In my heart, I know I failed you
But you left me here alone.
If I could hold back the rain,
Would you numb the pain?
'Cause I remember
Everything
Remember Everything
-FFDP
____________
Spring 1897
Sebastian POV
AUROR KILLED IN BOTCHED RAID-TURNED-AMBUSH
I glowered at the headline of that wretched publication. The patron beside me had discarded it on the bar two pints ago, perfectly in view for me to read. I did so from my periphery as I finished off another Firewhisky Old Fashioned. My grip on the glass tightened with each word; I was surprised it hadn't shattered, already.
An Auror was killed this Saturday past when a midnight raid was sabotaged by a Viper ambush.
I was a fool. I had walked us right into it.
It was my fault.
The Aurors were horribly outnumbered. Officer Callan Fenwick of the British Auror office was killed in the onslaught. Dark Wizard Ackley Barnes is still at-large and wanted for questioning in relation to the Aurors death, in addition to the murder of Claire Beaumont.
Cal's body was not even in the ground, and they were making a spectacle of him. McClaggan would surely have someone's head if he knew which miserable bastard had leaked it to the Prophet.
Torrential rains and destructive winds limited visibility and flight capability as heavy storms passed through the area. The British Auror Office has not yet commented on whether this contributed to the failure of the operation.
Yeah, no shit.
The rolls of thunder and flashes of lightning made dueling nearly impossible. We could not tell where each sound or burst of light was coming from as spells were hurled at us from all directions. Disoriented, I lost track of Cal in the trees.
I was supposed to shield him, keep him at my back so no one could get the drop on him.
By the time the next lightening strike lit the forest, Cal was lying at my feet.
The rain only washed away the blood, though I could not remove the stains from my hands for days.
The British Auror Office has not yet identified his partner to the Daily Prophet, but they provided comment that the second Auror involved survived with only minor injuries.
I almost laughed.
'Minor injuries'.
Is that what you call this?
My heart had not beaten all week, to the point I could no longer tell if I still had one. That seemed like a bloody medical emergency to me.
Officer Fenwick is survived by his wife, Katherine Fenwick, and newborn son, Bastien Fenwick.
"Awful shame," the barkeep comments in a gruff voice, nodding to the paper that I suddenly realized I was clutching in my trembling hand. "I feel for 'is poor widow. And the boy, growin' up without 'is father. Damn shame, indeed," he tsked as he walked to the other end of the bar.
They should have put me in the ground with him. Or better yet, let us trade places so his son could have a father. I at least had the privilege of knowing my mine, while Bastien would grow up with no memory of his.
The only memories he would have were the ones that his mother or I could pass on to him. I doubted I ever would. Though Cal had done me the great honour of naming his child after me, I would never be able to look into that child's stormy-blue eyes without seeing his father reflected in them.
My heart, or rather the void in my chest, ached for Katherine. She was a muggle midwife, a kind-hearted woman who had opened her home to me for the past two Christmases. She was the least deserving of the hand she had been dealt.
Cal was a devoted husband who loved her fiercely. There was no doubt in my mind that he would have been the most capable, protective father to that boy, had he gotten to spend more than six weeks in the role. Their story had just begun, and suddenly Katherine was left to bear it all alone.
It should have been me. Why couldn't it have been me? At least I would not be leaving anything behind.
Another Firewhisky cocktail appeared in front of me. I didn't order it, but I tilted it into my mouth anyway. The liquor didn't burn anymore, but it kept me warm.
A tugging sensation around my neck distracted me from reading the rest of the article, as if I needed to read it to know what happened that night.
The infernal woman that had been clinging to my side all evening was trying to pull me away from the bar by my tie.
She thinks she's being cute, but she's not. It's not fucking cute.
My drunken ass followed her anyway - stumbling, staggering, and struggling to get the drink to my lips. I strained my eyes to focus on her as the floor shifted beneath my feet.
Her hair is the wrong shade of brown, and she's too short.
Once in her room, she pressed her hands to my chest and herded me toward the bed. The mattress took me out at the knees, forcing me to sit and look up at her.
Her eyes are the wrong color.
The bed creaked beneath us as she joined me, straddling me with her thighs hugging mine. I was overwhelmed by a scent I could not place. All I could tell is that she smelled.... Fake.
I miss the smell of flowers.
She planted sloppy kisses down my neck as she fumbled with the buttons of my shirt. She probably assumed my catching breath and shivers were the result of arousal, when really they were in response to her ice-cold hands each time they brushed against my skin.
She's wrong. She's all wrong.
And no amount of Firewhisky could make it right.
____________
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Under Your Scars || Sebastian Sallow x MC
Fanfiction"The professor and I froze, unable to move or speak yet sharing a solemn understanding. We discovered something we did not even realize we were searching for: An Ancient Magic wielder." Eight years after the events of the repository, Sebastian Sallo...
