Exile || Sebastian Sallow

9 | Wishful Thinking

"I really thought that I could fix this.
But nothing's different."
—Gracie Abrams

───•~❉᯽❉~•───

9 | Wishful Thinking

Belle's Perspective

The next few days felt like a blur, often consisting of sleepless nights and mornings full of whispers about the incident from the library.

Did you hear? A girl's died in the Restricted Section...

A fifth-year Hufflepuff they say...

Did you know her?

She never was a talker...

What was she even doing in there?

She was so sweet, I'd spoken to her...

Her poor parents...

For a few days, those words would circulate Hogwarts wherever I walked. A mix of fear and curiosity settled in every student's eyes, some coming up to me to ask if I'd seen anything.

I've also seen some students flocking to Sebastian, telling him to spill any information he had considering we were there that night for detention.

Both of us had acted nonchalantly as if we didn't find the body. The professors had sworn us to secrecy until investigation could solve it.

We had been questioned about anything else we might've seen that night, and that moment felt like a memory of when we got questioned after the events of the Repository in the fifth year. A mirror of the past.

It took a lot of effort not to please others with the truth, my skin often prickling from the fiery words I held back. I wanted to tell them they should at least show some compassion, a girl died for Merlin's sake!

Since that night, I'd been having nightmares I hadn't had in forever, as if they had been dug up from the deepest trenches of my mind I'd buried long ago.

And if it wasn't nightmares, it would be questionable dreams. The ones that were neither good nor bad. They just didn't make sense. And there would always be someone with me in those dreams though I couldn't see their face.

Sometimes I'd hear their voice in the dream but I'd forget how they sounded come morning.

I also hadn't spoken properly with Sebastian in those days, except for our subtle glances and quick murmurs in Advanced Potions since we had to share the same table.

In other classes where we had other people with us, we wouldn't speak at all. It was weird but also expected. Just because we had one civil night together didn't mean we were friends again in an instant.

Still, I thought perhaps after he dropped me off at the Ravenclaw Common Room, that something had shifted between us, even a little bit. But we'd barely even spoken so I couldn't make any judgment.

I refused to make the first move, especially with a boy of all people. He could do it himself if he wanted to.

And I wished he would if I was being honest with myself.

"Belle? Hello? Hogwarts to Belle?"

I blinked and halted in my tracks, coming back to the present. I didn't realize I'd been staring at my feet, lost in thought while Ethan and I walked to the Quidditch pitch—me in my regular clothes, him in Slytherin Quidditch uniform.