Chapter 6 – Witch Hunt

4th September 2019: Seb

How difficult should it be to find a redhead in a school of a few hundred people? 'Not very' would be the usual answer. Typically, this school isn't 'usual' by any stretch of the imagination. It is Weasley-infested, and whilst I should be thanking this fact, for I would never have felt my heart race as it had on the train, I spent the first three days of my last year at Hogwarts cursing it. I had mistaken Dominique for Molly 5 times, third-year Rose for the sixth-year three times and little Lily Potter for her cousin twice. Luckily, I'd never gone directly up to the girls, that would have been extremely embarrassing, but I had merely seen them, felt my breathing jolt until they turned around. When I saw Dominique's chiselled features and choppy red locks framing her face for the last time, I could have screamed. I was sure that these Weasleys would be the end of me, even at a mere seventeen years old.

I'd almost given up, resigned myself to the fact that maybe I had dreamed her up, when on my way back to my common room from Transfiguration, I spotted her coming towards me halfway down the corridor. She was chatting excitedly to the chubby girl from the train, who I prayed would turn left and head off down to the Charms classroom, or double back to Divination. My prayers were answered and I hissed a 'Thank you' to whoever would listen. The girl smiled a goodbye to Molly and disappeared to the right through a door disguised as a portrait. I darted to the opposite side of the corridor, pretending not to have noticed her. I looked down subtly. She was only a few yards away now. I dared not look at her face, for fear of what I might see. I looked down at the floor instead, hunching my shoulders a little.

"I'm sorry!"

Her apologetic voice came teamed with a sharp thud on my hip, as her bag swung into my side. It seemed like she hadn't even noticed me. I'm sure I heard a gasp and I looked down to face her. She seemed smaller as she clutched her bag tighter to her body and looked at me sheepishly. Then her face contorted into a light smile as she recognised me and I relaxed a little.

"Seb!" She sounded so happy to see me. I forced the broad grin away, instead raising my lips into a satisfactory smile.

"Milly," I smoothly replied. She frowned in what I can only assume to have been confusion at my error. Half of me wanted to smirk, the other half, the stronger half, wanted to apologise and correct myself.

"It's Molly," she muttered, so quietly that if I hadn't expected the response, I surely would not have heard. I nodded.

"Sorry, never been much good with names. Where are you off to?" I tried to ask it as nonchalantly as possible. I didn't want to come across as a stalker. I chuckled to myself a little. That was only the beginning.

"Oh, well, the library," she said, glancing up at me quickly, before refocusing her gaze on what must have been a very interesting flagstone. I smiled.

"Me too. Do you want me to walk with you?"

She seemed confused by the fact that I'd been walking in totally the wrong direction to be going to the library, but wisely chose not to argue and nodded. Her hair fell into her eyes and I had the urge to push it away for her. Instead, she did it herself, swiftly and messily, and began to walk off again. I hurried behind her, having to slow myself down to keep her pace. She barely came up to my chest, I noted, as we walked over to the library in complete silence.

"NEWT Transfiguration is so hard."

Her statement came out of nowhere and she sounded genuinely upset by it. We veered left into the library, past the desk of the ageing librarian, Achilles Sykes. He stared beadily at us, but with a smile from me, one of the regulars, he relaxed and smiled back, his crooked teeth bared. I let Molly guide me down to the Transfiguration section and sit down with a dejected thump at a table. I sat opposite her, trying to think of some comfort.

"Wait until you start with Potions. It's impossible."

Yeah, Seb, really comforting, that. Tell her it can only get worse. Molly groaned at my words and her head fell forwards onto her arms. I made out a strangled 'Why?' from her and I cursed myself.

"It'll get better," I said wistfully. She lifted her head so her chin was instead resting on her forearms and she could see me properly.

"Really?" She sounded so trusting, she had so much belief in what I said. Me. A guy she'd met only once before. It made me want to jump up and punch the air.

"Yeah. They say things can only get better, don't they?" I soothed. She looked at me, her big blue eyes penetrating my gaze, deciphering its true meaning. I stared back at her, trying to show that I wasn't lying. She seemed to believe me because she hauled her head off the table and slumped back in her chair.

"In that case, can you please help me with this? I have to practice Partial Vanishment and I have no idea where to start." She held out a book, a chapter marked with a purple-tassled bookmark. I glanced over the heading and smiled.

"It's easy. This is OWL level, Molly," I said pointedly. She sighed and informed me about her inability to Vanish a whole thing, let alone Partial Vanishing. "Well, come here. I'll show you." I pointed to a chapter in her book and took out my wand. It took me fifteen minutes to get her to understand how to Vanish something, and an additional fifteen to get her to actually perform the spell. After that, Partial Vanishment was a doddle.

When she successfully Vanished the feathers of my quill, though not the quill itself, she squealed quietly and grinned at me. "Thank you! I owe you." I shrugged it off.

"Anytime." She grinned and looked back to her book, slamming it shut loudly and triumphantly. I couldn't help but give a 'shush' and she frowned. "Do you want to get chucked out?" I hissed, tilting my head towards the front of the library, where I was sure that Mr. Sykes was preparing to find the perpetrator and throw them out. She blushed lightly and shook her head like a school girl. Well, given that that is exactly what she was, it was unsurprising. "Sorry. I'm not scolding you. I just don't want him to hold a grudge against you, that's all." She nodded in understanding. We were silent for a moment before –

"So, what's NEWT Potions like then?"

I groaned and she giggled at the noise. I looked up at her under my eyes and her cheeks reddened a little. Or maybe that was my wishful thinking. I had no choice but to tell her the truth – I was hopeless at Potions. When I said it to her, she laughed. "And there's me thinking that Harper had let us off easy on the first lesson," she said with a cheeky smile. She seemed to be having another internal struggle before she blurted out, "I love Potions." I was taken aback by this and laughed incredulously.

"How?" I sounded ridiculous, I knew that. I shook my head in disbelief. "It's just guesswork. One wrong move and you've made a complete hash of it. No, Transfiguration is much easier."

"Yes. Where if you don't swish your wand enough, you'll make a cup turn into a parrot instead of giving it another handle," she replied, an eyebrow raised, daring me to argue. I thought for a second and remembered my mother's voice 'If you can't give a witty answer in five seconds, give up.' So I did, reluctantly. She sat back in her chair, arms folded across her chest over the emblem sewn onto her robes. I leant forwards, arms resting on the edge of the table. "You know, it's really easy, once you get the hang of it." It took me a second to backtrack into the conversation. "I mean it," she added with a glance at me. I raised my own eyebrows and she shook her head. "I'm going to do Potions research after school, I think," she said dreamily. "Aunt Ginny has this friend who does that kind of thing. I'm sure she could put in a good word for me."

"So children of future generations are going to learn all about your discoveries?" I had to admit, it sounded fascinating. She nodded enthusiastically.

"You sounded pretty interested by that, admit it," she prompted with a giggle. Her eyes focused upon mine, I felt like I was staring into the sun, she was blinding me. I laughed softly too and nodded. "I knew it!" It fell out of her mouth smoothly and with a broad grin gracing her lips.

"Molly?"

The voice came from behind me. Her grin fell a little, a barely noticeable amount, and a tall blond boy came into view. She opened her mouth and words escaped her for a moment. I glanced contemptuously up at him; he looked a little disorientated and confused.

"Harrison."

Her voice was a whisper, and she pushed back her chair, rose and reached up to hug him. Her arms came up to his neck whilst his wrapped around her waist. I imagined myself in that position; my head resting on her shoulder instead of his, my hair that she was wrapping around her fingers as she held onto my neck. 'So this is what jealousy feels like,' my mind mused as I watched, unable to tear my eyes away.

They drew apart and I watched him dip his head to kiss her. With a barely detectable glance at me, Molly turned her head so his lips met her freckled cheek. The poor boy looked terribly confused as Molly stepped back from his embrace and looked down at her work. She gathered it messily together and shoved it all inside her bag. She looked across to me, just a fleeting glance as though it meant nothing. I had the urge to ask her to stay, to tell this boy, her boyfriend, that she was helping me and he'd have to wait but I resisted. She clearly wanted to leave, as she threw her bag on her shoulder and took him by the hand.

"Thanks for the help," she muttered, not meeting my gaze. I had a good mind to tell her where to go for help next time, but couldn't bring myself to.

"Anytime."

I found myself saying, kicking the chair that she'd pushed back under the table with my left foot. I was staring down at the desk, willing her to leave when I felt her hand on my shoulder, accompanied by a gentle squeeze. I didn't dare lift my eyes. I didn't want to see her face, I didn't know what I'd do, so I merely shrugged my shoulder so that her hand fell away and continued to glare at the knot in the oak table that I apparently found very interesting.

Once the soft padding of her shoes on the carpet of the library floor died away, I groaned and looked up to the top of the bookshelf opposite me, putting my hands behind my head and shaking it. I checked my watch swiftly and swore. I'd managed to miss the first fifteen minutes of double Defence already. Professor Rackharrow was going to kill me. I shoved all my work into my bag and ran from the library, shouting an apology to Sykes on my way out. I could see the blond's head bouncing down the corridor ahead.

Not wanting to come across them again, I instead took the long route through a tapestry, and pelted down the next corridor to the Defence classroom. I stood outside for a few minutes to catch my breath. I clutched my side and cursed the lack of exercise I'd undertaken over the summer. Once my heart was beating at a passable rate, I took a last deep breath and opened the door quietly and quickly, praying the teacher was in a good mood.

--

Alas, my prayer went unanswered and I was awarded my first detention of the year. The jumped up professor had told me to sit down beside Delphine Urquhart and to be quiet. I slid into the seat beside the promiscuous blonde and drew out my things as silently as possible. Of course, when one is trying to be silent, it never quite works and I found every eye in the room staring at me beadily. I shook my hair into my eyes, trying to look more and more like a shadow but every little noise I made seemed to be amplified by a thousand. Just when I thought I'd get away with the inevitable detention, I heard, "And Mr Becker? Thirty points from Slytherin. See me after class."

The four other Slytherins in the room groaned and Delphine glared at me sideways. I bit my tongue to stop myself from making comment. I'd try and sweet talk Rackharrow after the lesson. Instead, I focused on trying to be as quiet as a mouse, the only noise I would make would be my quill scratching the surface of my parchment as I noted down the professor's words.

As I emerged from the Defence classroom an hour later holding a detention slip, I was positively fuming. I'd always been so careful with Rackharrow, one of the most difficult teachers in the school. I always handed in homework on time, arrived to each lesson early, but no matter how many positive actions I'd undertaken, it counted for nothing with her. Fuming, I pushed past lost first-years and chattering, giggling girls and stormed down to the common room. I wasn't in the mood to eat, even as the smell of chicken and chips floated out from the Great Hall, a temptress seducing my senses. I stormed down the staircase to the dungeons, glad of the damp smell and dripping ceiling that came with it, taking my mind off the need for food. I yelled the password at the stretch of wall, and I was positive that had it been a portrait, I'd have received a mountain load of back chat. As it was, I was able to get into the common room quickly, and ignoring Adam's shouts from the settee as to what Rackharrow had had to say to me, I flew into my dorm and onto my bed, pulling the hangings shut with such force that I was surprised they hadn't ripped off.

I didn't go to Charms that day, and I didn't head upstairs for dinner either. I was still reeling from the punishment. I'd only had five detentions in my life: none of which had been my fault exactly. I had punched my pillow so many times that a dent had formed in the centre, curved exactly to the shape of my fist. How could that girl have made time stop for me? How did she make ninety minutes seem like ten? It was impossible. But none of that mattered. She'd damaged me. Such a seemingly innocent girl was harbouring something else inside her, something that made me different, something that was changing me every second I spent with her.

My mind was turning in circles. If she came after me, what would I do? Would I let myself be changed by this tiny person, this girl who should be so insignificant to me? Or would I walk away, be as strong as I'd been all my life and leave it as it was before September 1st? In a few hours, she'd changed me. She was more than just a mediocre witch, she was more captivating than Victoire and Dominique put together and trying to pinpoint what it was that made her so was infuriating. I let a confused, exasperated groan fall from my mouth. I slammed myself back down onto my pillows, drew my hangings with a flick of my wand and fell into a light, restless slumber.


A/N: -squee- This chapter is my ultimate favourite (until chapter 8) - I adore Seb. It's probably not healthy to love an OC this much!

Anyone share my feelings towards him?

(If it helps, if I were to cast someone to play him, it'd be Tom Sturridge!)