Return of Sebastian Sallow | 10 Yr After Hogwarts

Chapter 13: And It Was Going So Well

I greet the Elders with a respectful bow, and they greet me with smiles and nods. We've reached a certain level of comfort and understanding that I'm grateful for. Together, Kai and I convey the shift in my responsibilities, and it all goes over, surprisingly, pretty well.

I assure them that to my knowledge, I will still be the only 'human magic folk' they'll have to interface with, and that seems to assuage their fears for now.

The oldest centauride, Orlaith, with stark white hair, and a blonde-ish coat of fur, bids me approach her. Kai's mother.

"Ambassador," she says, "you are companion to us all. The New Moon will shine mercifully on you this night."

After a parting bow, Kai escorts me from their tent as I review my timeline with him once more, almost as much for my own sake as anything. I feel strangely relieved to realize my plan leaves no time to worry about when or where I might see Sebastian.

"New Moon Ceremony. Aparate. Sorting Ceremony. Aparate. New Moon Celebration. Good?"

"Good." He nods, grinning down at me. 

"Your commitment to our kind is commendable, Ambassador." He winks.

His smile makes me smile but I still feel trepidatious. "Psh. Thanks. Gonna be a long night." I say as I roll my eyes and dip behind a large tree to change into more appropriate attire. I can see the centaurs gathering into the large opening at the center of their village. The ceremony is about to begin.

I set down my pack and, with a quick swish of my wand, my blouse and overcoat are neatly folded into my backpack as a gleaming silver necklace with a massive moonstone medallion appears around my neck. My top is replaced with basic centauride attire: a delicate, sleeveless white silk shift that drapes over my front. I tuck the front hem into the waist of my form-fitting black leather pants and knot its thin ties closed on my otherwise bare back where my own centurian colony markings are now visible. They match Kai's but on a smaller, more delicate scale. It is traditional for one's markings to compliment or match those of their various companions.

The elders are lined up in front of the colony, now, and I walk up between the two groups. I kneel to the elders and place my wand in front of them, as a gesture of goodwill that I will not use any unwelcome, outside magic during their sacred event.

The ceremony unfolds as other New Moon's I'd celebrated with them. For all the hullabaloo they're really quite simple.

Four giant pyres stand in the corners of the forest opening, burning bonfires of sage, lavender, calendula, and rosemary for wisdom, good fortune, good health, and luck. After the elders read the stars and make predictions for the upcoming moon cycle, we sit in the forest's stillness together and practice an ancient form of group breathing as one of the elders sings a strain of melodies that usher in a season of abundance. This is my favorite part, as something about the music, the words, and the light of the new moon causes everyone's colony marking tattoos to glow with a mesmerizing, rainbow iridescence. Centaur magic is so cool.

I'm so glad I came. The change of pace is much needed and I find the whole thing so relaxing, especially in light of my previous few days, that I almost forget about the Sorting Ceremony entirely until my pocket begins to vibrate with a remarkably useful buzzing timer I picked up ages ago at Zonkos. Luckily I swat it to a stop before it becomes a distraction and I notice Kai has opened his eyes. His smile beams as he silently mouths the words "good luck" to me.

"Thank you!" I mouth back as I quietly creep away from the rest of the group to apparate to the castle.

Feeling fairly self-satisfied that things seem to be going well so-far, I hurriedly scurry far from the group so the sudden sound of my apparating to the castle doesn't cause a disruption. 

I begin to focus. Taking a preparatory breath, I smile to myself as a memory of Hogwarts flashes through my mind. In our seventh year, Natty and I practiced apparating so much we mastered doing it wandlessly, but we never did figure out how to do it silently–

–OH NO.

Just as I feel a familiar tug begin to suction me backwards into the air I realize–

MY WAND!

In my haste I've forgotten my wand and my pack. I haphazardly attempt to stop the process in a split second when–

–POP!!

I'm at the castle in a whip and I buckle forward in pain.

For the love of god, I've splinched myself like an idiot. Of all the nights.

I look down and realize my right size is a torn up from around my mid-thigh to mid-back. It almost looks like two or three dark mongrel paws snatched me on my way out, ripping up the clothes and skin in parallel scratches that twist up my body. Though I'm bleeding I'm glad to see it's nothing too deep or threatening.

This is inconvenient.

I gather from my view of a hell of a lot of portraits that I'm somewhere in the vicinity of the grand staircase near the great hall, and the sound of hundreds of students echoing throughout the halls tells me that the Sorting Ceremony hasn't yet begun, which is good.

Regardless, I know time is not on my side. Since I don't have my wand, my best bet is to get to my office so I can grab a spare robe I have there, and then head to the Room of Requirement to patch up these wounds. 

I've had to grit my teeth through far worse injuries.

With another deep breath, I focus my mind to apparate to my office, though a part of me will always think of it as Professor Fig's, and thankfully that goes off without a hitch. I snag the spare, black school robe with red and gold trim from just behind the door and attempt to put it on, but the weight of it against my open wounds is too much. I roll it off my shoulders, noticing my markings are still glowing and dancing with iridescence from the New Moon, and simply clutch the robe as I dash out the door, catching a glimpse of my frazzled appearance in a mirror on the wall. It looks like I've been bashed by the club of a mountain troll.

No, it would seem the New Moon was not going to be merciful to me this night. 

I can't apparate to the Room of Requirement since it's always on the move but it usually makes itself available to me somewhere between the Astronomy and Defense Against the Dark Arts towers where, thankfully, I am.

So, robe clutched in one hand, and pressing against my wounded side with my other, I spend some minutes limping up and down staircases and through hallways, frantically looking for a room that technically doesn't even exist. The pressure of my hand at my side has helped to stay the bleeding and the slight limp in my right leg helps to reduce zings of pain as I walk but it thankfully doesn't slow me down too much.

Bloody. Fucking. Door.

I've lost track of exactly where I am within the castle when I turn a corner that immediately orients me. The Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom door is wide open and light is pouring from inside it into the hallway. I can hear footsteps from within and I am stopped dead in my own tracks when I realize what that must mean as I clearly see a student step backwards out over the threshold of the classroom's door into the hallway. Their gaze is still facing into the classroom, looking at something or someone intently.

My body goes completely numb at the sight, like all the blood has drained instantly from my veins.

I'd know that student anywhere.