Whispers of my heart - Sebastian Sallow x OC

Yule Ball

The winter winds howled through the ancient stone corridors of Hogwarts, rattling the stained-glass windows and carrying with them the crisp scent of snow. Beyond the castle walls, the Black Lake lay frozen beneath a shimmering blanket of frost, reflecting the silver moonlight like a mirror. Inside, however, warmth and festive cheer filled every corridor.

The castle had transformed overnight. Evergreen garlands intertwined with twinkling fairy lights lined the staircases, casting a soft golden glow against the icy blue enchantment of the Yule Ball decorations. Floating candles hovered lazily above, their flames flickering as if in tune with the distant sound of holiday carols that echoed faintly from the Great Hall. The scent of mulled cider, cinnamon, and pine needles drifted through the air, a fragrant promise of the magical night to come.

The Yule Ball was a time-honored tradition, and even the most hardened students found themselves swept up in its enchantment.

Sebastian, however, had something else entirely on his mind.

Finding a moment of quiet in the chaos leading up to the ball was no easy feat, but Sebastian had always been resourceful. He caught Ophelia just as she was leaving the library, her arms full of books, her brows furrowed in deep thought.

She barely had time to register his presence before he smoothly took the books from her grasp, a smirk playing at his lips.

"Heavy reading?" he quipped, glancing at the titles—Dark magical theory, ancient spells, and something about enchanted artifacts. "Lighthearted, as always."

Ophelia rolled her eyes, adjusting the strap of her satchel. "You know me. Always looking for a way to be prepared."

Sebastian hummed, then glanced around. The halls were bustling with students eager to finish last-minute preparations, yet amidst the noise, he found himself focused solely on her.

"Ophelia," he started, shifting slightly, uncharacteristically hesitant. "The Yule Ball. Would you—" He caught himself, then exhaled a chuckle, shaking his head as if realizing how ridiculous it was to be nervous. He lifted his gaze to hers, full of a quiet, undeniable confidence. "Come with me."

Ophelia arched a brow, arms crossing. "Oh? Not even a 'would you do me the honor,' or a 'my dearest Ophelia, my one and only, please say yes'?"

Sebastian grinned. "I figured you'd say yes either way."

She stared at him for a moment, then sighed dramatically. "You're an insufferable idiot, you know that?"

"And yet?"

Ophelia's lips curled into a smirk. "And yet, of course, I'm going with you. You're my idiot, after all."

Sebastian's grin widened. He shifted her books back into her hands with exaggerated formality. "Then I'll see you at the bottom of the stairs, my lady."

She scoffed but didn't bother to hide her smile.

As the evening of the ball arrived, Ophelia found herself in the dormitory, surrounded by Anne and Violet, the three of them caught in the whirlwind of getting ready.

Anne stood before the mirror, twisting strands of her auburn hair into an elegant updo, her usually carefree expression replaced with one of rare concentration. Violet lounged on one of the canopy beds, fiddling with a delicate silver bracelet, her dress already on—a deep violet creation that shimmered with every movement.

Ophelia, however, stood before her own reflection, staring at the dress her parents had gifted her for her birthday. It was breathtaking, yet she hesitated before slipping into it, fingers ghosting over the fine embroidery.

"Stop staring at it like it's cursed," Anne teased, coming up behind her. "It's stunning. You'll outshine every girl there, and you know it."

Ophelia huffed. "It's just... I don't usually wear things this fancy."

"Which is exactly why it'll make Sebastian lose his mind," Violet chimed in, her grin wicked. "He's already completely gone for you. This will just be overkill."

With a sigh of resignation, Ophelia relented.

The deep emerald green silk cascaded down her form like liquid moonlight, cinching perfectly at the waist before flowing down to the floor in effortless waves. Silver embroidery wove through the fabric in intricate, swirling patterns, catching the candlelight in delicate glimmers. The bodice, adorned with the same silver threads, framed her figure with an understated elegance that felt both regal and timeless.

Anne stepped in, carefully securing the final touches—silver hairpins in Ophelia's white locks, ensuring the soft waves fell in just the right way.

When she turned back to the mirror, she barely recognized herself.

For once, she wasn't the girl with ink-stained fingers, buried in books and magical theories. She was something else entirely.

The air inside Hogwarts was thick with anticipation as students made their way to the Great Hall. The enchanted ceiling sparkled with suspended snowflakes, catching the light of floating chandeliers that cast a golden glow over everything. The grandeur of the event was overwhelming, but Ophelia barely registered it.

Because at the bottom of the stairs, waiting for her, was Sebastian.

He was dressed in deep black dress robes, tailored perfectly to his tall frame. A dark green cravat, matching the very shade of her dress, was the only embellishment to his otherwise effortlessly dashing appearance. He stood in casual conversation with Ominis and Ayden, but the moment he sensed her arrival, he turned.

Their eyes met.

For a moment, the bustling crowd, the glimmering lights, the sound of chatter and distant music—it all faded.

Sebastian's breath hitched slightly, and then a slow smile stretched across his lips.

Ophelia descended the steps, and though she told herself she was imagining it, she could've sworn he took a step forward, as if drawn to her by an invisible force.

When she reached him, his eyes roamed her face, her dress, the way the candlelight caught in her white hair.

"Ophelia," he breathed, voice slightly rougher than usual. He cleared his throat, shaking his head as if trying to gather his words. "You look... gods, you look unbelievable."

Heat crept up her neck, but she held his gaze, lips quirking. "You're not too bad yourself, Sallow."

He exhaled a soft chuckle, reaching for her hand without thinking. His fingers brushed over hers, warm and steady.

"Shall we?"

Ophelia nodded, and just like that, they stepped forward together.

The Great Hall was transformed into a ballroom of unparalleled beauty. Ice sculptures of enchanted creatures lined the edges of the room, glistening under the twinkling chandeliers. The floor itself shimmered with a frosted sheen, and a grand orchestra played from the raised platform, the waltz filling the space with a melody both haunting and beautiful.

Sebastian led her to the center of the floor.

As they moved, the world blurred around them.

The dance was effortless—he spun her with perfect precision, pulling her close only to send her twirling once more. Each step, each turn, was a silent conversation between them. A whisper of something unspoken.

He dipped her gently, his face just inches from hers.

"I knew you'd outshine everyone tonight," he murmured, eyes dark with something Ophelia wasn't ready to name.

She exhaled a breathless laugh. "And I knew you'd be insufferable about it."

He grinned, pulling her upright, pressing his forehead to hers for just a second longer than necessary.

The night stretched before them, endless and full of possibility.