How to Make a... Future | Sebastian Sallow x F!OC| One Shot Collection

Toast & Tribulation

A/N: a crack fic in which I explore an AU where Aurélie is a Slytherin, and she and Ominis are besties/Hogwarts royalty. Yes, there will be Mean Girls references.

~x~

When Ominis Gaunt had first introduced himself outside the Undercroft by threatening to have her expelled, Aurélie swore right then and there to hate him for the rest of her life. And for most of her debut year at Hogwarts, she did just that — vehemently.

Such was her pleasure at seeing the Heir of Slytherin scowl unhappily, she made it a point to purposely side with his best friend Sebastian in every ridiculous argument the pair had, until, quite to her dismay, she found herself on the receiving end of Sebastian's crucio to retrieve a book, trudging through scary underground catacombs in search of some weird old relic and, worst of all, an accomplice to murder when Sebastian's uncle Solomon found out about their misadventures and tried to intervene. 

It was only then did she realise she'd perhaps been a bit hasty in inadvertently encouraging Sebastian's descent into darkness out of pure spite — but one didn't just threaten a French girl when she'd done nothing wrong and get away with it. 

As it turned out, murder had a way of bringing people together (so long as you weren't the one being murdered), and she and Ominis quickly found themselves allied together under the common goal of covering up Sebastian's crimes and keeping him out of Azkaban. That allyship, as unlikely and bewildering though it may have been, was only strengthened when Anne, Sebastian's twin and the only witness to Uncle Sallow's death besides Aurélie, rallied against them, insisting that her brother deserved to pay for his crimes by having Dementors suck out his will to live for the duration of his life. 

Anne Sallow had been a formidable opponent indeed; as stubborn as her brother and twice as clever, it had taken all of Aurélie and Ominis’ combined efforts of cunning and resourcefulness to convince her to spare Sebastian a fate worse than death. 

Subsequently, their allyship morphed into friendship after Anne up and disappeared, feeling betrayed by her brother and her oldest friend (and decidedly not a fan of the New Fifth Year), and was only strengthened further when Sebastian withdrew into his own private pit of despair, shutting them out despite their best efforts to pull him out again. 

Driven together by the absence of the Sallow twins and a burgeoning sense of camaraderie, Aurélie and Ominis — later dubbed Aurelis by their many admirers — found themselves with no one else to turn to but each other. By their seventh year, having realised they were far more powerful together than they were apart, the pair had become not only best friends, but Head Girl and Head Boy respectively, founders of la Société du Papillon Bleu (an exclusive club in which Aurélie passed judgement on the latest fashion trends and Ominis agreed even though he couldn't see any of it), leaders of the school choir, and the two most popular and influential students Hogwarts had seen since the original founders had walked the halls. 

If they could cover up a murder together, they could do anything. 

‘The toast is dry,’ said Aurélie one morning when Ominis joined her at the Slytherin table. 

Today, being Wednesday, Ominis had foregone his usual Slytherin green and silver for a bespoke all-black blazer, waistcoat and tailored trousers; one of the many ensembles Aurélie had ordered for him especially from France. 

‘That is unacceptable,’ he sniffed. ‘Hand it to me, let me feel it.’

A quick touch of the toast was all the confirmation he needed. Dropping it back onto the platter like a used handkerchief, Ominis wiped the crumbs off his fingers and declared, ‘Toast is out.’

Aurélie agreed with a fervent nod. ‘Toast is so out.’

Across the table, his mouth full of toast, Sebastian quietly rolled his eyes. 

‘You two are ridiculous,’ he muttered. ‘You do know that toast is supposed to be dry, don't you?’

‘You do know that on Wednesdays we wear black, don't you?’ Ominis retorted, and then, as an aside to Aurélie, ‘He's not wearing black, is he? I can sense it.’

Dressed in his typical emerald and silver uniform, Sebastian's natural tenacity rendered him immune to the self-imposed fashion rules that dictated his friends’ outfit choices, but he knew better than to argue with their astute judgement of appropriate bread dryness, and by the end of the day, nobody at Hogwarts dared eat another slice of toast lest they be cast aside and shunned for the rest of their schooling days — and possibly even beyond. 

And so it went: unchallenged in popularity, fierce and beautiful and vaguely terrifying, Aurelis were free to reign over the student body, revel in their infamy and walk in slow motion down the corridors between classes without consequence or reprimand. 

One spring morning, struck by a sudden stroke of inspiration, Aurélie brushed Sebastian's hair so that it swept across the right side of his face instead of his left. The result caused a frenzy the likes of which hadn't been seen since Professor Weasley had been caught smuggling toast into the faculty lounge, and suddenly every student, male and female alike, were changing the parting of their hair in hopes of replicating Sebastian's natural good looks and easy nonchalance. 

‘I saw Sebastian Sallow wearing his hair swooped over the opposite way, so I'm wearing my hair swooped over the opposite way,’ was a common phrase heard throughout the castle that week, and Sebastian enjoyed his newfound rise in popularity until Aurélie had the genius idea to let a lock of hair loose from Ominis’ usual slicked back hairstyle, and Sebastian's right-sided swoop was forgotten in the fever pitch that ensued thereafter. 

When December rolled around, the subject of the approaching Yule Ball was all anybody could talk about. Rumours abounded about Aurelis, the King and Queen of Hogwarts, until the anticipation was palpable and the collective excitement simmered on the edge of frenzy: what would they wear? Who would they go with? Would they arrive as a trio, Aurélie, Ominis and Sebastian united as one terrifying entity, or would they bestow their company onto those brave enough to ask them as dates? 

And what of Aurélie's dress? Had it really been handmade by a commune of Veela within the Palace of Versailles, who'd once, under utmost secrecy, made garments for Marie Antoinette? As the weeks wore on, the scrutiny over Aurélie's gown became so intense she had to hire a security troll to guard over her wardrobe day and night. 

When the trio indeed did arrive at the Ball as one united front, and glided down the Grand Staircase together in coordinated outfits, a collective gasp of adoration arose from the rapturous crowd, and several people actually fainted; never in the thousand-year history of the Yule Ball — nay, in the wizarding world at large — had a vision of such profound beauty and perfection been beheld. 

Aurélie's dress was an iridescent dream of shimmering gauze, as delicate as butterfly wings. Woven with unicorn hair and real fairy dust, the colours shifted from baby blue and sweet pink, to pastel green and pale lavender with every elegant movement and catch of the light. Several real butterflies fluttered in her long braided hair, and on each arm, in matching silk suits and unicorn hair bow-ties, Ominis and Sebastian stood tall and handsome beside her, enjoying their place next to the ethereal beauty that was Aurélie Genevieve Collins. 

Once nothing more than a trio of misfits — an unknown French transfer student, a relucantant Heir, and an uncle-killing Dark Arts enthusiast — they'd risen above all adversity to come out on top. To come out as royalty. Overlooking the awestruck crowd, the three enjoyed their moment of glory until a great echoing bang sounded from across hall, and every head turned away from them. 

Framed in the great entrance doors, a blinding  vision of gold so bright they had to shield their eyes, stood a small figure, her dress cascading to the floor, glittering with what looked like pieces of pure sunlight woven into the silk. 

Somebody screamed, but whether from excitement or terror, Aurélie wasn't sure, until a moment later the stranger turned, moving so gracefully it made her want to cry, and a familiar face came into sharp relief. 

Their eyes locked from across the room. Beside her, Sebastian let out a gasp. 

Anne Sallow had returned to Hogwarts.