All The Magic We Made (Sebastian Sallow x Fem!OC)

Twin??

Discovering an underground cave in the Restricted Section of my school is pretty damn cool. Coming across murderous knight statues again, however, is not.

I've fought them in two separate epic underground rooms already, activating these magical bridges to get to each of them, all to follow the path that someone has seemingly set for me. I enter the next room, battered and out of breath from the two statues I fought in the first room, then the two I fought in the second.

I'm not surprised when I find six more lining the room I enter just now, but that doesn't mean I'm not going to groan in frustration and grumble a string of curses. I'm exasperated, and frankly, a little pissed off. Because, again, fact still is that I'm a kid with maybe a full two weeks of magical training. This kind of stuff is saved for level 10 lore at the very least.

Whoever is writing all of this crap into my life: please stop for a second and use your critical thinking skills.

I let out a huffy exhale, blowing the hair out of my eyes and bringing my wand to the ready. "Come on, just get it over with," I mumble.

One of the stupid-ass, pissy statues charge towards me with its axe raised. I proceed through the same motions I've been repeating for the past twenty minutes. Levioso, Accio, blast 'em—oh, here comes another one, Protego—Levioso, Accio, Incendio, et cetera et cetera. The adrenaline must be high, or I'm just unbelievably tired, because I'm barely reacting to the counterattacks anymore.

By the time there's only one standing, I'm on my last fucking nerve. Whatever these things are guarding better be better than a book. I blast the statue with spells until it starts stumbling, then grab one of its fallen comrade's dismembered leg. I lug the leg over and smash the statue with the leg over and over, until it falls into pieces on the ground. I toss the leg aside, shout a loud "Fuck!" at the top of my lungs, before taking a deep breath and smoothing out my hair.

And now I stalk into the next room, not caring if there's a murderous troll or dragon or goblin or statue or dark wizard waiting. I feel like my mom when dishes are left in the sink for too long. I feel like my dad when we're running late to catch a ferry. AKA I am at my wit's end and I don't give a flying fuck about what else is in my way.

Thankfully for any of those poor creatures, the next room is completely empty except for a book floating above a fancy basin of water.

So I did go through all that just for a book. Yay.

As I draw near to it, the book opens on its own, tilting downward and letting a drop of something liquid fall into the basin, before promptly combusting. So cute.

I approach the basin and look into it, realizing that it's not water. It's a Pensieve, like the one Professor Fig and I encountered in the vault. I recognize the ethereal ribbons swirling around.

I look around the room, chewing on my lip a little. I came this far, and I didn't fight ten stone statues for nothing. Might as well have a look.

With that decision made, I promptly dunk my head into the basin to view the memory.

***

A group of wizards approach a cliff, three men and a woman. Two of them, I recognize from the memory Professor Fig and I saw. The cliff overlooks a scorched town, dry and rocky. I can practically feel the dead grass crunching under my feet.

The group turns their head to the side, and I follow their gaze to see two young children with a man at the well. From my viewpoint, I can see that the well is lacking even a drop of water. The wizards must see this, too, because when the young girl spots them, the group raises their wands to the sky. Clouds block out the burning sun, and thunder claps. Rain soon follows.