The Shadow Trio | Year 7: Running from the Light

Part 9 - Hog's Head

~ Sebastian's POV ~

The door to the Undercroft violently slams shut behind me. The hallways gradually empty as the last few students make their way to their next class.

I can feel my heart pounding fiercely in my chest while the adrenaline surges through my veins, my breathing becoming short and rapid. I just need to get the fuck out of this place immediately before I turn around and tear Ominis a new asshole. Fucking meddling bastard, always sticking his nose in places it doesn't belon-

Don't think Seb, just move your fucking feet.

I approach the nearest Floo Flames lady and grab a handful of powder from the small sack in my pocket.

"I've always said that travel broadens the mind!"

I scoff with annoyance.

"Shut the fuck up and take me to Hog's Head." I reply while dropping the glittering powder into the bowl of flames.

And with that, everything goes dark.

——

As I open my eyes, I'm greeted by the snort of the mounted boar's head on the wall above the dingy bar. I slowly step out of the fireplace while taking in the dismal atmosphere around me, though it's the middle of the afternoon, only a small amount of sunlight filters through the windows, dimmed by years of accumulated grime. Many of the candles have been snuffed out, reduced to mere puddles of wax from prolonged use. The very few bodies that are presently in here, look as if they have never stepped outside since the goblin rebellion.

It's perfect... as I can assure you, I'm in no mood to be in such a chipper location such as the Three Broomsticks.

My boots echo beneath me on the creaky, hardwood floors. A grim looking goblin looks up from one of the rustic tables, and gives me a polite nod in which I return the greeting, now noticing that he's missing an ear. Across the small bar is an elderly man with a long grey beard playing a somber melody on his violin.

I reach the bar and take a seat on one of the old stools that hasn't been wiped down in a century or two. The barmaid quickly approaches, leaning into the counter directly across from me and exaggerates the motion, her bosom squeezed together. I smirk slightly at the desperate action.

"What are you having, handsome?" she asks, her voice tinged with a rasp.

I look up at her and examine her face, she's likely in her mid thirties but years of hard work has weathered her face to appear older. Her hair is pulled back messily, with stands of wiry curls escaping. Her eyes display exhaustion yet still hold an essence of wildness.

"Something strong." I respond dryly.

She grabs a bottle from beneath the bar and pours it into a short glass. The label on the bottle is rubbed off, so it could be drink of despair for all I know, but at this point, I don't give a fuck.

I shoot back the liquid fire and swallow the contents harshly. "Another." I insist.

She begins pouring the second glass when I hear a familiar, deep voice. "Good day, Mister Sallow."

I look at the figure standing to the right of me and recognize immediately that it's Professor Sharp. The glassiness of his dark eyes reveal to me that he likely arrived here right after he finished teaching Potions Class this morning. I follow his deep scar that begins at his right brow and trails down to his mouth, in which he has a cigarette placed between his dry lips.

"Professor Sharp, what are you doing here?" I ask before taking a second shot of the unknown liquor.

His lip twitches into a smirk as if I've said something to amuse him. "The Three Broomsticks isn't really am establishment for a man such as myself." He exchanges his cigarette for what ever is in his cup.

"What I meant to say was, what are you doing here in the middle of the afternoon?"

He furrows his brows and retorts, "And what are you doing here when you should be in class?"

"Fair point." I reply quickly.

"Another top up, dear." I gesture to the barmaid.

Sharp looks down at my empty cup. "Broken heart? That's your third one since you've arrived."

I down the third round served by the barmaid, watching as she wanders over to a vacant table and gives it a quick wipe. "Quite the opposite." I say while wiping a stay dribble off my chin.

"I'm going through a situation that I had to hide from my friends. They found out today, unintentionally." I admit to him, while making sure not to reveal too many details about my life.

"It's not good to lie to the only family you have left, you know... Merlin knows that I've made that mistake. But hey, who am I to judge the weight of your predicament."

More than the other professors, Sharp understands my situation more realistically. Him, Solomon and my father were all in the same year at Hogwarts so he's pretty familiar with my family. I've heard my uncle bad-mouth Sharp in the past, calling him a know-it-all prick. However, given Solomon's own track record, I never really trusted his opinion anyway.

"I wasn't lying to them. I was just... withholding information until the timing was right." I tell him.

He hums suspiciously. "What ever you have to tell yourself to make you sleep at night."

"It's true, I refuse to hurt the ones I love anymore. I've been down that path, Sharp. If I could take it all back, I would do it in a heartbeat."

"I have to make things right."  I say staring down at my empty cup.

"So, it's that girl with the ancient magic running through her veins, isn't it?" He grumbles.

I softly chuckle at his accurate observation, without denying it.

"The greatest weakness, man's deadliest weapon. Greater than a sword, more powerful than a wand, because it can destroy you in a single breath."

"Love." Sharp adds, finishing the poem I was referencing.

I watch him take the last few swigs of his drink before slamming the empty glass down on the counter. He grabs his tweed longcoat and slowly rises from his stool. After taking two steps, he pauses, turning his head just enough to reveal the profile of his weathered face.

"Mr. Sallow..."

"Hmm?"

"Don't turn out like your uncle."  and with that, he leaves Hog's Head Inn, the stench of cigarettes and whisky trailing behind him.

As I ponder our conversation, I can't help but notice the similarities that Professor Sharp and I share, hell... it makes me feel like I'm staring into a mirror that shows me what I will look like in thirty years but add alcohol abuse and crippling depression. I'm grateful for my friends, but I know that they will never understand what it's like to live my tragedy. That enough makes me feel alone at times.

"Come upstairs with me, handsome. I'll be sure to keep your bed warm." The barmaid says to me, pulling my attention back to the dreary bar.

I look at her, admiring her boldness. The wench has the face of a worn out harlot, but makes up for it with her beautiful tits. Sure, I could easily find something prettier, but I just need the temporary pain of today to go away, no matter the cost.

I down one more shot, now feeling the effects of the strong liquor she served me.

I sigh. "Oh, fuck it."