Chapter Text
Sebastian Sallow hated being incapacitated.
No, hate was too mild a word.
Sebastian Sallow loathed, despised and abhorred being incapacitated.
Nose was a bit sniffly? No, it wasn’t, and with that thought thundering through his mind, he carried on his day like nothing was wrong, ignoring the fact that he couldn’t breathe easily and half his head was pounding like a mariachi band was playing non-stop in there.
Arm bleeding from a stray diffindo he encountered while duelling Dark Wizards when he and Clora Clemons were on a midnight stroll around the lake? Push through the pain; the bleeding will stop… eventually.
Broken bones and burned skin? Just a side effect of him living his everyday life; burns from scalding himself on a cauldron in Potions, broken bones and bruises from Beating in Quidditch or duelling in the illicit Crossed Wands tournament – after all, he had a reputation as one of Hogwarts’ best academic and sporting all-rounders to maintain.
Sebastian wouldn’t let the little things stop him; even as a little boy he would run his mother ragged as he accelerated through life full throttle, despite her imploring him to slow down and take the time to recover from whatever ailment he encountered. It was a wonder that her hair hadn’t turned prematurely grey with having to deal with Anne, Sebastian and their father. When the twins had been taken in by Solomon after their parents demise, illness and injury hadn’t been enough to stop the day-to-day running of the farm and Sebastian had been conditioned to soldier on with work; Solomon was not enough of a caregiver to tend to his needs and let him recover. After all, Sebastian was the next man of the Sallow line, and men were strong – they didn’t let anything stop them in carrying out their duty and responsibility for their family. The conditioning, coupled with his stubborn personality, saw him toiling away for hours on end in whichever endeavour he pursued, no matter how wretched he felt.
All in all, it was a perfect storm that shaped Sebastian Sallow into the absolute monster that he could be when he was under the weather, and unfortunately for Clora Clemons, she was the one that had to tame the savage beast that was her sick fiancé.
“I’m not sick,” Sebastian insisted, hacking up a cough from deep within his chest and sounding very much like a bear that had been roused out of hibernation months too early, voice all sinus-y and irritated. He picked at a cut on his hand, peeling off the scab that had formed from his detention last night; Sebastian had been in the Herbology greenhouses repotting Mandrakes for Professor Garlick when a new cross-breed of a Venomous Tentacula sapling nibbled at him before he could pull his hand away. The area was angry, raised and swollen, tender to the touch, so Sebastian promptly shoved his hand in his pocket so Clora wouldn’t see it and fret over something so insignificant.
He had been waiting for her outside the Ravenclaw Common Room to escort her to breakfast – a rarity, given that they were in their seventh year of Hogwarts and were more akin to sleeping (or not sleeping, depending on how stressed out they were) together in their Bedroom of Requirement instead of their dorms. But last night, Sebastian had been in detention for… well, he had broken so many rules this year, Clora wasn’t entirely sure which one had caught up with him, and since Sebastian was otherwise engaged, Clora had spent a girls night in with Samantha Dale, Constance Dagworth and Poppy Sweeting (who had been smuggled into Ravenclaw Tower) in their dormitory, gushing over hers and Sebastian’s wedding plans. The pair had decided that they would be wed as quickly as they could after graduating from Hogwarts, and the Saturday after graduation was fast approaching, even though there was still some time to go before Clora Clemons became Clora Sallow.
Their sixth year at Hogwarts was extremely uneventful compared to their fifth year, and Clora was glad for it. Instead of having to worry about being kidnapped by one of the Darkest Wizards of the age, she had to worry about making sure she submitted all her assignments on time, and that they were of the highest quality she could muster. Instead of traversing the Highlands to complete Ancient Magic trials and fuel her Ancient Magic power, she roamed the halls of the library, scouring the shelves for books she needed to read to complete her coursework, only to find out that a certain, freckled Slytherin had beaten her to the punch and checked out the books before she could. It was a feat Sebastian lorded over her, trading her one book for one date at a time as his way of ensuring they still spent quality time with each other, even it was hampered by their studying so they could do well in their N.E.W.T.s. The relative easiness of sixth year did wonders for their relationship as well; Clora wasn’t in any danger, which lessened Sebastian’s overprotectiveness over her. Not by much, but Clora certainly felt that his presence wasn’t as suffocating and cloying as it could have been, and that allowed them to grow more comfortable and more intimate with each other. Instead of Sebastian being the pillar of strength Clora relied on and masking his own insecurities, Sebastian began to open up to her and lean on her as well for emotional support.
Even though they were sure their relationship was rock solid and nothing could shake that foundation, Sebastian and Clora also discovered just how many petty squabbles they could get into, something that Anne repeatedly assured Clora was part of a normal, healthy relationship. Their disagreements ranged from inconsequential, where they resolved as Clora and Sebastian ended up in each other’s arms in paroxysmals of laughter and delight, to the more serious. Clora struggled to mask her frustration as Sebastian would stack the tomes he was reading and analysing on the floor of his side of the bed in their room, instead of packing them neatly away on the bookshelf the bedroom had so kindly provided him. Sebastian would roll his eyes and deliberately place one more book on the tower of literature by his bed, just to twist the proverbial knife a little bit more, stating that it was more convenient for him to grab a book off the floor when he wanted to read instead of leaving the bed, sliding a book off the shelf and then clambering back into bed and risk rousing her from her slumber. It irked Sebastian that Clora would delve into what he thought was sarcasm during arguments when she couldn’t change his mind about something; she just had this biting way of skewing his point of view enough to make him realise he was being unreasonable, but by then their fight had escalated to the point where he couldn’t back down (swallowing his pride and admitting he was wrong had never come easily to him, a trait he had inherited from his mother) so he would storm away before he said something too unfortunate and allow Ominis to tell him he was wrong and calm him down before going back to Clora to apologise and metaphorically grovel at her feet.
Despite it all, they were certain that they would spend the rest of Clora’s life entwined together; with Sebastian accidentally Horcruxing his soul into her hairclip, he was most likely going to outlast her and then some.
Sebastian had officially asked Clora to marry him just two weeks ago, underneath constellations that were dotted in the sky like his freckles and in a field full of daisies. Unlike the first time he asked her on her birthday in fifth year, he had actually followed proper etiquette. He had scrimped and saved and worked himself to the bone to collect as many Galleons as possible so he could commission a ring for Clora, one he knew would be a symbol of who he was and the love he held for her and would become an heirloom that would pass down the family line in years to come. After shotting down a glass of whiskey at the Clemons’ household one lunch, Sebastian steeled his nerves and stumbled over his words, asking for permission to take Clora’s hand in marriage. Even though he knew Clive and Margaret had accepted him, there was still a little voice in Sebastian’s head that kept commenting that he wasn’t a good person, he wasn’t good for Clora, he wasn’t good enough for Clora, especially with him being a man of meagre means, an impoverished orphan from Feldcroft while her family was at least a social class or two above his. He was fully bracing himself for disapproval and rejection, but deep down, he knew that the lack of approval from Clora’s parents wouldn’t stop him from marrying her anyway. Instead, Clive’s lips twitched under his moustache and he nodded minutely. There was only one condition Clive had, and it was one Sebastian was loathe to accept, but he did so anyway as he understood that Clive was merely trying to ensure that all of Clora’s future needs would be met and their joint life was secure; the pair were to complete their schooling and acquire permanent jobs before tying the knot.
Clora merely flicked him a glance with a tinge of concern buried within the depths of her eyes. “You don’t sound like you’re not sick. Perhaps we should go to the Hospital Wing and get you some Pepper-Up Potion instead of breakfast and you can spend the rest of the day recovering in our room.”
“Absolutely not. I have an Ancient Runes exam first up, an Arithmancy quiz after the morning tea break and I need to get an Outstanding in both. That’ll ensure my place in the Curse-Breaker’s Program is guaranteed so we can marry and live the rest of our lives together.”
He failed to mention that he also had a duel organised in the lunch break for Crossed Wands and he had a substantial bet riding on his victory. After class was done, he had been slated to work the evening and night shift at The Three Broomsticks. Something he sorely needed as his sources of income so he had enough stashed up to rent out a small apartment in central London by the time seventh year was over; living close to Clora’s parents seemed important to her when they had talked about their future just after New Year, and that made it important to him, in spite of how expensive it was. That would not only mean he had a job secured, but he also had somewhere to take (in all senses of the word) Clora after making her his wife, and he was damned if he was going to start their married life by sharing a tiny cottage that lacked any privacy with his cantankerous uncle and his loving, but nosey and meddling sister.
The way Sebastian saw it, a little bit of suffering now was worth it for the long term life he stood to gain with Clora. Despite him claiming he wasn’t sick, he knew his body well enough to know that he definitely wasn’t functioning as he should - his blocked sinuses, sore throat, shortness of breath, muscle fatigue and migraine attested to that – but there was too much at stake for him to succumb to whatever was ailing him. In his head, admitting he was sick was akin to admitting that he couldn’t look out for and look after Clora, and if he couldn’t do that in life, he might as well roll down as dead as he could be considering his Horcrux made him virtually invincible and admit defeat. Denial of the state of his health was the best course of action so he could single-mindedly achieve his goals.
His personal motto?
Pepper-Up Potion for the minor illnesses; ignorance for the serious.
Clora frowned heavily as Sebastian slung one arm around her shoulder, leaning just a little bit too much into her for her to believe Sebastian was as fine as he wanted her to think he was.
“I really think –” Clora began in an attempt to coax Sebastian to Nurse Blainey, her frown becoming more pronounced as Sebastian cut her off and saw right through her plan. There were times when she loved how well Sebastian knew her and her motives. There were times when she hated how well Sebastian knew her and her motives.
“I don’t.”
“That much is obvious,” Clora snarked so quietly that no-one but her heard it. But she knew when to push her fiancé into bending his will to her way of thinking and when to back off, and with the knowledge that he had two high stakes tests and that he wasn’t well, she decided to back down and save her ammunition for a time when Sebastian was more likely to be receptive to it.
The pair made their way down to the Great Hall for breakfast. Clora gracefully slid onto the bench opposite Anne and Ominis. Sebastian collapsed heavily onto the bench, head coming to rest on the solid oak with a bang, sending vibrations and shockwaves down the table. The heat of being in a crowded space was too much, and despite it being mid-April and in the middle of a cold snap in a draughty castle, he shucked off this thick, woollen robe, blazer and waistcoat until he was clad in nothing but his white dress shirt, black trousers and Slytherin tie. It was still entirely too hot, and without thinking about decorum or the effect his actions would have on most of the female and some of the male population of the school – he was almost a legally married man and he only had eyes for Clora – he loosened his tie, undid the first three buttons of his shirt, spread his collar wide enough so the bony protrusion of his clavicles were exposed, and rolled his sleeves up as far as they could go. Normally, the sight of Sebastian’s forearms and glimpses of his chest, with the developed muscle and light dusting of dark body hair made Clora weak at her knees and flush her cheeks, but since they were covered in a thin sheen of sweat and the muscles underneath his skin were taut and shivering uncontrollably, her arousal at the sight evaporated and her concern for him ratcheted up several more notches.
“You don’t look well, dear brother of mine,” Anne commented, a tone of amusement in her voice as she recognised the difficulty her future sister-in-law had ahead of her in getting Sebastian to take the time to rest and recover. Ever since their parents died, Anne had the unenviable task of playing nursemaid to her brother when he was unwell, made even more challenging by Sebastian’s continual denial of not being sick. Usually a rare occurrence, but when her brother’s immune system crashed and burned, so did he. “Overdid it in detention last night?”
Sebastian merely narrowed his eyes at his twin and growled pitifully at her and asserted that he was fine, once more picking at the scab on his palm. “Since I look so terrible, can you make yourself useful and pour me some pumpkin juice, then?”
“No, you have arms so you can do it yourself. Should be easy enough for a young, strapping lad like you who isn’t sick. But if that’s too taxing for you, you should probably go to the Hospital Wing and stay there so you don’t contaminate the rest of us who are well with whatever you’ve contracted.”
Clora shot Anne a grateful smile, glad to have an ally in her sister and her friend. If Sebastian wasn’t going to listen to his fiancée, perhaps he would listen to his twin, who seemed to know him better than he knew himself.
Unfortunately, both girls had underestimated just how stubborn and pig-headed Sebastian was, and with a groan, he used his wand to levitate the pumpkin juice jug and pour himself a goblet of it before downing the ice-cold liquid in one easy swallow. “Happy?”
Clora and Anne speared each other with a glance before pursing their lips and leaving the rhetorical question unanswered. Breakfast continued in a stilted silence, save for the groans Sebastian made as the cacophony of the hall drilled into his already pounding and sweaty head; the migraine was magnifying the normal din of the hall and making it almost unbearable. Eventually, it became too much for the stubborn Slytherin to cope with and he shoved the bench he was sitting on back from the table.
“I’m going to class,” he muttered, tripping over the clothes he had deposited on the ground moments ago. With another muted growl, Sebastian flourished his wand and evanescoed the clothes away. “Might as well use the quiet of the classroom to get some last minute studying done.”
Without pressing a kiss to Clora’s forehead or lips – something that he always did before they broke away for their separate classes – Sebastian lurched his way to the Ancient Runes classroom.
“He’s not going to last the day,” Anne predicted, delicately munching on toast. It was a sentiment Clora and Ominis were, unfortunately, inclined to agree with.
***
Sebastian’s Ancient Runes test could not have gone any worse. Professor Babbling had taken one look at her star student and asked him if he wanted to apply for special consideration on medical grounds to sit his exam at a later date, given the sorry state that he was in. Sebastian’s eyes narrowed at the perceived weakness and he stubbornly and resolutely shook his head. He wasn’t sick, he didn’t need any special consideration. Professor Babbling sighed with a shake of her head, cautioned that if he didn’t do well it would affect his standing in gaining entrance into the Curse-Breaker’s course he was working so hard to get into, and he would not get another chance at redoing this task, but none of it persuaded Sebastian to reconsider.
Halfway through the three hour exam, his vision started to blur. Sebastian assumed it was because his eyes had tired from staring at symbols printed in miniature on his paper so he pulled off the reading glasses Clora insisted he wore instead of squinting all the time and rubbed at his eyes. His vision remained blurred, and in his right eye floating dots of white appeared in the centre of his field of view. He rubbed more vigorously, knuckles kneading into the jelly of his eyeball until it burned and stung, but it was no use. The floating dots were there to stay and he wondered if it would have a permanent effect on his eyesight.
Nothing but an annoyance, the inner voice in his head said that spurred him to keep working. Keep calm and carry on. Ask Ominis later how to function without your vision.
Twenty minutes after that, his stomach started to cramp uncontrollably, the vomit rising up his oesophagus like a tidal wave. Sebastian threw down his quill, knocking over the bottle of ink that spread like blood all over his exam paper and took in several shallow breaths to quash the need to throw up.
The thought of Clora popped into his mind, a vision dressed in white in the midst of summer, with yellow and white daisies adorning the hairclip he gave her as she glided towards him on their wedding day, making her way down to him so they could be bonded for life in matrimony. The bouquet in her hand contained more daisies, with a few sprigs of lavender as well, all tied together in a blue and bronze ribbon. Lavender was Sebastian’s mother’s favourite flower and his father had been a Ravenclaw, just like Clora; when they had been wedding planning, Clora had insisted on incorporating Sebastian’s parents into the ceremony so it would feel as if they were present at the wedding too. It was something that Sebastian hadn’t thought of – he had been parentless for more than a decade and was used to them missing out on key moments in his life – but he was touched that Clora had thought of things he didn’t, and the fact that she had found a subtle way to include his parents on their wedding day made him love her more.
Clora in a wedding dress morphed into an older, more distinguished version of her. Her belly was ripe with the fruit of their sensual lovemaking with each other; his and her hands, with thick wedding bands rested on what was their child, kicking away quite happily at them, as she sat on his lap and cuddled into his torso on an armchair in front of the fire. Sebastian was older too, a scratchy five o’clock shadow brushing against Clora’s cheek as he gazed reverently at her, a book magically levitating in front of them as he read to their unborn baby, the low timbre of his voice melodic and soothing and sending both of them to sleep.
The thoughts of security, safety, domesticity and home eased some of the ache that plagued his muscles and soothed the migraine that was progressively getting worse, reminding Sebastian of why he was so determined to sit his exam despite everyone actively discouraging him from doing so. With a deep breath, Sebastian blotted whatever ink he could from his paper and refocussed on the scribbles of symbols on his exam. He was holding on until he could gain a slight reprieve at morning tea break, praying to whatever deity he was almost certain he didn’t believe in that whatever was wrong with him would resolve itself before his Arithmancy quiz later on in the day.
***
Clora Clemons had gone most of the morning without seeing her fiancé, which was unusual in itself. While they both took most of the same core classes, Sebastian had chosen to take Ancient Runes and Arithmancy as his electives, while Clora had opted for Care of Magical Beasts and Alchemy. It just so happened that today was the day that they had both of their electives as their classes and it was expected that they would be separated from breakfast until lunch. They did, however, try to catch up with each other at morning recess, spending the half hour break between classes studying in the library.
Clora waited for Sebastian at the library doors, but he never eventuated, which drove her concern and worry for him up to uncharted levels. Even when Sebastian had been held up on other academic endeavours, he would always ensure a message got to her, apologising for not being able to meet up with her and promising to spend lunch with her instead.
But today, there was no message from Sebastian.
Clora left her post at the library doors and paced Central Hall until she saw the lanky, gangly frame of Leander Prewett emerge down the stairs from the Ancient Runes classroom, hair standing up on end as if he had been raking his hands feverishly though it.
“Leander!” Her voice cut through the general hubbub of the hall, strong and commanding. “Have you seen Sebastian? Is he still in class?”
Leander stared blankly at Clora. He had no ill will towards her, but he still hadn’t quite managed to extinguish the candle he burned for her; that was knowledge the Gryffindor wanted to keep on the down-low, especially from Sebastian. As a result, Leander had distanced himself from Clora; he liked to keep his arms and legs where they were, and there was no doubt in Leander’s mind that Sebastian would rip him limb from limb and remove the appendage that made him male if the serpent thought the lion was becoming overly friendly with his eagle.
“A tall, dark, handsome, extremely intelligent man that’s in your Ancient Runes class?”
“He left before I did. I haven’t seen him since he handed in his exam and stumbled out of the room like he was drunk.”
Clora’s shock, apprehension and fear for her fiancé was as clear as day; strands of her hair fell out of her hairclip as her head swivelled frantically, blue eyes scanning her surroundings for any sign of Sebastian, lips pinched tight as a frown marred her face.
“I’m sure he’s fine, Clora,” Leander began in an attempt to reassure her. Had they been back in their fifth year, Leander would have used the opportunity to highlight just how unsuitable Sebastian was for Clora, and how he would have been the better match instead, but he had matured and as much as he loathed it, Clora was wholly Sebastian’s. “He’s probably in an empty classroom cramming for the Arithmancy quiz we have next.”
“Yes, yes, you’re probably right,” Clora sighed distractedly, but she thought back to how poorly Sebastian was at breakfast and knew deep down that she wouldn’t be able to relax until she had word from him or had seen him with her own two eyes. Thinking about how wretched he was meant her legs were scurrying her to the nearest Floo Flame. Emerald green flames whipped around her as she travelled to the Room of Requirement; perhaps Sebastian had sought refuge in their private sanctuary between his exams and he had simply forgotten to tell her.
But their room was empty, left in exactly the same state it had been last time they were in there together. Sebastian’s stack of books were haphazardly piled near his side of the bed, teetering on the brink of balancing and tumbling down, while Clora’s hair products and jewellery box were ordered and took up most of the space on their shared dresser. Clora’s half of the bed was neatly made, while Sebastian’s half had the bedsheets tangled up in knots. Their room was representative of them; Clora was measured, conservative and controlled, while Sebastian was wild, unbridled chaos.
Clora spindled away, frantically pacing the hallways as she worked her way down from the seventh floor, blue eyes peeled wide open for any sign of Sebastian. It was a stroke of luck that she ran into Anne and Ominis coming out of the Undercroft, Ominis buttoning up his waistcoat while Anne tugged her shirt closed. Under normal circumstances, this would have been something that would have been gently teased, but today was anything but normal.
Clora was about to open her mouth to interrogate Anne and Ominis to find out if they knew where Sebastian was as they joined her search, retracing their steps until they reached Central Hall, but her eyes were drawn to a figure slipping out of a supply closet. Sebastian was moving sluggishly, one hand braced against a wall while the other covered his face, shielding his eyes from the bright lights of the hall. From where she was standing, she could see that his shirt was translucent, practically see-through from the amount that he was sweating, little rivulets of water were tracking their way down from his forehead to the nape of his neck, the ends of his hair curling even more so than they usually did because of the damp. His deltoids and trapezoids were taut and stiff – she could see the tension he was holding in them, no doubt from being hunched over his Ancient Runes exam – and as he rotated his neck to alleviate some of the tension he was feeling, Clora heard his bones crunch, click and grind on each other.
“Sebastian!” Clora called out, moving towards him. Unfortunately for her, that was exactly when the bell started chiming, indicating that the morning tea break was over and classes were about to commence. The penalty for tardiness wasn’t pleasant, and it was a fate that most of the Hogwarts cohort wanted to avoid, lest they got a Howler from their parents the next day. To that end, throngs of people milled quickly through Central Hall. Unlike her fiancé, Clora was vertically challenged; she couldn’t see over the tops of people’s shoulders and heads, and by the time the crowd had dissipated, Sebastian was gone.
***
Even though Sebastian did not think it was possible, the Arithmancy quiz had gone worse than the Ancient Runes exam. Sebastian was quite mathematically minded – his father had recognised his son had a natural head for numbers, just like he did – and before he died, he honed that skill in Sebastian. On a normal day, with all cylinders firing, Sebastian was able to compute complex algorithms in his head at lightning speed.
Unfortunately, today his mills ground slow and exceedingly dull.
The work that should have taken him 90 minutes to complete was unfinished by the time the two hour paper was up, and when Professor Vector barked at the class to put their quills down and summoned their work, he cast a cursory glance down at Sebastian’s paper and shook his head in a disappointed manner.
Sebastian let the waves of dissatisfaction wash over him; he knew it wasn’t his best work and that he would be lucky to scrape by with an ‘acceptable’ on his quiz. The gnawing feeling in his stomach, along with another wave of nausea welled up within him once more as the realisation that his future with Clora was in jeopardy; if he couldn’t secure his spot in the Curse-Breaker’s program after graduation… well, his only back up plan would be returning to Feldcroft to tend the fields with his uncle, a future that was bleak and unfulfilling and really made him want to vomit and he dashed out of the classroom before he absolutely embarrassed himself.
Still, there was no time to dwell on that now; he had a Crossed Wands opponent to annihilate, and subsequent winnings to collect.
Clora and Lucan were huddled in a corner, trading hushed whispers like secrets in the night by the time Sebastian foundered his way to the Clock Tower. Clora subtly tilted her head in Sebastian’s direction and pointed to herself, hoping that Lucan would understand exactly why she was making her request. Lucan stared on in abject horror as Sebastian slumped his way to the duelling arena. He had never seen the man he looked up to look so down and out of it.
“Let’s make this quick, Brattleby. Places to be, things to do.”
Lucan’s muddy brown eyes slid over to Clora’s sapphire blue ones, who was staring at him beseechingly, and nodded tightly. He had too much respect for Sebastian and Clora to deny Clora what she was asking for.
“Change of plan, Sebastian. Instead of having the individual final match today, we’re having the partner matches today. So it’ll be Sallow and Clemons versus Prewett and Morrison.”
Sebastian waved a hand dismissively. The change of plan didn’t really impact him; he was a competitor in both the individual heat and with Clora in the partner duels. Either way, he had a substantial number of Galleons riding on his victory and he intended to make mincemeat out of his opponents so he could collect.
Lucan hesitated before calling out their rivals. “Sebastian, are you sure you’re in a fit state to compete?”
Sebastian was starting to get sick of everyone insisting he was sick. First Clora, then Anne, then his professors and now Lucan?! Their insistence at mollycoddling him was making him more determined to resist their attempts at getting him to slow down and take some time to look after himself. Didn’t they understand what was at stake for him?! Didn’t they know that pushing himself to the brink was the only way he could prove himself worthy of Clora?
The only way he could prove to himself that he was worthy was by not showing any feebleness and not succumbing to any weakness either.
The Slytherin took his duelling stance with Clora by his side as they faced Leander Prewett and Charlotte Morrison. Clora quickly and gently squeezed his hand, the way she always did before they duelled, as much of a question to his wellbeing as it was a sign of support. Sebastian could manage a weak but genuine smile back, breath hitching in his chest as he geared up for battle.
As soon as the safety grate lowered, the casts and spells flew thick and fast. Clora and Sebastian’s offensive and defensive style had been finely honed after years of duelling with each other, and their style reflected their personalities. There was also a bit of strategy involved in the way they duelled as partners. Sebastian was predictably unpredictable, dancing a frenzied tango as he darted from one side of the Clock Tower to the other with surprising agility, going on the offensive to draw the attention and fire away from Clora before dropping his attack. This lulled them into a false sense of security and Charlotte and Leander focussed all their energy on disarming Sebastian, leaving Clora unchecked and unmarked so she could disarm them instead. It was a classic bait-and-switch move; Sebastian seemed to be the be the bigger threat when in reality, it was Clora that would be their undoing, using precise and measured depulsos and descendos until she and Sebastian were the last ones standing.
Or, at least, that was the plan Sebastian was hoping to adhere to.
Charlotte’s basic cast caught Sebastian squarely in the chest; he hadn’t been fast enough to get his Shield charm up in time. The tightness in his chest magnified, his heart beating a rapid tattoo under his ribs and his breath hitched and caught in his throat, as if he was being strangled. The momentary weakness was his undoing; Leander shot a diffindo at him that sailed perilously close to his jugular and nicked his neck. Blood gushed out like a waterfall, ruby red coating the floor like a red-carpet invite for Charlotte and Leander to finish him off. One hand clamped down on his neck to stem the flow of blood, the other raised to his forehead to stop the dizziness from overtaking him. Sebastian was very careful to not drop his wand; that was considered a forfeit, and under no circumstances was he losing to the ginger twat who had been a thorn in his side since their first year.
Clora heard the grunt of pain from her fiancé and that kicked her protective, lioness streak into overdrive. With two rapid fire casts and two cries of expelliarmus, Clora quickly defeated Leander and Charlotte; that would secure hers and Sebastian’s win and keep their reputation of Hogwarts’ undefeated duelling partners three years in a row. She whirled around, face a visage of triumph and concern, only to find Sebastian crumpled on the floor like a papier-maiche sculpture that had been left out in the rain for too long, utterly unconscious.
***
The room was cold and white, and for the first time, Sebastian felt just a smidge, a modicum of comfort on what had been a no good, very bad, terrible day. Bleary eyes glanced down; he was naked save for a sheet that covered his modesty and several sponges that were continually bathing him in cool water. That explained why it felt like he wasn’t vacationing on the surface of the Sun.
An audible sniff drew his eyes off his body and onto the person in the chair next to him, buried in blankets as though they had been caught up in an Arctic tundra. There was a twinge beneath his ribs, a different kind of chest pain to the tightness he had been feeling all day, as he realised Clora was crying because of him. His arm stretched out and he gently wiped the single teardrop off her cheek.
“Don’t cry, Clora. I’m fine.”
“If you were fine, you wouldn’t have been admitted into St. Mungo’s.”
That was news to Sebastian, and he tried to push himself up into a seated position. The pressure he pushed through his palms caused the cut he acquired to throb against the mattress. “Why?”
“Because you have a rapidly spreading infection raging through your body from the cut on your hand. You’re stressed and exhausted to the point that the Healers don’t know how you were able to get out of bed this morning, you were dehydrated, running a fever, not to mention unconscious at lunch and by the time you were seen to, things has progressed too quickly and too far for Nurse Blainey to heal you in the Hospital Wing.” Clora let out a huff as she crossed her arms over her chest. “I find your self-sacrificial tendencies to be very hypocritical.”
Sebastian’s eyes narrowed and he frowned at her, challenging her to elaborate.
“You keep telling me that I don’t value my life the way I should, that I have a tendency to put myself on the line for others and consider them more important than myself, but from where I’m sitting, you’re just as guilty of that as I am.”
“You do consider other people more consequential than you, and your life is not inconsequential. You are far more important than anyone else on this planet, especially to me,” Sebastian asserted, somewhat hotly, mirroring her pose and crossing his arms over his chest. The number of times that they had picked at this bone of contention and hadn’t resolved it (and when he said resolved, what he meant was Clora backing down and accepting he was right) was starting to grate on his nerves.
“So are you!” Clora retorted, thrusting her hand under his nose so all Sebastian could see was the glimmer of her engagement ring under the harsh hospital lights. “When you asked me to marry you, you promised me my lifetime together, and even though logically I know it isn’t possible, I was so scared I lost you! Again, just like in our fifth year! And there wasn’t anything I could do!”
Hot tears spilled out from underneath Clora’s impressively long eyelashes, speech breaking as she voiced her fears. The twinge was back in Sebastian’s chest, pinching away at his heart like tiny little crabs; all he could do was sweep her into his arms and press his lips against hers, taste the berry of her Chapstick as he licked at her, hands trailing down the sides of her neck up through her hair until his hand rested on her hairclip.
“You’ll never lose me.” Sebastian’s words ghosted across her face as his fingers curled around the clip possessively and he tapped the heads of the snakes. “I made sure of that.”
Clora nodded against him and Sebastian was content to pick up where he left off, head dipping down so his lips could meet hers again, had it not been for the door to his room swinging open and Margaret Clemons whirl winding her way over to fuss over him, grabbing one of the levitating sponges near his arm and mopping at his forehead as she pulled him into her arms in a tight embrace. Sebastian stiffened and a light flush crept across his cheeks, neck and chest. He had no qualms about being almost naked in front of Clora – she was going to be his wife, she had seen and held all of him before and his body barred no secrets from her – but with his future mother-in-law so close he could smell her perfume? That was a different matter entirely, and he had never been more cognizant of how exposed he was.
Help me, Sebastian mouthed to Clora, who was rather unhelpfully giggling behind her hand at the fussing and the coddling her fiancé was being subjected to as she slid off the bed they were on. Even though they were engaged, there was still a semblance of propriety they had to pretend to adhere to. A frown marred his face, freckles knitting together like a bizarre join-the-dots puzzle as his hands crept down to ensure the sheet covering his lap and was firmly in place.
“Margaret, let the boy breathe.”
Never had Sebastian been so glad to hear the gravelly tones of Clive Clemons. Margaret released her vice-like grip on her future son-in-law and was gently led away from the side of his bed by her daughter.
“Come on, Mum, we need to send an owl to Anne to let her know how Sebastian is.” Clora led her mother out of the door, gracing her husband-to-be with a gentle smile as the door closed behind them with a thud.
An awkward, stilted silence filled the room. Despite Clive making his acceptance of Sebastian subtly known in the summer after their fifth year, Sebastian was still somewhat intimidated by the man. His eyes flicked up towards Clive, slightly embarrassed and vulnerable at his current state of undress but he figured Clive was preferable to Margaret – there was nothing Sebastian had that Clive, as a fellow male, hadn’t seen before.
“The Healers want to keep you in here until the end of the week to give you a chance to rest and heal up,” Clive began, pulling off his glasses and wiping them clean on the handkerchief that was in his hand. His lips twitched underneath his neatly trimmed moustache as he observed the outraged expression on Sebastian’s face.
“A week?! I can’t -!”
And Sebastian truly believed he couldn’t take time off to look out and look after himself, even though he had seen first-hand how pushing his needs last had detrimentally impacted Clora. The term was over at the end of the week – he still had a number of individual and group essays, presentations and projects that he needed to submit before Hogwarts broke up for the holidays. Considering Clora was not only his partner in life, but also his partner in academia, any blot on his exemplary academic achievements would taint Clora as well, and he was damned if he was the reason for that.
Short term pain for long term gain.
Sebastian’s protests were cut-off by Clive’s forestalling hand. “Clora will need to return to Hogwarts tonight until the end of term; there is still coursework and assessments she needs to complete. Margaret and I have arranged for your professors to forward your work onto us and we will bring it to you while you’re admitted here. Once complete, we will owl your work back to Hogwarts. Once you’re discharged, you’ll spend your Easter break with us. Anne and Ominis too, as well as your uncle, if he’s amenable to it. It’s all been taken care of."
There was a moment of silence, this time stunned instead of stilted.
“Thank you.” There was no mistaking the gratitude in the words Sebastian said as warm brown eyes regarded his future father-in-law. While he was still intimidated by the man, Sebastian had never truly realised just how fatherly Clive felt towards him until that moment.
“I may not be your biological father, Sebastian, and nor do I want to take the place of a man that holds a special place in your heart, but you and Anne are our family too, and Clemons’ will do anything for family. You have been my boy since that hunting trip with the Coopers and now that you are marrying my daughter and will be the father of my grandchildren, you will always be my boy.”
Sebastian nodded once more and hoped that one day, he might be comfortable enough to call the man standing in front of him dad. Clive saw the sentiment on Sebastian’s face as his hand reached up and squeezed the younger man’s shoulder. Brief, but steady and constant and warm, and in that gesture, Sebastian realised the gift Clora had given him when she agreed to be his wife.
For the first time in a long time, Sebastian had a functional family.