Passionate Professors || Sebastian Sallow

Part 1 | Ch. 9 - Wine Drunk

Poppy and I settled in at a high-top table in the corner by the brick fireplace at the Three Broomsticks. Witches and wizards packed the small dark pub, their chatter drowning out any eavesdroppers for our own conversation.

A big Italian bartender came over and asked what we wanted to drink.

I ordered a bottle of Pinot Noir for us to share, it was our drink of choice when we were together, knowing I'd have to order another one in an hour or so. He came back quickly with two glasses and an uncorked bottle, pouring a serving in each and leaving the table soundlessly.

"So how are you really doing, G?" Poppy asked after we raced through our first glass, the warmth of the red wine already spreading to my cheeks. She knew I'd get to talking with a bit of a buzz on and for some reason, besides Sebastian, she could read between the lines as if I were a worn textbook. It was a skill they both developed after realizing I wore every single emotion on my expression. Poppy could pick up on the subtle shift of my gaze or my clenched jaw, knowing my thoughts before even I did.

I sighed, allowing my tired eyes to drift to the floor. "It's been great being back but it's also been like plunging into the Black Lake in the winter." I fiddled with my gold bracelet, licking my lips. "I thought I was over it, you know? Time heals all wounds right? But I guess time was just a bandaid." I sighed heavily, allowing the weight to settle on my shoulders, a cold iron clicking into place.

She reached over the table and held my hand, squeezing it. "I know," she continued softly, "are you going to talk to him?"

I winced at the fact that him meant Sebastian, taking a sizable gulp from my glass. "I think I have to, Pops. Our bedrooms are right next to each other and he's teaching Potions and we're both representing Slytherin." I held my heavy head in my hands, my skin starting to tingle but not just from the wine. "I guess I don't know what to even say after all these years. I constantly looked for him while I was in the Highlands, sent for him so many times, Merlin, I even showed up in Feldcroft to find the cottage burned to ash. He made the choice not to respond to my owls or try to find me."

"You don't know his side yet," she said carefully, always choosing to see the good in people, "maybe it was a misunderstanding."

"Yeah, a misunderstanding that could've been worked out easily if we just talked." I poured myself and Poppy another round, emptying the last drop of the wine bottle into her glass. Tears formed in my eyes, betraying my hardened exterior. I hated living with a big question mark over his name because part of me wanted to believe it was truly a misunderstanding. That somehow, I was completely wrong about Sebastian's intentions and he'd come back to me. I still held out hope, even if the thought singed me like fire. "I couldn't even get a word from Ominis. He wanted nothing to do with me either."

"Sebastian ignoring you and holding a grudge is one thing but Ominis? He was like a brother to you. I'll never understand that." She shook her head in disgust, "even if he was loyal to Sebastian, he could've at least been honest with you. I've talked about this with Leander and he agrees, it was wrong of them to treat you that way, they were your best friends." I hadn't realized how closely we were leaning into each other, how I hung on her every word. Once Poppy got heated, she was difficult to simmer down and I could see it happening right before my very eyes. The wine, the love we each had for one another as best friends, she was ready to implode with frustration for me.

A welled tear rolled down my cheek and I brushed it away with my hand. Ominis cutting ties with me after Anne died was strange, he of all people knew my support would've helped both of them get through that horrible loss. She was my friend too, after all. Shame on me I guess, for thinking something so tragic could bring us together again, that we could lean on each other during time filled with such sorrow.