Sinner // Sebastian Sallow

FOURTEEN

At the bottom of the slope, the grass grows up to your shins, soil completely invisible to the eye. The blanket of greenery never seems to thin out as you both walk closer to the lake, legs having to lift higher than normal to avoid the thick blades

Sebastian removes his outer robes when the grass continuously catches on the rim of the cloth, folding it neatly and hanging it over his bent forearm as you walk. 

The grass flattens down significantly by the time you reach the water's edge, but you're hardly paying attention. Your reflection stares back at you on the surface of the lake, looking just as surprised as you feel. It's so clear and vivid — you can't quite believe it.

"The water's at its warmest this time of year," Sebastian speaks to you from his reflection, before bending down and removing his shoes.

"What are you doing?" you frown as he removes his socks and places them inside the shoes. He doesn't reply straight away, taking a moment or two to roll his trousers up his shins.

Standing up straight, he puts his hands on his hips and leans slightly towards you, "What do you think I'm doing?"

He steps tentatively towards the edge, bare skin on the grass, and slowly sinks his feet into the water. You stand and ogle at him, not entirely sure what to do or say; and you're not even sure what fifth-year Sebastian would say, either.

The Slytherin looks back over his shoulder, "Well? Don't you like the water?"

You pause, eyeing him warily from your dry spot on the bank. Another moment of silence and he waves his hand to beckon you towards him.

It's a strange sight; Sebastian Sallow in a waistcoat, ankle-deep in a lake and a warm smile across his face. For once, you see nothing of the years of wear on his mind and troubled thoughts.

It can't hurt to try it; you don't think you ever have been paddling before. So you take off your socks and shoes, roll up your clothes to your ankles, and step out into the lake with him.

Carpeted in shells, the lake bed digs into the bottom of your feet as soon as you take your first step. You wince at the feeling, feet too soft, and take each movement hesitantly. They remind you of knives, and you wished to high heaven they didn't feel like knives either. 

Sebastian stays standing where he is, and doesn't react until your feet finally meet smoother clay.

"I've always liked it here," he takes his wand out from his shirt sleeve. "I thought you might like it too."

You watch as he skims the surface of the lake with the tip of the wand, transfixed by the ripples in the water, "Why do you come here?"

With one flick of his wrist, he brings the wand up into the air. As the wand changes direction and points to the sky, a huge funnel of water in front of you shoots upwards in an instant. The water tower travels to a height the double of your own, spluttering outwards at the top.

You let out an embarrassing noise, leaning backwards and away from the spray of water. Sebastian can only laugh, and flicks his wand several more times. With each wand flick, the water lifts higher and higher, only crashing down when he points his wand back towards the water bed. The following noise deafens you both; water splattering in every direction and covering the front of Sebastian's shirt, waistcoat and trousers. 

Pulling your own wand out, you bring a shield in front of you to avoid getting wet, and pull a face when Sebastian grins at you with water dripping down his face. He's more chaotic than you remember, that's for sure.

"What?" he laughs. "It's part of the fun!"

You roll your eyes, shaking your head in dismay, "Your kind of fun."