Hogwarts Legacy: The Price of Power

Loss

"Right, that's the general objectives out of the way," the portly Ministry Wizard said, shuffling his parchment, his sideburns quivering as he spoke. "Now, item one, reviewing the terms of the bail of one Sebastian Sallow."

Sebastian shifted in his seat, fighting not to fidget. Twenty whole bloody minutes of going over objectives, and they hadn't even got to the first point! He bit down on a groan. He had a horrible feeling he was going to be here for hours.

His mind strayed downstairs as the portly wizard began to drone on, covering the conditions of his bail. Dracaena and Ominis were down there, somewhere, wandering around together, having fun, without him. He glowered. It wasn't bloody fair. He shouldn't expect them to sit around and just wait for him, but hell, would it kill them to just be close by when he needed them? He knew he had nothing to worry about, they were only friends, after all, Ominis had told him so. Repeatedly. Dracaena had told him so too, right before they kissed for the first time.

The corner of his mouth lifted in a smile before he could catch it. Merlin, he still couldn't quite believe it, the way she smiled, like sunlight, the way she smelled like caramel and cream, the way she laughed, like... he caught his chuckle just before it slipped out of his chest. Like a bloody cannon. She laughed like a cannon firing, followed by a filthy chortle that would warm him even if he'd taken a bath in snow. And she was his. It should be illegal to make his stomach flip over like she did, and it was all he could do to maintain any semblance of composure when she was near. Hell, even when she wasn't.

He tuned the portly wizard out as he rambled on, his mind drifting to that glorious afternoon, the two of them tangled together, and Merlin, the way she made him feel... if it was anyone else, he would have been embarrassed by the whimpered pleas he uttered, imploring her for more, begging her to fuck him just the way she did... but... she made him feel so... so safe. So loved. He hoped the same was true for her.

He couldn't help but remember her hands on him, visualising the way she looked at him, doing things his own hands could only conjure a poor imitation of, and Merlin help him, her lips, her mouth, her tongue, her-

He shifted in his seat, his face growing warm as he yanked himself back to the present, trying to ignore the condensing warmth and insistent hardness that begged for attention. Shit, not here, not now! he berated himself silently, and tried to conjure an image of Uncle Solomon in a bathing suit and frilly bonnet to distract himself.

He blinked, his brows drawing together as a high, thin sound wove its way into the private room of the Three Broomsticks as the Ministry Wizard prattled on. A sound as sharp as shattered glass, a keening, despairing wail that set his teeth on edge. He came back to himself, tilting his head as the sound grew, and his blood turned to ice.

He'd know that sound anywhere. He'd heard it every day for a whole year in Azkaban, amidst black misery and unrelenting torment, and he'd spent every day since praying to anything and everything that he'd never hear it again. But the sound was unmistakeable.

Dracaena was screaming.

Sebastian stumbled to his feet, his heart wrenching against his ribs as Professor Weasley and the Ministry Wizards tilted their heads, listening. The portly one roused himself.

"Mr Sallow!" he barked. "Sit down, we're not done with you yet!"

Sebastian didn't respond. He staggered towards the door as Professor Weasley jumped to her feet, his stride growing steadier as he yanked the door open, almost falling down the stairs and pelting into the street, paying no mind to the voices calling him back. He paused long enough to identify the direction in which the screams were coming from, and then he was running, his heart in his throat, his breath wrenching from his lungs, throwing gawping people out of his way, his head spinning, for he couldn't seem to get enough air.