Chapter Text
The first time Sebastian met her, they were in their fifth-year.
She was new: a transfer student from Italy with foreign relatives, at least from her father’s side. The circumstances weren’t quite favourable, though, as the reason for their first meeting was Sebastian being a good friend after Ominis wronged her, and trying to mend the ties between the two of them.
When Sebastian dared to ask his friend what the reason for their disagreement was, the blond only blushed in embarrassment, before uttering two simple words that made his breath hitch. “Women’s rights.”
"I'm sure I can charm my way in as always," Sebastian replied confidently after the blond expressed his own doubts. "Just tell me where you think we can find this Miss ____."
“I think I know where she spends her time when not in the Common Room,” Ominis said grimly, as he began to lead his friend through the corridors. “Thank you, Sebastian, but I must warn you… she’s very stubborn. You might not be able to convince her so easily.”
"Anything for you my friend." Sebastian smiled, completely ignoring the last statement, and followed Ominis around as the blond, he realised after a few minutes, led him towards the Library. He smiled despite himself as they entered the familiar place and started scanning for anyone whom he didn't recognise.
As they turned a corner, he stopped abruptly. At the end of the aisle stood a girl pacing back and forth with a tome in her hands, frowning slightly as she read through the pages.
Sebastian immediately noticed the typical Mediterranean features, such as the curve of her hips that appeared from time to time as her robes swung around her body with each step, her olive-toned but flawless skin, and her big, deep eyes adorned with long, thick lashes.
He felt his breath catch at the elegance with which she moved, not exactly confident per se, no — on the contrary, the way her shoulders slumped a little and her legs stayed close together with each step showed a complete lack of the usual poise purebloods usually had. She moved like a Muggle, but her steps held a commensurate regality to her family's supposed high esteem, and the way her head ducked slightly toward the book told him that she had been prepared for more in life than holding a profession in the wizarding world.
"That's Miss ____? If only you could see her… you would've fallen to your knees during the argument." Sebastian leaned in to whisper to Ominis: his tone was definitely teasing but there was some wonder in it.
Ominis nudged his arm, letting out a bashful laugh. “I can easily sense it as well.”
Sebastian looked down at him, and at the wand glowing red in his hands. It never failed to fascinate him.
“You better keep your wits about you. She nearly bit my head off and no matter how many times I tried to retort, she always seemed one step ahead.” The Gaunt boy sighed and then gave the brunet a small knowing smile. “I think she's already got you wrapped around her finger though. You can't blame me for not falling for her, I never did have that much of a thing for romance.”
"Is that so?" Sebastian teased him, stealing glances at the girl and noticing the way her bottom lip slightly disappeared under her top one every once in a while. "Well, I'll go get your forgiveness and perhaps..." He trailed off with a slight smirk, now taking a long, not-so-subtle look. "Your blessing as well?"
“I’m no priest.” Ominis let out a small laugh. “She’s really got a hold on you, hasn’t she? I can only wish you my best of luck. And if all else fails, you have my blessing to give up.”
"Oh, really? Always glad to know I can count on you.” Sebastian rolled his eyes and nudged his arm. “Watch me, then."
He fixed his collar and took a deep breath, before approaching the girl. "Hello, are you Miss ____?"
The girl looked up from her book, surprised. "That's me, how can I help you?"
She stared him up and down, her eyes piercing through him, whether willingly or not, he couldn’t tell.
“I’m Sebastian Sallow.” He greeted. “I’m a friend of Ominis, I’m sure you’ve met before. He had mentioned you as a transfer student from Italy. Beauxbatons, I suppose?”
“Ominis, you said?” She repeated, her tone laced with a hint of annoyance. She discarded his question and her eyes narrowed. "Came to mock as well, have you then?"
"Certainly not," he said, trying to maintain a friendly cadence in his voice. "I'm here on his behalf in fact. He has, well, in his own words, done you a great disservice, and I'm here to ask for your forgiveness, should you be willing to hear it.”
She quirked an eyebrow at that, and he suddenly was all too aware of his own breathing. He continued nonetheless.
"You must excuse his manners, his views can be... rather narrow-minded, as you can see. And not of his own volition." He paused for a moment, trying not to take his eyes off hers. That would not look very assertive in a situation like that. "If you want to hear me out, I mean. I can understand if you don’t think he's worth your time."
"I see he is so contrite that he had to send you to atone for his mistakes instead of fixing them on his own." She said sarcastically. "Me and Ominis Gaunt have nothing to do with each other, he had made his stances pretty clear and our conversation ended hours ago."
Her tone was full of distaste and he bit his lower lip, trying not to grimace. "That's fair," he sighed slowly. "I wouldn’t do anything differently in your position, frankly. I will not force you to do anything, Miss ____, I know how valuable a person's time is. Just know that Ominis does feel remorse, even though he may not show it at the moment. He just needs time."
"I don't believe in apologies, Mr Sallow. I believe in actions." She said sternly. "And in cowardice."
His heart gave a slight jump at the weight of her words, and he definitely should have defended his best friend's honour better, but as a breach of trust, he felt a small smile creep onto his face.
"You know, I like you, Miss ____," he admitted, surprised at himself. "You're not afraid to tell people the truth. And I agree with you: Words mean nothing if they aren't followed by actions. I can assure you that Ominis is ready to show his remorse. You need only tell me what you'd like him to do, and I'm sure he'll comply."
"Mr. Sallow, I appreciate your willingness to help your friend," she said tersely. "But the offended shouldn't be the one to tell the offender how to make amends."
Damn, Ominis wasn't lying, the boy thought to himself.
"Good point." He admitted with a small smile. "You're right, he should be the one to prove his sincerity. If he can't think of anything himself, then he's just showing he doesn't mean it."
She nodded in agreement, not letting her guard down. “Is that all, or is there something else?”
"Do you think you can forgive him if he finds a way to make reparations?” He asked, more out of curiosity than anything else. He was actually impressed with how the girl handled the whole situation, especially because he had to stifle a snarky remark to Ominis himself after the latter had told him about their conversation word for word. He had expected her to be a bit more spiteful, given she was the offended party here.
"If he demonstrates that he has truly changed his mind and shows it with his actions, not words, then yes... I'm willing to forgive him."
"You are very reasonable. Most people would not be willing to forgive so easily, if at all," he admitted, and his voice was full of genuine admiration. He glanced around, his eyes falling on her book, and the corners of his eyes wrinkled slightly.
“Well, it’s no use holding grudges when they’re repentable. It’s neither wise, nor reasonable, as you mentioned. Would that mean I’m both those things?”
"Oh, it definitely does. After all, it takes one to know one," he answered with a hint of arrogance in his voice. "You're a rare gem, you know that, Miss ____?"
She gave him a small, almost contemptuous smile. "Flattery won't make me forgive him faster, Mr Sallow, I hope you know that." She closed the book and put it back on the shelf.
"I did not expect it would," he replied with a smile of his own. "But I did not lie. You're a very sharp young woman. You know how the world works, and you're not afraid to speak your mind. That's a rare thing and it's what makes you so... unique."
“Unique, you say?” She flashed her eyebrows, amused.
"You're like a lighting bolt through the fog that lights up what's hidden in the middle. I envy that."
She raised an eyebrow slightly as his attempt to a simile. "Lightning cannot travel through the fog. It will disperse in it through the water droplets.”.
“Alright, keep your scientific knowledge above me.” He rolled his eyes, unable to ignore the heat rising to his cheeks at his failure. She shook her head slightly.
“Everyone should learn how to live in this world, and many people are afraid to speak their truth in fear of judgement from others. I don't believe we should annul ourselves to fit in with other people." Her fingers lightly touched the covers of the books resting on the shelves. He followed the motion.
"Unless..." She gave a small smile. "It can benefit us."
"You're quite the philosopher too, aren't you?" He couldn't help but grin. "A better philosopher than I am a poet, I can see. 'Know thyself', as that old Greek philosopher said. Your ancestors must've passed down such a trait, I can't imagine anyone with Italian ancestry has anything but deep thinkers within them."
“You mean Socrates?” She commented, amused. "I guess that's a trait only someone with a romantic background can have. As seen by your poetry.”
He turned his head away for a moment with a dampened smile. “We do also have some exceptional poets, though, don’t we? Even Muggle poets aren’t that bad.”
“Ah, yes. I love me some Shakespeare," she said with a hint of irony a small smirk playing on her lips.
“I think Chaucher is pretty good, as well. He wrote some classics, too. I loved the Canterbury Tales,” he retorted, tilting his head slightly as he looked at her, awaiting. Sebastian found himself wanting to impress her. Why, he had no idea.
“I prefer the Decameron,” and there was her prompt answer as she gave him a playful grin.
His heart skipped a beat.
“I see what you’re doing there.” He smiled impishly. “Can’t blame you, though I haven't gotten around to reading it yet.”
“Then I suppose you should start at the source," the girl shrugged, tapping over the hard book covers.
He glanced at her delicate hand and the repetitive movement, enchanted, then turned back to her. “You read a lot of books, don't you?”
“Enough to keep up-to-date.”
He couldn't help but chuckle, feeling a little more seen than his comfort usually allowed him to be. "Is that where you get your sharp wit from?”
“I prefer to think of it as an innate ability, but I suppose a few more fancy words to expand my lexicon won’t hurt.”
“Fancy words, eh? What for?"
“You can accomplish much more with an adequate parlance in certain situations than with all the gold in the world," she explained toughtfully, her voice clear and proud and a little teasing. There was the philosopher again.
“Ah, I see. Is that what you’re doing now?” He couldn't help but ask, not tearing his eyes off hers. And her eyes were particularly enchanting, he noted, with various flecks of colour gleaming in the soft warm light of the Library toarches. And perhaps—
“Am I charming you, Mr Sallow?” She interrupted his thoughts and he dearly hoped no unwanted extra pigment made its way through his cheeks.
“I want to trust that my spirit is stronger than that.” He cleared his throat. “So, that’s what you meant by benefiting from other people?”
“Sometimes we need to pave our own way to reach a point, other times it's better to... steal a ride from someone?”
"Very wisely said," he replied with a little laugh. "So, how would you... steal a ride?" He continued thoughtfully. "I see no other way than to be true to oneself. If your goal is to reach a point, wouldn't it be better to forge your own path rather than take someone's? At the risk of sounding arrogant myself."
"If a path is already paved and it's the shortest way to your goal, it would be a pity not to use it." She looked up at him. "To be true to oneself doesn't mean to be hubristic, Mr Sallow."
"I admit you have a point. If one wants to get to a destination as soon and with as little effort as possible, the path of least resistance is the best, but at the same time, aren't we meant to overcome adversity and find our own path? I find that much more rewarding than simply following in someone else's footsteps."
"For example, your friend Ominis sending you to beg for his forgiveness instead of doing it himself?"
He couldn't help but chuckle softly at that. "You're quite the sharp one, Miss ____. It’s becoming rather impressive."
She raised her eyebrows in surprise and he gave her a small smile in return.
"I suppose I'm the hypocrite here, aren't I?"
"Quite," she smiled as well. "But you should go back to him, he seems quite on edge in that corner." Her face fell at the sight of the other boy. "Anything else I can help you with?"
"You really have me cornered," he said, his eyebrows raising in amusement. "I'm beginning to realise I'm not nearly as clever as I think I am — or maybe it's just that you are cleverer. In any case, you're quite the conversationalist." His eyes crinkled at her. "I have nothing more to ask right now. Except..." He took a small step forward. "Would you like to meet sometime… and talk some more?"
"Now who's the blunt one, Mr Sallow?" Despite that, she gave him a small nod. "But sure, I suppose I don't hate the idea."
"I'm glad. You seem like someone I would like to keep as a friend."
"Ah, so it's a mere question of convenience," she said teasingly. "Tell your friend Ominis that he has to work harder for my forgiveness, but I suppose you haven't made his mistakes, yet, so I can accept the idea, Mr Sallow."
He scoffed playfully at that, before saying: "You can call me Sebastian…”
“Can I now?” She flashed her eyebrows at him and shook her head. “I suppose the Wizarding World works differently. All right, Sebastian it is.”
He frowned a little, noticing she didn’t reciprocate his courtesy to use her first name. “Good. And for what it's worth, having you for a friend wouldn't just be for my convenience," he said, amused. "So?"
"I suppose I can grant you that privilege." The corner of her lips raised slightly in a teasing grin. "Now I'll leave you to your friend, it seems like you two have a lot to talk about."
He laughed softly, his eyes following her as she walked past him. "Privilege, is it? You make it sound like charity."
In that moment, he realised he liked being teased by her: it never felt mean-spirited, and he found himself hoping that encounter would only be the first of many.
"Wait!" He called after her a moment later. "One last question, if that's alright?"
She stopped, a bit surprised, and turned around. "What is it?"
"You mentioned earlier my friend Ominis should have a way of making reparations if he was serious about forgiveness. I wouldn't want to impose," he asked, "but could you at least tell me where he stands?"
She looked at him for a second, before sending him a charming smile.
"He stands on the edge of a cliff," she simply said, before turning around again and leaving the Library.
And he knew he was done for when he felt an amused smile pull at his lips as he watched her go.