A/N: This story is cross-posted on my AO3 account under the same name.
I've been wanting to write this story since I discovered the game a few months ago. The tags and rating are based on the plans I currently have in my mind for how the plot will develop, not necessarily on this first chapter. The themes will become increasingly darker as the story progresses.
I hope you enjoy!
"Time for a proper Hogwarts welcome."
Deep brown eyes pierced her where she stood, sending shivers down her spine. His low chuckle spread slowly across her skin and left goosebumps in its wake. Something in his voice tantalized her, drew her in, helpless to resist.
She took a ready stance, and not a moment too soon as she narrowly dodged his opening cast. Spells flew back and forth across the narrowing distance between them. Her breath came faster, heart pumping, blood singing with the thrill of the duel.
Just as she caught him off guard with a well-timed Levioso, she felt her own feet leave the ground as he called out, "Accio!" Before she could blink, she had slammed into his chest as they both tumbled off the platform.
He broke her fall, arms coming up automatically to draw her into his chest and keep her from hitting the stone floor. The breath was knocked out of her lungs, and she struggled to inhale. All she could feel was his warm, solid body beneath her. He let out a low moan of pain as they fell to the floor, practically sighing into her ear. She felt all the blood in her body rush to her face.
"Are you all right?" She pushed up off of him, placing a hand on his chest and moving as if to rise from the floor. Her hair had begun falling free of its pins, and she tried unsuccessfully to brush it out of her face. But his expression froze her in place, kneeling over him as he sat up.
Those deep brown eyes were half-lidded, and his lips were slightly parted. He looked at her with undisguised desire and surprising vulnerability. His messy waves were even more disheveled than usual after their tumble, and she felt her hand raise to run her fingers through them as though it belonged to someone else. Satisfaction thrummed through her chest as she watched his eyes close for a moment at her touch. His hand caught her own, stilling the motion.
"Sebastian?" She breathed his name, and his lips curled into the beginning of a wicked smile. She hurriedly glanced around, realizing their compromising position was the height of impropriety.
Yet the classroom was suddenly empty. And in fact, was not the classroom at all. Instead, they were surrounded by tall bookshelves and strange objects and partially obscured by the dim lamplight of the Restricted Section. No nosy ghosts or poltergeists were in sight.
They were all alone.
She had only a moment to wonder at this before he pulled her back down to him with a hand behind her head, fingers tangling in her dark hair. And then his lips met hers and all thoughts left her mind. The kiss was bruising, overpowering, and yet somehow still impossibly soft. All she could do was feel, focusing only on the sensation of his body under her own and his hands in her hair.
Somehow she found herself with her back pressed to the stone floor. It should have been uncomfortable, but all she could register was the overwhelming sensation of needing more of him. His kisses trailed hungrily from her jaw down to where her neck met her collarbone, and she arched into him. She sighed his name, running both of her hands through his hair, and felt him hum with pleasure. His fingers fumbled with her clothing, exposing porcelain skin.
Her mind was hazy, swimming in the bliss of the moment. All she could think about was touching more of his skin, kissing him more deeply, making him moan out her name. Nothing about this made sense. But nothing had to.
"Vera. . ."
Her whole body responded to the sound of her name leaving his lips in a rasp that was absolutely sinful. The sound of being unmistakably wanted electrified her and nearly sent her over the edge. "Yes?"
"Vera. . ."
Then abruptly, his warmth was ripped away from her.
"VERA!"
She was cowering in fear, hiding in the dark. Terror filled her chest, the addiction of desire giving way to all-consuming panic. Her heart thundered in her ears, almost as loudly as the sounds of stomping boots and shattering dishes.
"VERA!"
The roar of masculine rage gave way to the roar of a dragon. She screamed as half of the carriage was ripped away and Mr. Osric met his end in the creature's violent jaws.
"Vera, give me your hand!"
She was falling, falling, falling through the air after Professor Fig. Hand outstretched, she couldn't reach him. She was going to die.
"Vera!"
Breathing hard, she sat straight upright, struggling to disentangle herself from the sheets that had wrapped around her like constricting serpents. Her nightdress clung to her with sweat. The darkness was oppressive, and she imagined she could see grotesque faces sneering at her, worsening her panic. She fumbled in the dark for her wand, snatching it from the bedside table and pulling it within the emerald curtains around her bed.
"Lumos!"
Blessedly, soft light from her wand tip illuminated the darkness, and she was able to calm her racing heart. The heavy curtains kept the light from waking her roommates. Shaking, she focused on steadying her breathing.
Nightmares were nothing new. She could chase them away with lamplight easily enough. She had been doing so her whole life.
But the other dream. . .
Vera shivered, remembering. Reveling, just a little. Then her face flushed hot as she realized the direction of her thoughts.
I should feel dirty, ashamed, she thought. These were not the dreams of a proper young woman. And yet, all she could feel was that same desire, coiled in a shadowy corner of her mind. Biding its time, returning now to hibernate. But ready to strike upon being awakened.
"Nox." Calmer now, she extinguished her light and closed her eyes. There were hours yet until she had to be up. As she drifted off to sleep, those deep brown eyes haunted the edges of her consciousness.
Vera Webb was reluctantly jarred awake the next morning by the laughter of the other girls in her dormitory. Yawning, she pulled back the curtains of her four-poster and began getting ready for the day.
The previous night, she had crawled into bed in the early hours of the morning after an evening of adventures that she wasn't sure anyone would believe, even if she told them. In Professor Fig's absence, she had decided to take matters into her own hands regarding the map they had found in the vault at Gringotts. After all, dangerous men were not known for their patience, and Rookwood and Harlow had made their intentions extremely clear. Vera would be damned if she let herself become their next victim because she hesitated too long.
So after Professor Fig had been pulled away by the world's most egotistical headmaster, she had sought out the one person she knew would be able to help her gain access to the Restricted Section, where the map led.
When she found Sebastian, she had led him over to the charmed string quartet, hoping the music would help drown out their conversation if any passersby happened to take an interest. After he had begun asking questions, as she knew he would, she reminded herself that even though she had only known him a week, he had already shown her time and again that he had her back. Even though she had embarrassed him in front of the entire Defense Against the Dark Arts class by beating him at their duel, he had been intrigued and excited rather than angry, even inviting her to join Crossed Wands. And ever since, he had done nothing but help her assimilate into the magical world. Rarely had she met a boy– or any man– with such a lack of ego and willingness to engage with her on equal footing.
Because of all this, Vera decided he could be trusted with at least the broad strokes, despite Fig's warning to keep the information to herself. In hushed tones, she had divulged a quick summary of the events that had led her to come into possession of the map.
Of course Sebastian had been willing to help her. She knew it wasn't all altruism– he clearly had a penchant for sneaking about the castle and seeking out illicit secrets, and she was counting on piquing his interest. Which, of course, she had.
Her trust had turned out to be well-founded, as Sebastian had been willing to not only give her guidance but actually lead the way himself. And when they had snuck past the prefects, Madam Scribner, and several ghosts, only to be finally caught by Peeves of all people, he had run off without a second thought to take the fall for them both.
I hope he's not in too much trouble, she worried. And then blushed scarlet again as the memory of the Restricted Section caused bits and pieces of her dream to come back to haunt her.
Honestly, Vera wasn't sure what had gotten into her. She had not been raised to wonder about such things and was normally the very image of propriety. As the daughter of a barrister and aspiring politician, nothing less would have been accepted from her, at least back in the Muggle world.
And then Vera firmly pushed those thoughts away, as they threatened to take her down a path she could not afford to tread. Not if she wanted to get through the day.
Yawning, she pulled on her shoes and her cloak before setting off through the Slytherin common room with the other girls heading for breakfast.
"What's the matter, Webb? Didn't sleep much last night?" Imelda prodded as they made for the spiral staircase. Vera gave her a side glance as she tried to remain nonchalant. Had Imelda heard her come in late last night? Or worse, had she been talking in her sleep? She couldn't even bear the idea of how embarrassed she would be if that were the case. I should look up some kind of silencing charm soon, just in case.
"Too busy with her nose in a book, no doubt," teased Grace, obviously referring to what had already become a running joke among the Slytherin fifth-year girls: that Vera spent all her free time studying. Vera rolled her eyes. She couldn't help it if she was four years behind everyone else and needed to catch up. It didn't leave her a lot of time for socializing.
"Guilty. I just went to the library to study up on some new spells and I was up late reading," she waved them away, grinning secretly to herself. Technically, she had gone to the library, and she had learned valuable new spells. The Disillusionment charm in particular.
Imelda didn't challenge her, but suddenly looked across the room and grinned like she had her own hilarious secret. "Are you part of a new book club with Sallow, then? He looks quite the worse for wear this morning."
The other girls whipped their heads around in the direction Imelda was looking, where Sebastian had indeed entered the common room as well. His hair was sticking up in odd places and his clothes were wrinkled, as if he had slept in them. He let out a wide yawn as well as he and another boy (Ominis, Vera remembered from her introduction the first day of classes) began climbing the stairs towards the exit. Against her will, Vera imagined her hands in his hair, fixing it for him–
Grace and Imelda cackled as Vera furiously tried to avoid eye contact, hiding behind the dark waves of her hair that she thankfully was in the habit of leaving loose. If it weren't for that damn dream. We didn't even do anything! "I'm sure I don't know what you mean," she deflected, but her blush gave her away.
Taking pity on her, Nerida tried to rein the other girls in. "Come on, girls, leave the poor thing alone. She hasn't even had her coffee yet. I'm sure it's a coincidence."
Still laughing, Imelda nonetheless let it go, and the group began to climb the spiral staircase. "Sure, sure. . ." As they entered the dungeons, however, the Quidditch captain let the other two girls walk ahead and caught Vera's arm, leveling a suddenly serious gaze at the new fifth-year. "But really, Vera, I've seen you talking with him. And you should be careful."
"Careful? Why?"
Imelda shrugged. "For one thing, you should generally not trust any of the boys in our house. None of them are ever up to any good. Occupational hazard of being sorted into a house which values ambition and cunning more than any other trait." She kept walking at a slower pace, arm in arm with Vera, clearly trying to keep her voice low. "But Sallow. . . he's always in trouble. He was nearly expelled last year for getting caught with a book on Unforgivable Curses. And he's best friends with Ominis Gaunt, whose family has been known to torture Muggles for sport. Rabid blood-purists, that lot."
Vera sucked in a breath. She wasn't sure what Unforgivable Curses were, exactly, but they were clearly some form of dangerous dark magic.
"Sebastian doesn't seem like a bad person," Vera protested. "And Ominis greeted me on my first day. . . he seemed nice enough." If he held the same bigoted beliefs as the rest of the Gaunts, why would he have been so kind to her? It was common knowledge that she was Muggle-born.
"Ominis is complicated," Imelda responded. "He does seem different than his family. But they keep close tabs on him. And Sebastian is a smooth talker." She sighed. "He's. . . known to flirt with a lot of girls. I'm worried he sees you as his newest target. Of course he would want to make a good impression."
As much as Vera hated to admit it, there was a ring of truth to Imelda's warnings. Sebastian had an undeniably flirtatious tone at times; she had been hoping secretly that it was unique to her. But of course it wouldn't be. They hardly knew each other, after all.
And yet, she remembered him in the Three Broomsticks during their trip to Hogsmeade, boasting about her abilities. "She single-handedly took down a troll!" he had bragged to everyone that could hear, and she had practically sparkled under the praise. And just last night, as she hid behind the bookcase, she had listened to him deny that anyone else was involved in their little secret mission to the Restricted Section. Surely, those things counted for something?
"Thanks, Imelda," she finally responded as they neared the Great Hall. "I'll keep that in mind."
Despite her conversation with Imelda, Vera still wanted to debrief with Sebastian after the events of the previous night. She hoped he hadn't gotten into too much trouble. To be honest, she was relieved to see him still attending classes; she had been worried he would be suspended after the librarian dragged him off to the headmaster's office. But after being teased, she was too embarrassed to be seen speaking with him in front of everyone. So she sat with the other girls at breakfast and resolved to try to catch Sebastian after classes.
An owl swooped down as she was finishing her meal, dropping a small letter in her lap. Quickly checking the envelope, Vera recognized Professor Fig's handwriting. Before going to bed, she had quickly jotted down the evening's events and sent him an owl apprising him of the new developments. She hurriedly opened the envelope, eager for his thoughts.
Miss Webb,
Thank you for keeping me abreast of these new developments. I ask that you please place the book you discovered in my office for safekeeping while I am away. I am troubled that pages seem to be missing, and I dearly hope that whoever reached the book first had no ill intent. I will investigate as soon as I return from the tasks our esteemed headmaster has seen fit to assign me.
For now, do not neglect your studies and continue to hone your magic. Undoubtedly you will need to be prepared for what lies ahead.
Sincerely,
Professor Fig
Vera frowned, stowing the letter in her bag. She had been hoping for a bit more instruction, as well as a sure date of his return. But there was nothing she could do about it for now.
Herbology was first, where Professor Garlick had them repotting Mandrakes. Vera, who despised sudden loud noises and who had had her fill of near-death experiences the prior evening, was keen to get the exercise over with as quickly as possible. She was glad when the Professor asked her to tend to the Chinese Chomping Cabbages and she could leave the rest of the screaming vegetation to her classmates.
Leander Prewett accompanied her to the adjoining greenhouse. "Nice work in Defense Against the Dark Arts, by the way," he remarked as they climbed the stairs.
"Excuse me?"
"Your duel with Sebastian! And he's good, ha, thinks he's really good. But you outright slaughtered him. It was brilliant."
"Oh. Well, thank you." She was put off by his tone, but remained polite. It didn't seem that Leander was paying attention to her active disinterest in this topic.
"I nearly put Sebastian in his place myself. I mean, I would've, if Hecat hadn't stopped me," the red-haired boy boasted. Vera had to stop a laugh. She didn't want to be too mean, but she couldn't resist poking some holes in his over-inflated ego.
"Didn't she stop that dragon skull from crushing you?"
Leander flushed slightly at the reminder. "Typical Slytherin trick, dropping a dragon skull on someone during a fight. We Gryffindors fight with honor!" Vera rolled her eyes as he seemed to realize his misstep, too late. "Ah, I mean, no offense."
She made a noncommittal sound, and they continued to the cabbages in awkward silence. She hoped the message was clear that she would not be entertaining any more rude comments towards Sebastian.
After Leander introduced her to the Chomping Cabbages, conversation flowed more easily. He praised her for her strong showing at Summoner's Court, and she was interested to hear what types of magical plants that wizards tended to grow in their gardens. By the time they returned to the main greenhouse, Vera thought that perhaps she had judged him too quickly. Yes, he was prone to speaking without thinking, but he wasn't so bad once you got to know him.
She was laughing at his parting joke about using vegetables in combat when she happened to glance over at Sebastian, and suddenly she didn't feel like laughing anymore. He was engaged in conversation with a pretty blonde Hufflepuff that Vera had met briefly a few days prior– Adelaide, she thinks her name is– and Vera immediately zeroes in on the hand Sebastian briefly places on the other girl's arm as he laughs at something she says.
Imelda's words came back to her. "Sebastian is a smooth talker. . . I'm worried he sees you as his newest target." In fact, she caught Imelda's eye, who had noticed the same thing Vera had. The other girl shrugged as if to say I told you so. Vera felt a pang she didn't want to admit and dropped Imelda's gaze.
She brushed past the pair on her way to speak with Professor Garlick, feeling Sebastian's eyes on her. She refused to look at him, opting to pretend she hadn't seen anything and focus on her conversation with the Herbology professor. Hopefully, he would let it go.
Vera was surprised to feel his hand on her shoulder as the class walked from the greenhouses down into the dungeons for Potions. "Hey, Vera," he called, tugging her back from following Nerida through the classroom doorway. The other Slytherin girl gave her a side glance before continuing on, leaving Vera to her conversation in peace. Vera silently thanked her, glad it was Nerida and not Grace or Imelda who had witnessed the interaction.
"Hello, Sebastian," she greeted him coolly. He looked down, abashed at her tone, but didn't address the subtext. Dropping his voice, he leaned in closer, and an involuntary shiver ran down her spine.
"Can you meet me tonight, after curfew, at the base of the stairs near the rhinoceros skeleton? I have something to show you."
"Sure," she responded in an equally hushed tone. "I'm glad you weren't expelled. Why so late?"
He grimaced. "I have detention every evening for two weeks. It'll have to be after."
Their conversation was cut short by Professor Sharp beginning class, but it had a mollifying effect on Vera. Sebastian may well be a flirt. But he certainly hadn't willingly incurred two weeks of detention on Adelaide's behalf.
She smiled to herself as she stirred a few sprigs of dittany into her Wiggenweld potion.
After classes were done for the day, Vera left dinner after a few minutes of scarfing down a sandwich and headed back to the common room with the intention of powering through her studies before her rendezvous with Sebastian. She arrived to find the room entirely empty and sighed in unexpected relief. She had certainly enjoyed getting to know her fellow classmates, but finding any alone time at the castle was nearly impossible when her days were filled with classes and she shared a dormitory with several other girls.
She quickly grabbed her Transfiguration textbook from the dormitory before settling into one of the armchairs by the windows, enjoying the cool sunlight refracted through the waters of the Black Lake. As she read, her attention was diverted by the piano which stood in one corner of the expansive and richly-decorated room.
While she had a lot of reading to get through this evening, she also knew an empty common room was an uncommon gift, and she had not had a chance to practice since she had left home. Vera's grandmother had taught her to play the instrument as a child, and her parents saw fit to encourage the activity as befitting of a well-educated daughter. Some of her fondest memories at her father's house in London were her afternoons spent practicing on the Baldwin in the front parlor.
While other memories of that home may be tainted, she held tightly to the few happy recollections she had left.
Resolved, Vera set her textbook down and retrieved the book of sheet music she had slipped into her trunk just in case. She hadn't even known if wizards played the piano when she had left home, but now she was thankful she had acted on faith.
As she began to play, immediately she felt the worries and exhaustion of the day melt away, and she simply focused on the complex and lilting tones. This piece was new, given to her by her tutor the previous summer, and she had yet to completely master it. He had presented it to her as some of the latest compositions from France, from a newer composer in much the same style as her favorite, Chopin.
Vera's fingers stumbled over a difficult section towards the end of the piece, and she began the tedious exercise of working the kinks out of her muscle memory. Lost in the process, she failed to notice that she was no longer alone until someone spoke directly behind her.
"I didn't realize anyone else was familiar with Debussy."
She startled, nearly jumping out of her skin. When she glanced over her shoulder, she recognized the blond, lanky figure standing a few feet behind her.
"Ominis, right? Sorry, I didn't realize anyone else was here." Then his words registered with her. "You know him too?"
"Yes. My tutor is French, and he brought me some of his pieces over the summer." Ominis took a few steps closer, red light pulsing from his outstretched wand. "Am I right in assuming that you are the new fifth-year I had the pleasure of meeting a few days ago?"
"Yes, Vera," she replied, eyes lighting up. "My tutor brought me this piece as well. I didn't know you played."
"Likewise. I am sorry to have startled you, and please, don't let me interrupt."
She shifted, feeling shy. "Oh, I haven't mastered this one yet. I would hate to assault your ears. That's why I was taking advantage of the empty room."
His eyebrows furrowed above his sightless eyes. "I consider myself somewhat of a connoisseur of musical performance, given that it's the only art form I can actually enjoy. I can say with confidence that your performance was the farthest thing from an assault."
She flushed under the praise. Looking around, no one else was back from dinner yet. While she still felt the piece wasn't ready for an audience, she supposed playing for only Ominis wouldn't be so terrible.
"Fine. But remember, you asked for it." As she turned back to the keys, she missed his grin.
Getting lost in the music again, Vera nearly forgot that Ominis was listening. She felt the satisfaction of finally nailing the section which had eluded her earlier, and began again from the beginning. When she reached the end for the first time without error, albeit with less expression than the composer likely intended, she was again startled when clapping interrupted the reverberation of the final note.
"That was a pleasure," Ominis said sincerely. She smiled, pleased, before realizing he couldn't see her expression.
"The pleasure was mine." She rose from the bench. "I have begun to really appreciate this work, it feels Romantic while still somehow creating something new. I think that's why my tutor suggested it, he knows I love the Romantics."
"I agree," he replied. "Who is your favorite?"
"Chopin," she answered easily. Without a word, he strode to the bench she had just vacated, taking her seat. She stepped back, eager to listen.
After taking a moment to orient himself, Ominis began to play, and she was immediately enthralled. His long, graceful fingers took a nocturne she herself had played many times and added new depth, flowing like water over the keys. He was wonderful to watch, and she found herself wondering how often he practiced. If he, like her, had sought music as an escape.
When he was done, she applauded. "Now that was a performance," she praised, smiling. He did a little mock bow from the waist, and she laughed.
"I love Chopin, too," he admitted.
"I can tell." She fidgeted, wondering how to phrase her next question. "Not that I'm not thrilled to have a private performance. But why aren't you at dinner with everyone else?"
"Sebastian's in detention." His mouth twisted into a dark approximation of a wry smile that came out more like a bitter smirk. "Most other people generally like to keep a healthy distance. My family's reputation precedes me."
Vera wondered, not for the first time, how terrible his family must truly be to warrant this universal dislike of a person who seemed so warm and well-mannered. "Well, that's ridiculous. But I'm still glad it's working in my favor." She pulled a comfortable armchair a little closer to the piano and took a seat, cracking open her textbook once more. "I really must get through this for tomorrow's class. But. . . would you keep playing? It's truly wonderful."
He snorted. "You know, every piano in this castle is enchanted to play on its own," he pointed out. "You could experience a flawless performance by yourself with just a wave of your wand."
While a part of Vera delighted at this new information, filing it away for later, she smiled and shook her head. "That's incredible. But I'm certain it would pale in comparison to any performance of yours."
Ominis rolled his eyes, but she could sense she had persuaded him. "Flattery, I'm sorry to say, will get you everywhere. I'm quite vain, you know."
She giggled, turning her eyes to her book and enjoying the first notes of a waltz beginning to ring out.
Eventually, their housemates began to return to the common room. Glancing up from her reading, Vera noticed quite a few stares as their fellow Slytherins realized that the piano was not, as usual, playing itself, and moreover, who was playing it instead. She smiled to herself as quite a few people looked positively awestruck, as if they had never considered that the blind boy harbored such a talent.
Privately, she hoped this might help some of them see Ominis in a new light. She certainly had begun to, herself.
Finally, curfew rolled around, and Vera stood up from her seat and stretched. Ominis had left after about an hour of delighting her with Chopin and other Romantic composers, excusing himself to finish his homework. The common room was humming with conversation as students enjoyed the gift of procrastination at the beginning of the semester, playing games of Exploding Snap and Gobstones rather than focusing on homework.
Vera took advantage of the diversion, casting a quick Disillusionment charm as she crept up the spiral staircase so no one would see her leave.
She was extremely curious what Sebastian could have in store to show her. While part of her was still miffed from what she had witnessed that morning with Adelaide, she was mostly still concerned about him and wanted to make sure that he hadn't taken too much of a punishment on her behalf. Not to mention, she was eager to tell him all about what she had truly discovered in the Restricted Section after Peeves had cut short their time together.
"Over here!" A disembodied voice called out to her, and she quickly realized it was Sebastian. Once she knew who to look for, his Disillusionment rippled like water, revealing his position by the wall. She hurried over to meet him.
"Sebastian!" she exclaimed quietly. "I'm glad I found you."
"Me too," he whispered. "I have something to show you. Quick, over here." As he turned to move, she stopped him with a hand on his arm.
"First, let me thank you for what you did in the library." The words she had been waiting all day to say tumbled out in a rush. He smiled.
"Of course. Like I said, Scribner ended up giving me detention, but I doubt I'll have to finish out the two weeks. I have ways out of these things."
"Well, you took the fall for me, and that counts for something," she insisted. He shrugged, changing the subject.
"Did you find what you were looking for?" Vera bet that he had been waiting all day to ask her, as curious as she knew he had to be.
"I did," she shared, and she saw his eyes light up with interest. Her heart skipped half a beat at the sight. "But something's missing. I'm not sure here is the best place to discuss it."
"Understood. We can talk more in a moment." He smirked. "In the Undercroft. Not even the professors know about this place."
Now it was Vera's turn to let her excitement slip. Another secret room in the castle? How many mysteries did this school hold?
"This way," Sebastian hissed, and she followed him towards an apparent dead end. "There's a secret passage just here."
"It's well-disguised," she remarked doubtfully. What could he be referring to? There was nothing here except for–
He pulled out his wand and tapped the face of the ornate, strange-looking grandfather clock against the wall. She heard the mechanical grinding of gears as the hands of the clock began to spin, and then she gasped as the entire front panel of the clock swung open. A secret door!
"Ladies first," Sebastian gestured, and she stepped forward excitedly into what looked like a lift. A moment later, they were standing in a large stone room lit by braziers overhead and candles scattered around the room. She could see why it was called the Undercroft; the pillars and stone arches looked positively medieval, even more so than the rest of the castle.
"How did you find this place?" she wondered aloud, beginning to wander through the space.
"My friend, Ominis Gaunt." She looked up from examining an interesting-looking chest, startled at hearing the name of the boy she had just left in the Slytherin common room. "He named it the Undercroft. We used to play Gobstones here all the time – with my sister. Anne." She saw Sebastian's face twist for a moment, as if in pain, before he continued. "She loved that infernal game. What I wouldn't give to lose to her again."
Vera wasn't sure what to say, so she simply walked back over to stand at his side, waiting patiently for him to continue.
"I should tell you, I swore to Ominis I would safeguard this place, so please keep this between us. He never confides in anyone, but he's trusted me since the day we met. I wouldn't want to jeopardize that."
"Of course," she reassured him. She had noticed that the two boys were often together around the castle.
"We used to sneak in here almost daily. We've never been caught," he said proudly. She grinned.
"I know Ominis. Met him in our common room, he gave me quite a warm welcome." She briefly considered mentioning spending their evening together at the piano before deciding against it. "I've noticed he uses his wand to navigate the castle."
"He does, no idea how though. Ominis was born blind, and no spell could reverse it. His wand seems almost sentient. Not surprising I suppose, Ollivander always says 'the wand chooses the wizard.'" Sebastian spoke of his friend's ability as though it were an offhand bit of trivia, rather than one of the most impressive magical skills Vera had witnessed since her introduction to the wizarding world. She thought of her grandmother's progressive blindness and how it had eventually put a stop to their piano lessons, leaving her housebound and isolated. An ability like Ominis's would be life-changing for so many people.
"Absolutely remarkable. Is that how he found this place?"
"No, someone in his family knew about it. The Gaunts are full of secrets. I've never heard anyone else speak of it, and I've certainly never seen anyone else here. Again, mention this to no one, especially Ominis. He has no love lost for his family or their secrets, but this place is special to him."
Again, Vera was reminded of Imelda's warning about the Gaunts. She shivered.
"Of course. Ominis spoke to me about his family when we first met. To say that he has no love lost for them is an understatement."
"Glad you understand." Suddenly, Sebastian's eyes lit up with what Vera could only describe as mischief, and he leaned in conspiratorially. "Anyway, the Undercroft has been a perfect place to sneak off to – away from prying eyes, and even practice otherwise forbidden spells."
His words sent a thrill through her. Away from prying eyes . . .
Her back pressed to the stone floor, his lips overpowering her own, gasping out her name–
That damn dream. Forcefully, she shoved the memories to the back of her mind, but failed to entirely steady her voice. "Really? Like what?"
"Like the Blasting Curse." He grinned. "Professors say it's not an appropriate spell to teach students."
Vera rolled her eyes with indignation. "A proper magical education ought to include all magic."
"My thoughts exactly. A spell like Confringo is only truly dangerous in untrained hands. Such spells should be properly taught, not banned. To be fair, I'm admittedly partial to more fiery forms of magic. But you should learn it. I can teach it to you safely here."
Oh, how she knew well the dangers of magic in untrained hands.
Dishes breaking, a male voice thundering with rage, hands trembling with fear and panic.
"Show me," she decided. Sebastian looked pleased.
"It may take a while to get the feel for it. Mimic my wand movement. The incantation is Confringo."
Vera laughed, enjoying the satisfaction of sending targeted bursts of flame at the braziers hanging from the ceiling.
"How's it feel?" Sebastian called out, and she saw he was smiling, clearly pleased she was enjoying herself.
"It's a tad hot," she quipped.
"You'll get used to it."
After lighting the braziers, she returned to his side, practically bouncing with delight. "I have to say, I enjoyed that."
He folded his arms, looking satisfied with himself. "The first time Ominis and I practiced Confringo, we singed our eyebrows."
She giggled. "I would have paid to see that."
"I swore we'd never live it down. To this day, there's something about that spell that's addictive." Vera had to agree.
"This is exactly the type of magic I've been hoping to learn," she admitted. Her heart skipped a beat as he smiled conspiratorially.
"There's more where that came from. Been practicing similar spells here for ages. Although I didn't tell Anne and Ominis about every one." Oh, was she curious to know what those spells could be.
He sighed, mood dampening slightly. "Haven't been here in some time. It's not the same without Anne."
Before she realized it, Vera had reached out a hand to touch his arm. "I'm sorry about your sister. If there's anything I can do. . ."
He looked up suddenly as her hand made contact, and she pulled it back hurriedly, embarrassed. Where on earth has my good sense gone? Perhaps it was something about being out after curfew, deep in the bowels of a thrilling magical castle, with a boy who was more than willing to follow and lead her into all sorts of mischief. Completely alone. Mama would be positively scandalized.
Blessedly, Sebastian let her impulsive moment slide, seeming to notice her discomfort. "Perhaps when I next head to Feldcroft you could come along, meet Anne. She could use some cheering up."
"I'd be glad to, if you're sure it wouldn't be an imposition."
"Of course not," he reassured her. "She misses Hogwarts. She's been stuck at home with our guardian, Uncle Solomon. Unfortunately, you'll have to meet him too. But meeting a new student will be precisely what she needs."
"I shall look forward to it," she announced sincerely.
He smiled. "Cheers. By the way, what was it you couldn't discuss out in the hall earlier?"
Vera sucked in a breath. Here goes nothing. She had resolved earlier in the evening that despite Imelda's caution and Professor Fig's admonition to keep the story to herself, Sebastian could be trusted. She wasn't quite sure how she was so confident, but something told her that he would keep her secrets safe. And with Fig still gone from the castle, she knew she could use someone else to accompany her for the task ahead. After the Professor's letter that morning, she knew she couldn't afford to wait any longer; who knew when he would be able to return?
"I'm not sure where to start. There is . . . a bit more to all of this than I've told you."
Sebastian shifted his weight and led her over to a nearby pair of armchairs, inviting her to take a seat. "You said something was missing from what you found in the library. I assume it's to do with what you told me– about the Portkey and Gringotts and Ranrok."
"Nothing gets past you." She smiled before turning serious once more. "And yes, it is."
"I'm listening." He leaned in closer, inadvertently causing her heart to speed up for a moment.
"You must promise to keep this between us," she insisted, still calming her nerves. He shook his head.
"I trusted you with knowledge of this secret Undercroft. You can trust me."
Holding his gaze, Vera saw no trace of insincerity. Only curiosity, and something else she couldn't quite place. She sighed.
"All right. Well, to begin– I can see traces of ancient magic."
Sebastian leaned back, his keen interest written all over his face. "Ancient magic? I don't know what I was expecting you to say, but it wasn't that. What does that even mean?"
"Honestly, I'm not entirely certain. All I know is that I can see whispers of an old magic that hardly anyone else can." Fiddling with her hands, she recalled the beautiful traces of magic that swirled like water. "Fig and I think that Ranrok has somehow found a way to harness that magic's power."
His expression darkened, turning positively stormy. "Are you telling me that goblins may be wielding some sort of wizard magic?"
His reaction put her on edge. "That's what we're trying to find out."
"And this 'ability' of yours– does it allow you to wield this magic too?"
"I – I don't know." A sharp edge in his tone made her hesitant to reveal all of her suspicions at once. She had an inkling that her defeat of the Hogsmeade troll had to do with her newfound ability, as well as her battles through the secret chambers she had discovered so far. But she wasn't sure, and couldn't be. Not yet, not until she discovered more.
"Well, when you do know, tell me," he entreated. "I've been studying archaic forms of magic for ages. Perhaps we can help each other. In the meantime, with both Rookwood and Ranrok after you, I suspect a bit more time practicing the Blasting Curse is in order. Spend as much time here as you'd like. And remember, keep this place between us."
She nodded reassuringly, but hesitated to stand. He noticed her reluctance.
"What is it?"
She sighed. "There is more, actually." And she launched into a retelling of her struggle through the secret chamber below the Restricted Section, as well as the book she had found there. Sebastian didn't interrupt beyond a few gasps of surprise, seemingly spellbound.
"The thing is, I looked through the book last night, and key pages are missing," Vera finished, frowning. "I wrote to Fig, and he said he'd investigate. But Professor Black has sent him away on some business at the Ministry, and he's not sure when he'll be able to return."
Sebastian whistled. "You are full of surprises, aren't you?" She blushed again. "Well, it sounds like we should do some digging ourselves."
She shot him a look. "We?"
He snorted. "Yes, of course, we! You didn't think you could tell me that story without getting out of taking me with you, did you?" He grinned. "Anyway, you owe me some adventure. I told you, I like having friends who are in my debt."
She laughed and stood. "Fair enough. I'll let you know when I have a lead." She stretched, yawning. "For now, I really need to get some sleep. This has been the longest day."
Sebastian stood as well. "You go ahead. I have to take care of some things before heading back."
As Vera exited the secret passageway, she froze in place as she recognized the blonde figure standing before her.
"Sebastian, there you are." Ominis suddenly paused, wand pulsing faster. "Wait . . ." She thought about trying to sneak past him, but seeming to read her mind, he planted himself firmly in the middle of the corridor. She was trapped. "You there! I can hear you," he snapped.
"Hello, Ominis," she said nervously. "I was just heading to our common room." It was the truth, after all.
The anger in his expression gave way to surprise as he recognized her voice. "Vera? What on earth are you doing here?" He frowned. "Did you just come from the Undercroft? How on earth did you get in there?" Under the ire in his tone, she picked up a note of panic.
She briefly considered lying. However, she didn't think Ominis would be convinced. And something in her was loath to keep things from him. "Actually, Sebastian brought me there," she admitted reluctantly. "But he made it perfectly clear to keep quiet about it! He thought I could use a space to. . . catch up on my studies, since I'm so far behind everyone else."
Her words did not help pacify him. "That rat," he muttered. His demeanor had totally shifted from the genteel persona he had shown her earlier that day, and she didn't recognize the sudden ice in his voice. An unexpected chill swept down her spine. "You breathe a word about this place to anyone, and not even your precious Professor Fig will be able to help you. My father is friends with the headmaster, and I'm not afraid to exploit that connection if I need to."
Her mind went calm and still in response to the anger in his voice as she considered how to placate him, and she felt her heartbeat steady and slow. She kept her tone sweet, soft, and unassuming. "I promise, Ominis, I have no intention of sharing the Undercroft with anyone else," she reassured him. "You needn't threaten me. I wouldn't betray your secret, or Sebastian's trust. He was simply trying to help me." She cast her eyes down to the floor, demure, forgetting that Ominis wouldn't know whether or not she was making eye contact. But perhaps he could hear it in her voice. "I'm truly sorry."
"I'm sure he was," Ominis scoffed. Vera's approach seemed to have succeeded; he still sounded irate, but the worst of his anger had been replaced by mere irritation. "We agreed years ago that he wasn't to use the space to take advantage of the fairer sex. So much for taking him at his word. I should have known he wouldn't be thinking with his head."
His implication made her bristle in anger and embarrassment, something prickly and ugly rising in her chest. She leveled her gaze to glare at him. "I'll have you know there was nothing improper going on. What, exactly, do you take me for?"
"Honestly? I don't know. I barely know you." The new disdain in his voice cut her. Her anger roiled under the surface. She pushed it down, forcing herself to maintain icy politeness.
"Fine. Well, I don't think we have anything more to discuss." And she pushed past him, leaving Sebastian to deal with the mess he had created. "Good night, Ominis."
She Disillusioned herself as she stalked back to the common room, still fuming. Privately, she tried to avoid the thought that she was angry because there had been some truth in Ominis's accusations. Again, she pushed away memories of her dream.
Perhaps Imelda was right, after all, and spending time with either of the boys was a terrible idea.
And yet, despite the way the night had ended, she still smiled as she crept into bed, thinking over the evening's events. She no longer felt so alone in her quest, abandoned by Professor Fig to discern the mystery of the map and missing pages by herself. She had a partner. Now, all she needed was a lead.
Her dreams that night featured flames, dark library corridors, a myriad of exotic clock faces, and a particular pair of deep and intense brown eyes.
A/N: Here's your warning that I am a Sebastian Sallow apologist, as the title may indicate. Read on at your own risk.
Please forgive any anachronisms or inaccuracies this chapter may contain regarding music history. For those who would like to listen, here are the piano pieces I had in mind for Vera and Ominis's little private concert, in order:
-Arabesque No. 1 (Debussy) (which just so happened to have been composed in the year 1890, a happy coincidence I discovered only after choosing the piece)
-Nocturne No. 2 in E-Flat Major, Op. 9 No. 2 (Chopin)
-Waltzes, Op. 64: No. 2 in C-Sharp Minor (Chopin)
I will update as often as I can. While I have quite a lot of work on my plate at the moment, that usually means inspiration will be abundant. And this story idea hasn't left me alone for weeks. (You can thank The Tortured Poets Department for the inspiration needed to finish this chapter.)
Your feedback is always appreciated!
-Lady E