Me and the Devil: Sebastian Sallow

Chapter SEVENTY FIVE - Never You Mind

(Thaïs: Méditation - Jules Massenet, Bomsori, NFM Wroclaw Philharmonic, Giancarlo Guerrero)

The days following our trip to Feldcroft was mainly spent holed up in the Undercroft after classes late into the night and early morning. Sebastian had convinced himself that should ancient magic not be the answer to his sister's curse, there had to be something within the Slytherin founder's spellbook. He ravaged through it as if nothing else could satisfy him, only pausing every now and then to stand and try his hand at the occasional spell. I spent my time shoulder to shoulder with him flipping through my own book, attempting to connect the dots of our recent discovery but falling short every time. The little symbol on the inside cover seemed to mock me, dim and dark. How much longer would it be before I could have a go at the second trial? We were running out of time, I could feel it.

Tonight was no different. Ominis had gone to bed early as he often did lately and left the two of us to pour over our respective texts. 

"Don't let him burn himself out." Ominis had placed a gentle hand on my shoulder, listening to Sebastian grumbling at the far end of the Undercroft. Tonight's spellbook pages were proving to be particularly useless. "He'll be no use to Anne a shell of himself."

He had nodded sadly before stepping out and leaving the silence of the room to the candles and muffled grunts of Sebastian's disappointment. He hadn't even noticed his friend's absence, too busy watching red and white sparks dance from the tip of his wand. He shook his hand before pressing the side of his finger to his mouth, much like one would do after getting burned.

"Fucking pointless." He muttered quietly around his finger before raising his wand again.

Lifting my back from the pillar and my bones from the stone, I stood quietly. I sidestepped around some discarded brown bags, black ribbons and pear pieces from our "midnight snack".

Tooby had lately required us to make requests because we were "too kind" to admit we preferred something particular. I wasn't sure if it was a misunderstanding or entirely on purpose, but Ominis would often find the oddest assortment or arrangement of food in his personal bag. He had once politely asked for pancakes with butter on the side and received a stack of pancakes with butter lathered only on the sides. Ominis, the sweetheart, would graciously accept the food with a genuine 'thanks' to the house elf but be utterly frazzled upon reaching the privacy of the Undercroft.

My smile at the thought dropped as Sebastian's spell misfired again and singed the tips of all five of his fingers this time. He dropped his wand, cursing and clutching his hand to his body.

I pressed a palm to his shoulder and he spun around wildly, brows creased and face entirely exasperated. "Don't- oh. Atley. I'm sorry." He looked down to his boots and I pulled his hands to mine, careful to avoid his burned fingers.

Sebastian had not only been torturing himself over his studies, but had been adamant on teaching me a few "important charms and spells for my safety" the last few days. He had carefully corrected my wand movement when teaching me a few healing spells, watched proudly as he guided me through counter-curses and offensive spells and grinned madly when I mastered a few dark charms he warned never to use around Ominis.

Now, I held the worn pads of his fingers out to the tip of my wand and healed the small burns with one of the spells I had learned.

"Ominis is right you know, if you keep at it like this, there will be nothing left of you to help Anne at all."