Disclaimer: none of the characters (except original characters) belong to me. No money is made from this; this is written purely for enjoyment's sake.

Of Sallow and Sharp

Aesop Sharp has been intrinsically linked to the Sallow family, ever since his boyhood. After the events of Sebastian Sallow's fifth year at Hogwarts, he wondered if there was something that could have been done to change it, a subtle sign that he had missed, or if Sebastian had straddled the path between darkness and light, as he was meant to all along.

Chapter One

The light streamed in through the window and Aesop Sharp squinted against it from where he lay. It had been a busy four months with the Aurors – he had been posted overseas in a joint effort with his French counterparts to collate and collect intelligence against a rising ring of Dark witches and wizards, and eventually raid them to catch the ringleaders – and after collecting the evidence and handing it onto the appropriate department, he was finally home. Absolutely spent, it felt as if he had only gotten a few hours of low quality sleep. 1876 looked to be a busy year for catching miscreants that threatened the safety of the magical community; it wasn't even May and he had assisted in over 30 arrests. He twisted around so that his back faced the window and closed his eyes, willing himself to succumb to sleep.

To no avail.

Once Aesop Sharp was awake, he was awake and the sun had determined he was awake.

He swung his body from the bed with a heaviness that belied his age and pottered around the kitchen. A cup of tea, a measured swallow of Wiggenweld potion to stave off the pain from injuries he had sustained with his job, and some toast for breakfast. That would ease the rough start he had had to his morning. A deft flick of his wand had the kettle brewing instantly and bread being smouldered over the fire until it resembled carbon rock; just the way he liked it.

Or, rather, just the way he had convinced himself he liked it; for all his brilliance, his wand work when it came to domestic chores was lacking.

The dainty teapot, saucer and cup levitated their way to the kitchen table and Aesop sipped delicately at the steaming drink. Black, bitter and scalding, just the way he liked it. He thought about what he would do with the few days off he had – medical leave, even though he had patched himself up after the raid. It would be nice to slow down, breathe and be, just for a few days. He glanced outside; the flowers were in bloom just by the river and he could see the Longbottom children playing tip with each other, innocent and without a care in the world, their parents looking on indulgently as they tended their hobby farm.

If only they knew what he had been up to the past few months, all in an attempt to safeguard children's future.

Aesop took another sip of his tea and thought about what it would be like to come home to that – a wife that could actually make him a decent tea and breakfast, children that delighted in his company, children that were his – and he thought back to the Dark Magic he had witnessed less than 24 hours ago. The image in his head deflated; it was not the right time, the world was not safe enough for him to even entertain such thoughts and his resolve to throw himself into his work when he returned to it deepened.

So caught up in his reverie, he didn't notice the owl that had been nudging his hand. He turned to it and removed the letter in the tawny bird's beak. The bird did not move, instead; the owl stared at him owlishly, indicating that a reply was needed.

Curiosity piqued, Aesop put down his cup of tea, opened up the letter and began to read.