The Call of the Void (Sebastian Sallow x F!MC)

I: (U n) l u c k y

Darkness.

Nothing but black, eternal darkness.

It is all Siobhan sees—not that she can see anything. What's the last thing she remembers? Nothing comes to mind. For a moment she thinks she must be dead, and that the afterlife promised to her by a childhood pastor and God is a lie when she opens her eyes.

Darkness, still, but the glow of the full moon and stars make her current surroundings more bearable. Where exactly is she? She continues to stare up at the night sky, the gargantuan trees that surround her swaying in the late-summer breeze. For a long time, the rustling of leaves and wind is all she can hear until the sound of boots padding through the soil echoes through her ears.

"Are you alright, Miss Sloane?"

Suddenly, she remembers everything.

Four months ago she was just a simple girl, living in Nottinghamshire with her father on their family homestead. She awakes every morning with the sun to complete her chores around the farm and spends her afternoons in the garden, or perched on the tree swing up the hill with an old book. Her life is quaint and uncomplicated, until her sixteenth birthday when with a swish of her fork, she sends the celebration cake flying into the hearth.

A representative from the Ministry of Magic comes to the cottage shortly thereafter, effectively turning her life upside-down. Magic? She can wield magic? All she can think of are the Brothers Grimm fairytales that line her bookshelf, wondering if she'll end up as folklore—the strange girl from Nottingham who is secretly a witch.

An anomaly—that is what they call her, with only a handful of other cases on record of a person's magic manifesting so late in life. Not that Siobhan is old, but by wizarding standards, she is a very late bloomer. She remains in denial until another visitor arrives, this time a teacher sent from a magical school from which she has been offered admittance.

"Hogwash?" Mr. Sloane, her father, asks.

Professor Eleazar Fig shakes his head, a humored smile curling his lips. "Hogwarts," he clarifies. "More specifically, Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry."

The Professor is a man who resembles her maternal grandfather, grey hair and all. He is a patient and kind person, sitting for hours in the family kitchen answering every question that comes to her father's mind. Professor Fig will be her tutor that summer, should Siobhan and Mr. Sloane accept, preparing her with as much baseline knowledge as he can before the start of the next term.

It seems like a lifetime ago, now.

Then came an airborne ambush, followed by a disorientating apparition to the chilly Scottish coast, shadowy labyrinths filled with vengeful statues, and the power-hungry leader of a goblin rebellion. Not to mention the discovery of ancient magic. It is the same magic Siobhan uses to escape Gringotts with the Professor, frantically activating a magical portal that deposits them in the middle of an overgrown forest.

"Miss Sloane?"

Siobhan snaps out of her daze, grasping Professor Fig's outstretched hand so he can help her stand. As she dusts the dirt from her hands along the front of her soiled coat, the older man inspects the dilapidated brick from which they just traveled through. Three times now she has performed the feat, and she suspects it has everything to do with the ancient magic burning in her veins.

With her limited knowledge of the wizarding world, she cannot begin to speculate on her newfound power, seemingly dormant until she touches the container Mr. Osric received from Miriam Fig. Unfounded as it is, she can't help but feel strangely guilty for their deaths. She reaches up out of habit to fiddle with her braid, realizing with shock that the ends are burnt and frayed, likely from the dragon's fire she and Professor Fig barely evaded. There is little time to mourn the loss of hair, however, not when she isn't sure the danger has passed.