The thing about Sebastian's family, was that all of them, save for he and his brother, were muggles – a fact he'd learnt to keep very private about given the sheer volume of pure-blood elitists in Slytherin, not that being called a 'Mudblood' would bother him in the slightest; it was simply easier to do without the attention. This was both a curse and a blessing for Sebastian. On the one hand, he'd be able to get away with things like this absurd plan of his without his parents ever suspecting what was going on, for the mundane fact that they'd have no idea where to begin with it. They were still trying to wrap their heads around the concept of magic alone. The curse part was Vince. If Vince had been a muggle, he'd be the leader of a drug ring or a shady money-laundering club – Sebastian had speculated about it many times. It was when Vince came home one day after months away (he told their parents that 'work kept him on the move' – which to them, could mean anything) wearing dragon-hide trousers that Sebastian suspected something fishy going on. No one without the right connections got a job that paid them that well after being out of school for only two years. Of course, when Sebastian had asked, he'd winked and said: "One day I'll introduce you to my work, little brother," which had frustrated him no end. Vince told their parents that he was working for the Department of Mysteries. They'd lapped that up without a second thought, much to Sebastian's dismay – lately, Vince had disclosed that he could get hold of absolutely anything he wanted to get his hands on. How? Ironically, it was a mystery. Vince was shrouded in the stuff – and he loved to play to the mysterious image. Despite Sebastian's misgivings with his brother, he decided that his best and perhaps only option at this point was to contact him.

"What does he look like?" Willow had shamelessly asked when Sebastian told her about him. They were emptying out of the Defence against the Dark Arts classroom – Sebastian had, once again found his gaze fixated on the back of Alex's curly-haired head. His stomach back flipped when Alex turned around and met his eye for a split second. Willow thwacked him hard on the arm.

"Oi. Are you listening?"

"Me, but a taller, sleazier version." Sebastian replied disapprovingly, all the while watching Alex pack away his books.

Willow thought about this. "So, better looking, basically?"

Sebastian sighed. Alex could definitely hear all of this – Willow certainly wasn't the quiet type. That's why he preferred to talk to her alone.

"He'd tell you that." Said Sebastian.

Willow tutted. "Speaking of – you should take better care of your appearance – your hair's too long."

He rolled his eyes. "I don't care. Stop fussing over me." Sebastian's hair was the polar opposite to Alex's rusty, wild curls; it was dark, smooth and straight, constantly threatening to hang over his clear, grey eyes and just about long enough to tie up, which he often did.

By now, Alex was being led by his troupe of ecstatic followers from the classroom. Sebastian had noticed a change in Alex recently; his smiles around his friends were becoming fewer and fewer – more often than not his gaze was far-away and glassy. It was times like this that Sebastian wished he could be close to Alex and talk to him. It was times like this that reminded him why he was going to such drastic measures to get there. Their eyes met momentarily for a second time. Sebastian turned away. That was happening so much today…

Willow had been following his gaze. She raised an eyebrow at him. "Really? Do you want to be more obvious? I think a couple of people over in Durmstrang weren't dazzled by your longing stares."

Sebastian glared at her.

"I'll tell Natalie Ford what you did to her cat." He threatened.

Willow put on a winning smile. "Want me to carry some of your books?"

That night, he and Willow constructed a letter to Vince in the common room. Emerald flames licked the marble fireplace and glowed across the blank parchment.

"Surely he'll guess what it's for." Said Willow. "I mean… what else can you use Boomslang Skin for?"

"Some ageing potions." Said Sebastian tapping his chin. "And the Girding potion… I think."

He began the letter:

Vince,

I'm writing to ask if you could possibly obtain –

"Wait, wait, wait" – Willow stopped him. "That sounds a bit – formal."

Sebastian looked at her. "And?"

"Well, he's your brother. Why don't you put, 'Dear, Vince.'"

Sebastian snorted. "Yeah, right. My 'dear' brother. That's funny."

He continued:

I'm writing to ask if you could possibly obtain Boomslang skin and send it to me.

"You're just gonna jump right in there and ask for it?" Said Willow, frowning at the page.

Sebastian huffed and thrust the parchment at her. "Why don't you write it, then? Merlin's beard, it's not a bloody love letter."

Willow rolled her eyes. "Men. You haven't got an ounce of subtlety."

"I don't need subtlety. I need to make Polyjuice potion."

He finished the letter with Willow in haughty silence beside him. She read it over and handed it back with a sniff.

"It'll do." She said. "But I'm sure it would help if you sounded a little nicer."

He shook his head. "You don't know Vince. He thinks I'm an idiot so it doesn't matter anyway."

Willow frowned. "How old is he?"

"Twenty-one." Said Sebastian, "Why? Don't get any funny ideas."

Willow smirked. "I might. I'd love to see my dad's face if I brought home a criminal." She laughed at his expression. "I'm joking. I'm sure he doesn't think you're an idiot. Older siblings always baby the younger ones – it's natural."

"Whatever you say." Said Sebastian. Willow was giving him that look again. That pitying look like he was missing something huge about himself that only she could see. It annoyed him because it was probably true. "I'll post the letter tomorrow. With any luck, we'll have the ingredients by next week. We have a Transfiguration test tomorrow. Let's go to bed."

The next day, it snowed – the first snow of the year, and it certainly didn't disappoint. Huge, fat snowflakes adorned the Hogwarts grounds and iced the many turrets and ledges like a giant cake. By the time Sebastian had started to make his way to the owlery, he was ankle deep in snow, and shivering despite being wrapped up in three scarves. He didn't do well with the cold. The owlery steps were steep and small and, to Sebastian's dismay, icy as they could possibly be. The climb to the owlery took him a long time, he was being so precarious, all the while his letter to Vince was clutched in his hand, the parchment getting soaked in the snow. He'd used non-smudgeable ink so hopefully the worst that would happen was that the parchment would get crinkly once it dried.

The owlery itself was pleasant refuge from the cold and snow. Usually, Sebastian would be mildly disgusted by the floor, covered in owl droppings and the strong smell, but all that seemed to create a refreshing heat. Sebastian tried hard not to think about where it came from as he picked a tawny owl and tied his letter to its leg.

As Sebastian left the owlery, he almost bumped into someone.

"Sorry." He said, stumbling back inside, and then he got the shock of his life when he saw a tuft of bronze curls sticking out from under a thick, woolly hat. He stared, his heart stopped, into a pair of wide green eyes.

"It's okay." Said Alex.

This was the first time they'd said a word to each other since that night five years ago. Sebastian felt his stomach drop to his knees. He stumbled past Alex at the top of the stairs, his head lowered, and in his haste to get away, slipped on the ice.

Sebastian fell backwards spectacularly and slid down at least ten steps before coming to a halt, flat on his back. Numb, Sebastian scrambled upright, holding onto the wall and dared himself to look back.

Alex stood still at the top, his hand outstretched in mid-air where he'd tried to stop Sebastian from falling down. Their eyes met, both equally shocked, for a full second, before Alex's face broke out into an unstoppable grin and he doubled over laughing, his cheeks and the tip of his nose reddened by the cold.

All Sebastian could do was stare at him, his mouth slightly agape in surprise. He didn't know what to do, what to say. Alex's laugh was so wonderful, so heartfelt, even though he was trying his best to cover it with his hands, it bubbled through in joyous bursts, and Sebastian was lost to it. Alex stopped when he realised that Sebastian wasn't laughing too. He opened his mouth, as though to speak, then closed it.

Sebastian was washed, then, with a wave of embarrassment. He'd just fallen, flat on his arse, in front of the person he'd been in love with for five years, and had absolutely nothing to say for himself.

Distraught with himself, Sebastian turned around sharply and bolted down the stairs as quickly as he could. The falling snow melted on his face, it was so heated with humiliation. He couldn't believe what had just happened. Most of all, he couldn't believe that Alex had almost spoken to him. He'd laughed at him, yes, but nothing about it had been malicious or directed at Sebastian in a nasty way. Rather, he'd seemed genuinely amused and almost familiar with Sebastian. It was strange. Perhaps Alex didn't hate him so much after all.