He Couldn't Be That Bad? // Sebastian Sallow and You (spicy)

44. Fortunate Misfortune

As soon as our feet touch the smooth stone floor of the hospital wing I drop to my knees. I desperately need to go find an ancient magic source, maybe a few, because I feel like I haven't slept in days.

Sebastian wastes no time and trudges to a bed, shifting Damon down to lie on it. Damon's head wound is still bleeding profusely, matting fresh red blood over the dried dark clumps that have matted his hair. His breathing is short and rapid, and as I reach for his hand it feels cold and clammy.

Sebastian straightens and rotates his shoulders a few times to work out the stiffness. He looks exhausted, but he still walks over to me and eases me to a sitting position at Damon's feet before I collapse completely.

The Hospital wing is all but overrun with students. Many seem to be alright, simply bumped elbows and chins from taking a hard fall after a petrifying spell, sitting under a blanket, mostly in shock. But those from the anti-poacher club seem to have taken a brunt of magic from the intruders, students sit on beds clutching bloodied rags to their heads or noses. Nurse Balmy is hopping from bed to bed, triaging the students and assigning Cressida and some other seventh years to tend to their injuries.

Professor Weasley is talking to Lucan and by the look on his face, he could be facing a lot more than detention. He's sitting in a bed, his arm wrapped in so much layers of gauze it looks like a club. But its attached to his body still and that feels like a win.

Hecat spots us and scuttles over to us as fast as her short legs will allow. "Mr. Sallow. I'd like a word."

Sebastian stands. As he puts a hand on my shoulder he sucks in a deep breath, his chest rising. "I'm not leaving her. So if you're going to send me to detention, or expel me, let's get it over with."

Hecat chuffs. "Hardly. And are you really so eager to leave this school?" It's a question, but she's not really asking; it's a challenge more than anything. After Sebastian shakes his head, she turns to inspect Damon. She waves her wand over his head, and the skin that split across his scalp stitches itself back together. The bleeding stops and his breathing becomes regular. Then she sits down on the bed beside me, massaging her knee with her knobby hand. "I'm impressed. You've surprised me. And that doesn't happen often."

Sebastian looks more shocked by this news and I think it would have surprised him less if they'd expelled him entirely. "Thank you?"

"And thanks to you I won a thousand gold. Some of which might find its way into your Christmas stockings in the form of some sweets." Hecat turns her attention to my neck once she sees the bandages. She continues to speak as she slowly unwraps them. "Mr. Sallow. Your performance today... both of them." She looks at him down her nose despite being more than a foot shorter, and sitting down. "Was quite spectacular. Your ability to deflect masterful spellcasting was at an utterly professional level. And some of the spells you used..." She paused, waiting for him to fill in the answer.

Sebastian shrugs one shoulder, like this wasn't an incredibly impressive feat. "I'd been using ones of my own invention or combining things I'd read in the library."

Her eyebrows raise at that. "Hmm." She hums, her only response, and turns her attention to my neck. Finishing up closing the gashes from the chomping cabbages with skilled ease.

I'm thankful it's her doing it, as I'm sure she'd seen plenty of injuries in the field. There's likely fewer in the castle I'd trust to help put me back together.

Hecat, satisfied with her work, sits on the bed, her posture straight, her eyes calculating as they take in Sebastian. "How were you able to control Fiendfyre? I've seen more mature wizards than yourself not be able to conjure it, and I've seen even masters fail to control it."