DELGADO || Sebastian Sallow (Hogwarts Legacy)

Part 5 - Tension and Quest

ꕀꕥ〡~𐀔~〡ꕥꕀ

❝I could feel it—his gaze pressing against me, like a predator sizing up its prey.❞

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I sat in the farthest stall of the girls' restroom, closing the lid so I could sit on top of it. My mind raced with the images I had seen in the crystal ball.

A unicorn in the woods—likely the one from my vivarium. A party... it looked like a Halloween celebration. Lips meeting in the dark. A familiar house—my home in Lleida. A sage blue door, one I had never seen before. Candlelight flickering on an unfamiliar table. A towering cliff in the high mountains. A strange hospital. A young girl with blonde hair... could that be me? A shadowy figure—tall and looming—but who was he? And the letter from Sebastian, still unread.

My heartbeat quickened, pounding in my chest as I struggled to steady my breath. The walls of the stall seemed to be closing in, pressing toward me. I raised my hands instinctively to stop them, but it was useless—I felt trapped. My body wanted to scream, but no sound escaped my lips. Curling into myself, I hugged my knees, resting my head between them, desperate to stay calm and keep the anxiety at bay. Every time I dared to look up, the walls crept closer, gliding toward me. Squeezing my eyes shut, I focused on a happy memory.

Then—a loud knock echoed against the stall door.

I opened my eyes. The walls were normal again. My hands were damp, trembling—I had been crying.

Another knock. "Are you alright in there, miss?" A young female voice.

I couldn't answer—I physically couldn't. No one could see me like this.

"Do I need to get a professor?" she asked.

"No!" My voice came out sharper than I intended. I swallowed and softened my tone. "No, it's alright. Thank you," I murmured, wiping away my tears.

The stall door creaked open just a bit, and the girl's eyes widened in shock. "It's you... Angella Delgado! I'm such a big fan!"

A small smile tugged at my lips. She couldn't have been more than twelve. Without hesitation, she handed me some tissue, then sat down beside me on the restroom floor.

"I'll stay with you, just to keep you company," she promised. "And I won't tell a soul that you've been crying. It'll be our little secret, Miss Delgado."

She opened her book on magical beasts and began to read, as if sitting in a bathroom stall with me was the most natural thing in the world.

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Later, I found myself in the library, head lowered, eyes scanning my book. A charm concealed its true nature from prying eyes.

It wasn't that I was ashamed of what I read—just that not everyone needed to know I enjoyed twisted romances and dark, alluring fantasy men. Each book was different, thrilling in its own way, and I devoured them all.

Tonight's story was about a dark-haired man who stalked a girl through her grand house. He loved her. She feared him. A complicated, intoxicating thriller—I was obsessed.

Flipping quickly, I found my place: Chapter 14, page 182.

To my left, in the farthest corner, sat a familiar blonde-haired man, engrossed in a deep black book with no title. He perched on his chair, feet tucked beneath him, eyes sharp and intent.

Curious, I wondered what he was reading. He, too, had used a charm to conceal the title.

And yet, watching him sit like that did something to me—something I couldn't explain. A slow, electric pulse stirred inside me. I tried to ignore it, forcing my gaze back to my book, but I kept glancing at him, drawn by an invisible thread.