Sebastian POV
"I need to talk to you," Sebastian rushed to say when he finally spotted Professor Rowley walking the halls after class the next week. Sebastian was out of breath. Rowley was fast when he wanted to be. "Where have you been?!"
The man whipped around, his coat spiralling around him, when he heard Sebastian's voice - and his face lit up.
"Thank Merlin," he exclaimed, placing a hand on Sebastian's back briefly. "Follow me, let's go to my office."
Sebastian did so eagerly. With each of his strides, Rowley took two smaller ones, even though they were the same height. He had a certain swagger in his step that made him look almost ludicrous.
Once they reached his office behind the defence against the dark arts classroom, he motioned for Sebastian to sit down on a small mustard couch. When he did, he fell into it, and it had him sink almost to ground level. He looked up, surprised. Rowley was humming to himself while boiling some water for the kettle.
So odd.
Now that Sebastian had finally reached Professor Rowley, he didn't know where to begin.
"How are you settling back in?" Rowley asked, before Sebastian could say anything, pouring some of the tea into two cups. Sebastian felt small in the plush chair. He wringed his hands together under the coffee table, where Rowley placed a cup and then sat down opposite him.
"I'm okay," he said, and then shook his head. "Actually, I'm a mess," he admitted, with a dry chuckle.
"Understandable," the Professor responded, nodding his head almost aggressively. "You look thin. Have you been eating and drinking properly?"
Sebastian looked down at himself, and he didn't notice a difference. Although it had been eighty four days - he squeezed his eye shut, thinking of the number and trying to push it out of his head. He opened his eyes and nodded.
"Yes, I have been."
Rowley's face softened, suddenly. He cocked his head to the side like Ominis did when he was listening. "You look just like your father, you know," he said.
Sebastian didn't say anything for a moment. He avoided the man's gaze.
"You know," Sebastian started. "I never expected someone would get me out of there.." Sebastian trailed off, and then shook his head and came out with it. "Thank you, so much. I can never repay you for what you did."
"Oh you can," Rowley argued. "You can stay healthy, and you can work towards a normal life after what's happened. Your parents would've wanted you to be happy. And although it seems very difficult to see any happiness right now - you will."
"Were you very close to them?" Sebastian asked, his voice small. The professor stood, and walked over to a small dresser on the other side of the office. He picked up a frame that sat there, and handed it to Sebastian.
It was his parents. His mother was more beautiful than ever, his father standing with his arm around her, his eyes twinkling. Sebastian stared at the photo, unsure what to say. If he could say anything at all.
"When you and Anne were born, they fell in love," Rowley said, very seriously. "Turn the frame around." Sebastian did as he said, and seeing the photo he gasped and placed his hand on the photo, tracing the outline of it.
"That's your father and myself there," Rowley explained. "Look at him! He didn't know how to hold two babies at the same time. He didn't think he could. But if only you could've seen.. you. You two were the most precious babies I'd ever seen! And they loved you both more than anything."
"Everyone in these pictures, apart from you and I. They're all-" Sebastian stopped halfway through his sentence and wouldn't go on. For a moment he was humiliated with the display of emotion, but he gave in and placed his finger on the picture where Anne's face was, taking it in.
"It's unfair," Rowley said, lowering his voice. He sat back in his chair, and when Sebastian looked up he swore he saw a tear in the Professor's eye. "I'm sorry it took me so long to get to you. I would've come quicker if I knew - it just took a while to figure out where you were. I've been looking for you both since Alma and Otto were killed."
"Were killed?" Sebastian questioned, placing the frame down onto the coffee table. "They weren't killed. There was a malfunction-"
"That's not correct," the Professor said suddenly, and it caught Sebastian off guard. "That's just what Solomon's told you, and trust me, I've made it my life's purpose to find out what happened to them. And now, to look after you. If you'll let me."
Sebastian's head swirled. He could barely react. "So, Solomon lied to us?"
"Yes."
"Why would he-"
"I don't know," Professor Rowley said, and in the next sentence his voice carried a strong sense of urgency and unwavering determination. "But I'm going to find out."
————
Y/N POV
"She passed it back to Nellie, wait - Nellie's dropped it and bloody Garreth has it now. I'll watch though, Imelda will take it off him -" you were narrating the Qudditch game between Gryffindor and Slytherin while Ominis listened attentively, asking questions when necessary. You weren't playing this one, because it was your turn to sit out.
"Where's the snitch?" He asked you, and you shrugged.
"I haven't seen it the whole game. Look at Imelda though," you gasped as she chased Weasley down. "Merlin, she's good at riding broom," you laughed before adding, "bet it's not the only thing she's good at riding," you quipped, making Ominis flush. You nudged his arm, laughing as he became flustered. You knew he hated those kind of jokes.
"Merlin," Ominis muttered under his breath. "It's like harassment hanging out with you."
"Ah yes, you say that now but you'd feel like you were missing something if I'd never have come to Hogwarts, Gaunt." You swore you almost saw amusement in his cloudy eyes, and a hint of a smile. You were too busy looking at him to notice that Gryffindor had caught the snitch, and you became alert when an uproar of cheering occurred in the crowd.
"What happened?" Ominis asked, tilting his head towards you.
"Oh, Merlin," you breathed, looking at Slytherin for a reaction.
"That's not a good sign," Ominis sighed. "Imelda will be furious."
"She looks.." you trailed off, catching a glimpse of Imelda shouting at one of the Gryffindor players. "Okay?"
"I can hear her, Y/N," Ominis rolled his eyes, standing up from his seat. "We have a fun afternoon ahead of us."
"Great." Your tone was sarcastic.
———
"That was just ridiculous!" Imelda grumbled as they walked into the Great Hall for lunch. "Weasley dropped the snitch!"
"Yes, but that was after he caught it," Ominis sighed.
"How would you know?" At that remark, Ominis rolled his eyes, following the tug of his wand and shaking his head. Imelda gave him an apologetic glance that there was never a hope of him catching and continued on. "There should be a rule," she snapped. "That if you drop it it doesn't count."
"But there isn't," Ominis told her.
You watched them argue back and forth until finally Ominis gave in, letting her grumble about whatever she wanted while the three of you filled your plates. Imelda was piling hers on, aggressively emptying each spoonful of food onto her plate.
Ominis spoke as though to diffuse the tension. "What is there today?"
"There's soup, some kind of stew, mashed potatoes and pork loins," you told him, watching Imelda mutter angrily to herself. "Your girlfriends gone mad, Ominis."
Imelda ignored you and Ominis rolled his eyes again. He'd be sick of doing that by the end of the day.
"What's this? The stew or the soup?" Ominis asked, grabbing the spoon from above the stew after stirring it once. "This is a ladle right? I don't want to touch the end."
"Yes it's a ladle," you replied. "That's the soup you've got there."
He shrugged and dipped the ladle into the soup, and you watched as he lifted his bowl towards it, tipping it in ever so slowly - and then when he was confident with the position he poured it more generously until he was satisfied with the weight of the bowl. He almost immediately knew where the case of bread was, and grabbed one, breaking it and dipping it in the soup.
Constantly you found yourself wondering how he did everything with no sight but then - that's all he'd ever known.
"Sebastian," Imelda snapped, and you looked up to see him walking towards the table. Although he had dark circles under his eyes, he walked with his old swagger and a small skip in his step. "Were you at that game? I've never been more furious in my life."
"I was not," Sebastian replied, his voice husky. "But if you're furious I'll assume it was a fair game and you lost."
Imelda resorted to ignoring the boy, deciding to keep her grumbling to herself.
"How are you?" you smiled. He placed a solid hand on your back and took a seat next to you.
"I'm fine," he responded, which was all he ever said these days. "And how are you?"
"Wonderful, now that you're here."
"Hey!" Ominis protested, almost dropping the spoon into his soup. "Like we're not good enough company?" He rephrased that. "Well. Like I'm not good enough company?"
Imelda looked towards Ominis' smirk and shook her head. "Fine. I'm not angry anymore."
"Really?" Sebastian asked. "I did hear that Weasley caught the snitch. But Y/N," he turned to you and winked. "I heard that he dropped it after he caught it! Surely that doesn't count."
"Sebastian," Ominis joined in, coyly. "I don't think you've understood the rules of the game. It doesn't matter if he dropped it. He caught it, and that's all that matters."
You stifled a giggle and added, "he weaved past all the chasers to catch it. It was amazing."
Imelda was frowning, her arms crossed at the table. She looked right at you and you couldn't help it, you burst into laughter. Although Imelda looked like she wanted to yell at you, you watched her smile and tuck her hair behind her ears.
"Whatever," she told you all. "I don't care anymore anyway. Good for him. Good for Gryffindor. But Slytherin are still winning."
Ominis POV
Ominis slept fitfully in the undercroft that night.
He opened his eyes to silence the first time he awoke, hearing the crackle of the fire and the light snores of Imelda next to him, the heavy breathing of Sebastian in the bed across from them, where
Y/N should also be sound asleep.
He lay awake, thinking of everything - thinking of nothing - all at once. Usually, before he slept, he thought of his family. Of Noctua. Of Sebastian.
But tonight, when his eyes finally did close and his body allowed him sleep, he dreamt of Anne.