Sweet Nothing (Hogwarts Legacy One-Shot Collection)

tis the damn season

Written for the December Discord writing event: Winter Wonderland 

The path from the castle to the nearby train platform in Aranshire isn't necessarily a long one, but Sloane takes her time traversing the snowy roads, pausing occasionally to admire the view. Despite the fact the Hogwarts Express is about to make its final departure of the year, she's in no rush. She's homebound for Nottingham, to celebrate Christmas and the New Year with her father, and under any other circumstances she'd be excited.

Her first few months at Hogwarts have been complicated, to say the least. Even with Professor Fig's assurance that their research and investigation into ancient magic can wait until her return, Sloane is hesitant to leave when they've only just begun. Though, given how busy she's been running around the Highlands fighting Ashwinders and trolls—all while balancing her schoolwork—perhaps a long break is necessary.

She thinks of her father and smiles, realizing just how much she misses him and the comfort of her childhood home. It'll be nice to be with somebody normal, someone completely unaware of her magical escapades. Not to mention the home-cooked meals she's gone without. Sloane can hear her father now, fretting over her appearance and worrying if she's eaten enough.

"Sloane!"

She furrows her eyebrows, momentarily confused as to why her father would use their surname when she realizes there's only one person she knows who calls her Sloane. She turns just in time to see Sebastian, face flushed and dark hair a wild mess in the wind as he jogs up the snowy path. When he finally catches up to where she is standing on the bridge he doubles over, leaning to rest his hands on his knees as he struggles to catch his breath. Sloane is quick to grab him when he nearly loses his balance, steadying him the best she can.

"Did you...run all the way from the castle?" she asks, alarmed when he wordlessly nods. She shakes her head in disbelief. "Why didn't you use the floo network?"

Sebastian flashes a sheepish, lopsided grin and she isn't sure if the color on his cheeks is from the exertion or embarrassment. "One track mind," he responds, still breathless.

It takes him a few minutes to regain his composure, glancing down to where their hands are clasped around each other's arms. They separate with a wide step and he nervously chuckles, attempting to brush his hair back into place without success.

"I heard you were leaving," he starts to explain, clearly anxious. "I wanted to...see you, before...well, I wanted to say goodbye, and...make sure that you...that we..."

Sloane understands his worry immediately and gulps down the nerves that squeeze at her throat, releasing a shaky breath as she tugs to loosen the scarf around her neck. Sebastian fidgets, rubbing the back of his neck and glances away, lips downturned in a frown, one she copies as the silence stretches into something awkward.

There's been a palpable tension between them ever since their discovery of Salazar Slytherin's Scriptorium. It had been on Sebastian's insistence, wanting to follow any lead he could to find a possible cure for Anne. After involving a reluctant Ominis, the three would've been trapped there forever if it weren't for...

Sloane can't fight the shiver that traverses her spine, a phantom pain gripping her for the briefest moment. It's enough for Sebastian to notice, his expression morphing into one of deep shame. He's expressed his regret and apologized more times than she can count, the guilt persisting even with Sloane's forgiveness. Unfortunately, the situation has somewhat soured their fast-formed friendship, both too naive and uncertain of how to navigate such intense emotions.

She anxiously fiddles with the embroidery on her scarf, a golden snitch in Hufflepuff colors. "It isn't like I'm...leaving forever."

"I know," he responds, but his tone makes it obvious that's exactly what he's afraid of. Sebastian's flicks his gaze to her face but it's fleeting, and he squints up at the gray sky instead. There's a gentle snowfall, the flakes that land on his freckled cheeks melting as soon as they make contact.