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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Sebastian almost successfully conceals a large, calming inhale as I watch him move towards me in the dim moonlight, swiftly and smoothly, with a sense of urgency. To my surprise, he stows his wand at his lower back, tucking it neatly in his waistband as he walks behind me to situate himself immediately behind my body and slightly to the right.
Maybe he can wield Episky wandlessly?
Every fine hair across my body stands on end as I feel his closeness, his strong form mere inches from my exposed back.
For the first time, in such a long time, I can smell his scent and a deep, sleeping part of me awakens with a lightning bolt. A dizzying musk of bergamot, pine and honey fills the air around me and I'm shocked by how familiar it is.
His nearness and his smell make me shiver and I can't hold it back from registering as a tremble throughout my body that tightens between my legs. I feel Sebastian notice it, due to a hasty intake of air through his nose, and a slight adjustment backwards from me.
Though he doesn't touch me, I can feel the presence of his hands on either side of my body. His left hand is still, hovering around my waist almost as a counter-balance to his right hand, which hovers on the outside of my right leg near my knee.
Suddenly I feel a tingling sensation with the subtlest of rhythmic pulses beneath his hand. It catches me off guard and I gasp a little in anticipation of the pain I assume it will cause.
"I won't hurt you," Sebastian says quietly, in a way that makes me wonder whether he means in this moment or in general, but I take heart at the assurance as a sense of safety roots in my limbs.
Indeed, no pain arrives. Instead, warmth. So much warmth seems to emanate from his right hand as he navigates it up the air that surrounds my torn thigh, hip, waist, and ribs. The tingling has become something akin to a silent buzzing that seems to accelerate my own body's healing process to such a rapid pace that the wounds are closing, filling, and tenderly scarring over with his action.
I can feel Sebastian focusing his mind and controlling his breath carefully as I hear the softest whisper coming from his mouth but I can't make out exactly what he's saying. Regardless, the way the consonants and vowels spill from his lips feels more like a blessing than a spell and I am mesmerized.
As the last of the scratches heals, his careful hand hovering over the wound that extends from my right shoulder blade to just shy of my right breast, I see that he has raised his left arm, facing his hand towards the window. With a short moment's more of unintelligible utterances, the rays of moonlight streaming in towards us come alive. They begin to glisten more distinctly and ripple smoothly to the same low rhythm I can still feel pulsing in the scars down my side.
The beautiful rays bend slowly with the movement of his hand and, like a lone conductor of a moonlight orchestra, he bids them come closer. They gradually take on the appearance of a giant, golden tidal wave that rises high, so high above us that I can't see the top until it folds over with a bright, luminescent froth that crashes down over me – us – bathing my body in healing light, and baptizing my tired soul with a sense of renewed energy and peace.
The sight of it is unlike anything I've ever seen, the wonder of it stirring awe within my emotions and I wipe away a stray tear that escapes down my cheek.
I feel the tip of Sebastian's wand gently swipe up my side as he whispers, "reparo," his breath dancing through my hair like fairies upon the morning dew. My clothes mend themselves in an instant while I, on the other hand, balance on the verge of becoming undone.
What am I supposed to do now?
I don't want to move. I don't want to breathe. I don't want anything but this moment to last forever.
I sense Sebastian's body close, so close behind me. He hasn't moved either. I can hear his heart pounding, even faster and louder than mine is, and the pace of his breathing has increased and become more shallow.
Bergamot, pine, and honey wafts through me in a dizzying spell that pushes me over the tipping point of the yearning, pulling, pulsing electricity between us. I turn and face him.
My eyes, green and crystal clear with the recent swell of a tear, look up into the dark brown wells of his that seem to be swirling within him, wild with every emotion. I can't tell if they're begging me to lean in or begging me to leave.
There is everything to be said, and yet nothing comes to mind as we stand, frozen, eyes locked, in the glowing stillness of the night.
"April–" he starts, his voice familiar but lower. To hear his voice and see his lips move so easily around the sound of my name sends a wildfire through my heart and a buckle to my knees.
I reach out for his hand.
He jolts back and catches a breath, shooting his eyes to my hand as if it were some kind of weapon.
"Sorry–" I blurt, instinctively stepping towards him, unsure of what I've done wrong. He stuns back from me again.
I meet his eyes, finally able to identify something within them – fear.
Pausing, I wait for him to offer...anything. An explanation, a word, anything at all, but he just stands there, with a sprint readying itself in his knees to spring, his eyes wildly searching my face, and something breaks within me.
This is too damn much.
Confusion fogs my mind, waking again my sense of indignation. This dynamic is more confounding than I could have possibly imagined. I let out a bewildered sigh and shake my head as my eyes drop, searching the ground for the robe I had dropped a few steps away.
Swiping it up, and with a final look of resignation towards this magnificent, magnetic man who apparently can't bear the thought of my touch, I meet his eyes one last time with a defeated look. I shrug my shoulders as if to say, 'anything?' My eyebrows raise to invite his response.
Silence.
Stoic. Silent. Fear.
Great. Same to you, bud.
I nod with a resigned understanding, grateful for the renewed energy in my body that allows me to apparate the hell away from there to the doors in front of the Great Hall.
