Cursed

Chapter 8

Sebatian and Gareth walked mostly silence, making their way to the Clock Tower Courtyard. Sebastian did not look like his usual devil-may-care self, with purposefully messy hair and bright mischievous eyes. His face was in a perpetual frown, his eyes and under eyes dark and his face sunken from the lack of sleep.

Once they reached the courtyard, Gareth spoke first. "It gets better, I promise. It will be a while before you feel comfortable in your skin and longer before you finally feel comfortable to open to those close to you. But I promise you'll overcome it."

Sebastian stopped walking. "I don't care about me, Weasley. I hate myself for what I did to her." He said without taking his eyes off the ground.

"I hated her."

Sebastian looked up at him, a hint of anger flickered in his eyes. This time, it was Gareth who lowered his head.

"I hated her for a while, I never let it show because it hurt to be away from her, but I blamed her for making me feel the way I did. Only once I realized that she was also hurting from the same feelings did I finally understand that what happened, happened to us, and not because of us." He said, kicking a pebble. It was the first time he had told anyone about the feeling in the early stages of recovery, and it was a mix of relief and discomfort. A weight off his heart but vulnerable.

"She's very dismissive about it," Sebastian said.

"She's not, trust me. It's just that what she went through with you is a fraction of what happened the first time. Tell me," Gareth adjusted his posture, crossing his arms. "How did you get out?"

"Same way as you did, I assume."

Gareth raised an eyebrow. "Left half naked and half dead on the edge of an ice-cold lake?"

"You didn't escape?" The realization that, in fact, Juniper and Gareth went through a much harder time began to settle in Sebastian's mind.

"No. She harvested our blood, and we fainted. Woke up near Lower Hogsfield."

A cold gust of wind blew through the courtyard drowning out the low ticking of the Clock Tower. The first signs of the end of autumn after all the trees had lost their leaves. Before Sebastian could continue his conversation with Gareth, a crowd of students gathered for a Crosswands Duel, interrupting the moment of privacy between the two.

Gareth walked up to Sebastian. "We'll talk later. If you ever need someone to listen, just send me an owl. I'm going to report the crime on my and Juniper's behalf. I'm keeping her anonymous." With that, he left. Sebastian was grateful for Gareth's help, warming up to the potion-obsessed redhead a little more.

                       ___________

Juniper finished buttoning her blouse. It was a relief to get out of the scratchy infirmary gowns and take a long hot bath. She scrubbed until her skin was red. If hair would grow overnight, she would've shaved it all off her head. She felt like a film was covering every inch of her body, like a molten skin of a snake after a shed.

"You're okay,
He didn't do this to you.
She did it to both of us."

Juniper repeated this hundreds of times since leaving the infirmary. Over and over again. Telling herself that gave her a sense of ease, staying on track of what really happened. She thought about the moment she couldn't hold herself any longer, how she couldn't keep her lips from his, how her skin ignited at his touch. She wanted it, even though she was magically induced, she was convinced she wanted him touching her, kissing her, pleasing her. Whatever the witch wanted to achieve, she did. When Juniper was leaving the infirmary, she felt a drop warm liquid slide down her thigh, and thankfully, Professor Garlik was available to supply a special contraceptive herb tea for a second time. A physical reminder of everything that happened wasn't a hellish nightmare. When she disrobed for a bath, she noticed bruises and bite marks along her neck and torso, even some on her inner thighs. More physical reminders.  The bite mark on the curve of her neck had been so deep that she needed stitches in some punctures. She hoped they didn't scar, the last thing she wanted was a permanent reminder.