The Shadow Trio | Year 7: Running from the Light

Part 11 - Hufflepuff to the Rescue

~ Sebastian's POV ~

"Goodness, there you are."

I can hardly make out the muffled voice pulling me from the depths of sleep. As I come to, a wave of nausea washes over me, my stomach churning in anger. "Damn it, Sallow," I think to myself, "how hammered did you get last night?"

Drunken memories from the previous day begin filtering into my foggy mind. I vaguely remember the bar whore leading me up to her private room, serving me copious amounts of unlabelled, ancient-looking liquor. I fucked the broad like it was her last night on earth, and truthfully, that may come any day now judging by her rough appearance. This hangover is already worth the night of distractions.

"Oh wake up, Sebastian!" Poppy demands.

My eyes blink open as I shake off the reminiscent thoughts. I look towards the doorway of the small, dingy room and see Poppy's petite frame, taking up as little space as possible with her arms crossed in discomfort. She has on her mustard-yellow Hufflepuff scarf and a cream knit hat, leaving only the ends of her chestnut coloured hair to peak out.

"Poppy?" I mutter, confused.

I take a moment to gather my surroundings, the window is slightly opened, letting in the soft sound of rain. Though it is likely the late morning, it might as well be dusk due to the overwhelming amount of darkness from the dreary weather of the highlands. The room is decorated in moody gothic decor, a black ornate dressing table sits in the corner of the room with a layer of dust on the surface. The ambiance of last night has certainly changed now that the harsh clarity of sobriety hits me. I inhale deeply, a slight scent of mildew mixed with cheap perfume invades my nostrils, making my stomach churn once again. I'm going to vomit.

"Oh shit, pass me that bucket, quickly!" I urge to her.

Her black wellies slap against the hard wood floors of the Inn as she reaches for the steel bucket by the changing table and paces purposefully towards the bed with it. The small Hufflepuff drops the bucket in front of me, just in time for me to throw my head inside, spewing out my nights worth of poison and mental distress.

"Oh Merlin, Sallow." I hear Poppy say between hurls.

She continues, "Ominis certainly wasn't wrong with his prediction of why you didn't show up for class today. I thought you were above this Grubby place, Hogs Head is for squibs and goblins."

My clammy hands grip the sides of the bucket as I spit once more, then wipe my mouth with the back of my hand. "Oh, don't be so patronizing."

Poppy's upper lip turns into a sneer as she scoffs at me in disgust. "You look like shit... not to mention, you smell like it too." She takes two steps back from my contaminated hangover bubble.

"You're lucky I found you, and not Ominis, or even worse... you know who."

"Yay, lucky me." I say flatly, taking any little energy I have to emphasize my sarcasm.

"Oh, don't be such a grouch!" She exclaims. "Come on, let's get you out of bed and out of this goblin hole."

Poppy's high pitched voice drives a knife right into my brain, amplifying my splitting headache. I rub circles on my temples, trying to ease the irritation.

"Please. Stop talking so loudly, Poppy." I say desperately.

She watches me as a disappointed parent would, as if I need any more judgmental parental guidance in this lifetime.