Sebastian Sallow: Bits and Pieces

Honesty

(Art above is what Sebastian saw)

"Sebastian, honestly, what is going on? You're freaking me out. You haven't been able to look me in the eye for three days now!"
    In a trance, his hand supporting his chin, he continued to stare at the blank parchment sitting in front of him. Leaves gently fell from the vine-strewn ceiling of the Room of Requirement. He preferred the Undercroft, but I hated the feeling of being in a damp basement, so I convinced him to come here every now and then. I mean, honestly, at least this place is furnished. I circled around to the other side of the desk, crouched down to his eye level, and snapped my fingers.
"Sebastian! Seriously, what is going on?"
Finally his his eyes lifted, their brown tint turning golden in the afternoon light from above. He gave a little smirk, and raised his eyebrows just a hair.
"I'm just imitating you, is all."
"Hilarious."
"Honestly, I don't know why you keep asking me this. I told you, it was just a bad dream. We were somewhere and got scraped up a bit, trivial really. Also, I looked you in the eye just now, dramatic."
"There's got to be more to it than that. You've been acting differently."
"What can I say, you made me a new man in Defense Against the Dark Arts. Brought me down a peg at least. I used to be Hecat's favorite, but you've brought some competition."
    I didn't grin, just simply raised an eyebrow. Class was the worst excuse yet, and a bad dream indeed. One that he didn't dare tell Ominis about at all, which was unusual. The cheeky smirk slowly began to fade off of his face as he realized that I wasn't going to let it go this time. He let out a deep breath and turned his eyes back down to the parchment. Frustrated, I turned on my heel and began to march to the staircase to go up to the Vivariums. Perhaps I'd have better luck speaking to a hippogriff. Before I ascended, I shouted into the stairwell,
"I suppose it's just me that's bothering you, is that it? I'm really not sure what I've done because you won't speak to me, and according to you, your little dream wasn't the problem after all! So WHAT IS?"
    I stormed upstairs, my cheeks hot and eyes blurry. Sebastian was my first friend at Hogwarts. My first real friend, really, and to no credit of my own. I'm terrible at socializing, and often dreaded it growing up. My parents were wizards; Aurors, in fact. They homeschooled me, and our house was in the rolling hills of the English countryside. It was the best childhood I could hope for. But one day, about two years ago, they never came home. The ministry sent me to a Muggle group home (conveniently, without explanation for my absent parents) for what they called security purposes. I still don't understand how that was safer, but I was underage and had no choice. Everyone there was nice, but terribly dull compared to my life before. None of them could ever really know me anyway, so I kept quietly to myself and did whatever pointless Muggle homework I was assigned. That was, until Professor Fig personally paid me a visit one day. My fifteenth birthday. He knew my parents, apparently, and also knew that I needed to return to the Wizarding World. Since that December, I have been doing my best to navigate everything, and always wary of becoming too attached.
    Until those stupid brown eyes caught mine on the first day of class.

    Still drowning in thought, I reached up to a shelf to grab some beast food, but a hand caught my own and gently spun me to face him. Shocked, and still a bit angry, I pulled my hand away.
"Come to antagonize me some more, Sallow?"
"Actually, I..." his face dropped, "I think I might be ready to talk. I — Ominis can't find this room can he?" He asked warily, looking about as if his friend would suddenly apparate at the mention of his name.
"No, this specific version of the room is only available to me, and anyone that comes with me."
"Right..." he trailed, "Okay then, well, I, can we sit?" His eyes met mine again, but now there was something different. He was serious.
"Yes, sure." I stumbled, completely taken aback by this change in character.
    We walked over and took a seat on a couch near the Vivariums, my palms sweaty, Sebastian taking particular interest in a loose thread on his robe. He began speaking, in a softer voice than I've ever heard him use.
"I wasn't entirely lying when I told you that it was a bad dream. I just haven't told you that it was so much worse than bad. I've had nightmares since Anne, but this was, rather, is different. I haven't just dreamt it once, but every night since the beginning of the week." He paused for a moment. "Since we went to see Anne. And my uncle told me that I have to stop. Since Ominis has reminded me that I often go too far, even when I mean well. It seems everyone is afraid that I'll cause more harm than good."
    I had no idea where this could be going, but his tone remained quiet and serious, so I did as well. He continued.
"Apparently, even I think so. At least, that's what I'm understanding of it. But its just so...horrible."
"What is, Sebastian?" I leaned in a little to show my support.
"You. Sorry — no, not like that," he looked up at me quickly, his eyes wide. "You're not horrible. What happened to you was. I mean, your scar. It — it was open, and longer than it really is and," he cut off. His gaze softened, and focused upon the fine line that stretched from my left eyebrow to cheek. Slowly and shakily, he raised his hand to my face and gently traced my scar with the back of his index finger. In a split second my body felt like it had been struck by lightning. He had never touched me like this, usually it was a play punch, or a real one. And his whole face; it was soft, and worried. It made my stomach churn in a way I'd never felt before. This was all so new and strange, and definitely was not how I was expecting this to go.
"There was so much blood," his voice choked as he continued, "Running down your face, from the scar." His hand fell slowly back into his lap; he was still looking at me, but somehow I felt that he was not seeing me as I was. "And your eyes were vacant and white. No matter how long I would search there was nothing behind them. I couldn't pull you out of whatever trance you were in and you just continued to bleed and lose color and stare blankly into nothing and I —," He broke off, unable to hold back anymore, a tear finally fell from his red eyes and rolled down his cheek. "I don't know what happened, if I did it or if I didn't stop what did, but it was my fault." Another tear rolled down his other cheek and he looked away.
    I didn't mean to be so quiet after Sebastian basically poured out his heart to me, but I was still in shock. Not only from the brutal image of myself that he had described and the tears rolling down my friend's usually mischievous face, but still feeling jolted from his touch. My heart was racing. I knew I had to respond but I had no idea what to say that could possibly help. I decided it might be best to just be honest.
"Sebastian, I'm so sorry." My voice croaked unexpectedly, and I felt a hot tear roll down my own cheek. I shouldn't have been so harsh. Seeing him in this state when he's normally so chipper and witty hurt me deeply. "I, I'm not entirely sure what to say. Thank you for telling me, though. I think I need a moment, I'm going to, um, feed the beasts I think." I rose slowly from my seat, not really wanting to leave, but not sure of what else to do.
"Abigail," he said, with a breath of urgency, placing his hand on my shoulder and spinning me back around to face him.
Before I could react, Sebastian's arms wrapped around me in a firm embrace; one arm across my back, the other hand combed through my hair as he held my head to his chest near his shoulder. I gently wrapped my own arms around his back, and as I did, I felt a sob escape him as he continued to hold me. I felt my own tears fall down my cheek and melt into the fabric of his robe. For the first time in a long time, we both let our emotions pass without resistance. Despite my normal hesitancy, I'd never felt safer than I did right here; ironically, at my most vulnerable. And something in me thought that perhaps it was the same for Sebastian.
"Sebastian," I whispered, not moving, "I'm sorry for what you saw. And how you've felt because of it. You've only been good to me since we've met. I trust you, with all honesty." At these last few words, he held me a bit tighter and let out another sob.
"Abi, I swear I'll always look out for you."
"I know."
I'm not sure how long we stayed in the embrace, but ever since, I haven't been able to see his gaze the same. I realized it was softer than how he looked at anyone else. I also realized that it had always been that way.