Ten years after I began at Hogwarts, Sebastian Sallow is back. And he's Professor Sallow now. He disappeared after the fall of Ranrok and Rookwood, after I lost Professor Fig, and after Ominis and I couldn't keep him from losing himself. But I never...
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I am speechless.
Like a warm, tropical storm of culminating nostalgia and anticipation, a deep thunder of knowing softly rattles my core while bolts of fear clench my heart, and a rain of certainty washes a strange sense of relief over my being.
Nine years is a long time to wait.
In a brief second my mind races and struggles to know what to do next. My eyes are locked on this arm and hand, offered so freely. I trace the familiar veins, bones, knuckles, and lines, with my eyes, noting how each of them is more toned, defined, and deep than I've known. If I weren't looking so closely, I might not have noticed its slight trembling.
I couldn't touch this hand even if I had wanted to for fear of detonating some kind of irrevocable explosion, so I forego taking it as I stand. I can feel him take a few steps back, giving me space. I sense relief from him.
Curiosity begs my eyes to meet his face.
They do. And time stops.
A fine, magical dust is still settling from where the boggart inferius was defeated, catching the rays of moonlight streaming through the ancient castle window, glistening like so many tiny fireflies. And there, just in front of me through the twinkling, glittery light, Sebastian Sallow is standing tall, simply and without pretense, no more than eight feet from me. His eyes lock with mine and my breath catches.
To see him brings back a rapidfire amalgam of memories that flash through my mind in a simultaneous instant. Memories from the first moment I met him to our hurried, final goodbye. Dueling. Laughter. Library. Ominis. Undercroft. Mines. Spiders. Feldcroft. Uncle Solomon. Magic. Goblins. Anne. Inferi. Death. Fear. Love. Grief.
He is both exactly and nothing at all like what I could have imagined. So familiar. And so new.
His sturdy legs are longer than before, bringing him to just over six feet. A pair of black dress slacks hangs perfectly around him, secured on his lean waist with a simple elegant belt. A white dress shirt is tucked neatly into his waistline, draping easily around his visibly muscular torso, with the top two buttons undone, under which peeks a smooth collarbone. A green and silver necktie hangs loosely around his collar, draping down either side of his chest which is rising and falling with deep, metered breaths. A sheen of sweat glistens like a light veil across his skin and neck, which is thicker than it used to be.
Like his hands, his face is more defined now. More broad. His angular jaw clenches slightly, allowing his full lips to rest softly closed. His cheekbones are more defined than before as the round youthfulness of his full cheeks has faded.
Unexpectedly, a waterfall of loose, curly hair cascades around his face to just past the crest of his shoulders. Shades of light brown and dark brown mingle together with an occasional, thin sun-bleached streak of ashy blonde peeking through. His well-groomed mane gives him the appearance of an extra couple inches of height.
