Return of Sebastian Sallow | 10 Yr After Hogwarts

Chapter 131: If There Were There Any Other Way

"April, dear..." Headmistress Weasley's face is grave and there's even more of a rasp to her voice than usual.

Tiredness? Nervousness? Likely both.

"Headmistress Weasley," I nod as she approaches me with urgency and a furrowed brow but keeps her hands to herself, wringing them in front of her buttoned-up, formal attire: a deep red, velvet skirt suit with a long, elegant overcoat of the same material and golden buttons. My stomach is still lurching from my own nerves and from the floo powder journey that always makes me churn. But tonight, time is of the essence.

She shakes her head, as if trying to cast off doubts and swirling thoughts, the likes of which are flooding my own mind, too. "Call me Matilda, dear. Tonight, we're in this together."

Breathe, April.

Quietly, I nod. Her motherly compassion shines through her eyes over her half-moon spectacles and the dampness of the underground cave begins to set into my skin, making my layers – and my heart – feel even more heavy.

"No time to waste," she says as she turns, casts lumos with her wand, and scuttles up the path with the classic tick-tick-tick of her low-heeled, sturdy boots. Automatically, I fall in right behind her, lifting at my heavy, champagne-colored, silk skirt to keep it off the ground. Logically, I know this cavern is as tidy as possible. I was down here last night for fuck's sake, releasing more lacewing flies for atmosphere, and scourgify-ing the living hell out of every surface in preparation for today. But I don't want there to be any sign on my dress of my having been down here tonight before the rest of the group.

After wandering through the antechambers of the repository to the sound of only our breathing, our heartbeats, and the echo of our footsteps, I finally clear my throat and ask the question I've been dreading. "Matilda? Have you spoken to Sharp about this?"

Breathing. Heartbeats. Footsteps.

Heartbeats. Heartbeats. Heartbeats.

Without turning around, Matilda clears her throat, too, and I watch her wand dip a little lower while she admits, "no. I didn't see the utility in it. He resisted my every suggestion..."

I'm not entirely surprised to realize the minimal impact this news has on me, physically speaking. I suppose I was expecting this answer. Because–

"Have you spoken to Sebastian about it?" Matilda interrupts my train of thought.

"No," I admit. "He would hardly approach the subject with me....I..." I stammer, trying to find an explanation, or a justification of any kind for what could easily become a huge wedge between my love and I. "Easier to ask forgiveness than permission, so they say."

"Yes. Something like that," Matilda says with a knowing tone and necessary chuckle to break the darkness of the tension between us. Pausing on the pathway ahead of me, having reached the massive guardians that stand before the doorway to the repository, she looks into my eyes and we both sigh with the gravity of this reality.

"April, if there were any other way–"

"I know."

"The fact they have goblins accompanying them, it only confirms..."

"I know. They want this magic."

She reaches out and squeezes my hand when we silently proceed together. My wand grants us entry to the space, being fused with the special wand Ollivander made me so many years ago, and it still feels so strange for this place to look so plain in comparison to what Ominis and I had built it up to be over the years.