the first time. Scooping up his shirt from the floor, he turned his back to her and began dressing. His mind felt like an untamed wilderness, filled with roaring beasts, howling winds, and every curse word he could muster.
Scarlett, on the other hand, shuffled unsteadily to the other side of the pillar, her fingers fumbling to adjust her stiffened breasts back into her corset. Shame burned her cheeks as she buttoned her blouse. What would her mother think if she saw her like this? And her father... He would either force Sebastian to marry her or end his life outright.
'They're not here. They don't need to know anything.' She had repeated this mantra to herself so many times in recent days that it felt almost effortless to believe it this time. Refastening her tie, she made her way to the table, resting her hand against its rough wooden surface.
"I think I'll head back to my room. I told Imelda I'd study with her today," she said, her voice quieter than usual as she ran a hand across the damp nape of her neck, still warm from her body's heat.
"At least it's not someone from Gryffindor," he replied, stepping closer with both hands shoved into his pockets in a futile attempt to conceal the bulge in his trousers. The pale fabric of his uniform did little to help, and Scarlett's gaze slid down, curiosity making her glance—subtly, yet deliberately.
"And what if it were?" she challenged, arching a brow. She hadn't meant to provoke him, but her tone carried just enough edge to do so.
"I'd tell you to tread very carefully." He puffed out his chest in a gesture reminiscent of earlier, when Garreth's name had come up. "Felines are as treacherous as snakes."
"Perhaps I disagree. But thanks for the advice," she replied coolly, grabbing her bag and slinging it over her shoulder. "Good night, Sallow."
"Good night, Miss Callaghan," he said, his voice low and laced with something unspoken.