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 kiss Sebastian through a smile I can't keep from my mouth in response to the interminable shuddering of our bodies. He's smiling through it too. We are both still sparking from what is, frankly, the most intense sex I've ever had the pleasure of experiencing.
Thank youuuuuu, Sebastian.
God I hope the same is true for him.
"That was..." I start.
"Bloody unbelievable?" he finishes my sentence for me and I nod with a grin. "How do you do that?" he asks, and I'm not entirely sure if he's referring to something specific or just...all of it. I laugh and ask "which part?" And he smiles and plants a handful of rapid kisses on my lips in response.
I love the way he's looking at me, his eyes so alive, so bright, but I can always see his sadness just beyond the surface. It's the sorrow I can always see in the eyes of those who have experienced terrible injustice and pain.
After a satisfied exhale, Sebastian growls, "I want to see that, again, Collins," with a playfulness I recognize from so long ago. It sends a final, gossamer aftershock through me to which his response is instantaneous–in a blink he has me on my back beneath him and slides a hand between my legs.
Oh my goood.
I wrap my hands around his neck while his hand teases me with masterful, circling strokes, watching me react to his touch, my body writhing in glad accommodation. I see his eyes wander to my colony tattoo that spans my arm and shoulder and feel his motion intensify in pressure and speed until he has me almost to the edge.
As I look into his face hovering above mine I decide I like the idea of gasping into his mouth as I come. "Kiss me," I beg.
"No. I'm going to watch you," he retorts blithely. His brazen indifference plucks at a cord deep inside me that feels like yearning and danger. Determination flashes into his eyes and the pace of his fingers becomes furious, demanding my submission and, once again, I come. I come so undone for him. My whole body arches beneath him, euphoric with his touch, still reeling from moments ago, and now surging again at Sebastian Sallow's irresistible command. It all feels like so much I can't stop my throat from producing something between a breathy scream and a moan through the exhilarating waves he produces in me.
I hear him whisper 'holyfuckingshit' under his breath as he watches me attentively with wide eyes. I smile and pull him towards me into a deep, satisfied kiss.
"Look what you made me do," I say with a snarky smile. "Are you quite pleased with yourself, sir?" He grins – so widely – and nods in response.
He snatches a large patchwork quilt from the base of the bed and leaps towards me. We wrap ourselves in its warmth and, likewise, wrap each other unpretentiously in one another's welcoming limbs.
I snuggle into his side and begin to curiously trace the tattoo on his chest. It looks familiar to me in a way. I run my fingers along the three outermost edges that create a triangle. At the top, I run my finger down the line that runs vertically through the center, and then trace the spiral that winds around it a few times, counter clockwise. At the center of the spiral appears to be a kind of eye shape. "What is this?" I ask.
Sebastian takes my hand and kisses my fingers so sweetly. He asks if I know of the deathly hallows – the invisibility cloak, elder wand, and sorcerer's stone – and what they represent. I briefly remind him of the terrifying hellscape of the same theme that I had to navigate fifth year and he cringes with the memory.
"Well," he explains, "this is my take on that. I've realized my personal deathly hallows, so to speak, are a little different. For me, the triangle is a symbol of the muladhara chakra and reminds me to stay grounded. The line into the spiral is called cho ku rei, and that reminds me to focus my power and divine power into myself instead of outward, and the eye in the center represents the evil eye. It wards off curses. Reminds me of why I got to where I am."
"Anne?" I ask, and he nods quietly.
"Have you—" I start, but he cuts me off before I can say more.
"No. Not since the catacombs."
"Do you want me to tell—" and once again he cuts me off with a shake of his head, saying, "no. I'm not ready."
After a pause I ask, "weellllll do you want to tell me what a moldy la la or a chocolate wraith is?"
He smiles and corrects, "it's mul-ad-hara and cho-ku-rei" with the suggestion, "perhaps we ought to start with what you and Professor Sharp talked about this morning."
Amidst my giving an overview of what I'd seen earlier in the day we both put our various underclothes back on, and I make myself comfortable in Sebastian's shirt for an extra layer of warmth. He seemed surprised to learn I had witnessed all of the memories via pensieve, but accepted the reality of it fairly quickly, explaining he wasn't embarrassed so much as sorry for any pain it may have caused me.
I admit, I was hesitant to traverse the heaviness of it all, not yet ready to process or even define my feelings about what I'd seen. Thankfully, I was able to steer us in a tangent that Sharp would have been highly uncomfortable with, each of us swapping stories of how much we both adore him–how much we both appreciate who he chooses to be.
The shift in energy has given me the opportunity to get up and work at preparing a small tray of provisions, both of us ravenous from, well...neither of us has eaten much today. The sight of it has my mouth watering: chamomile tea, crusty bread, hole-y cheese, salted butter, and an array of nuts, figs, and berries.
Eventually Sebastian, in the midst of telling me about Sharp's advocacy on his behalf, summarizes "so, thanks entirely to him, I technically have a diploma but it's from Mahoutokoro School of Magic, not Hogwarts. I still don't know how he pulled it off, considering I didn't complete much of their required core."
"That's wild!" I call in response from across the room. "Do you...speak Japanese?" I ask as I start to make my way over with the tray, adding "--don't you dare move a muscle," as I see him scanning the situation for a way to help.
Sebastian laughs and says "sukoshi dake!" And I'm already convinced he's probably fluent, but he adds immediately, "...no, not really," as I slide the goodies gently across the bed towards him. "Back then I could understand it well enough but didn't speak much. That's all gone now, though." He surprises me by adding, "but my Hindi is pretty good!"
"Wait, what?" I pause in surprise and he smiles, pops a raspberry into his mouth, and says, "we'll get there."
