DELGADO || Sebastian Sallow (Hogwarts Legacy)

Part 81 - Clipped wings and Madness

ꕀꕥ〡~𐀔~〡ꕥꕀ

❝And I'm the only one who doesn't ask her to clip her wings.❞

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~Sebastian's POV~

Marvolo slammed me against the wall, his hand clamped around my throat.

"Listen carefully, fuck face!" he snarled, his voice echoing off the stone walls of the dungeon like a curse etched into the air.

I burst into a fit of hysterical laughter, unhinged, wild, like I was on the edge of madness with no tether left to hold me back.

He stared at me, a mixture of disgust and something like disbelief flickering in his eyes.

Was I scaring him?

Good.

"Oh, listen to you," I choked out, grinning like a lunatic. "Really, Gaunt? Haven't you learned by now? I don't take your orders."

His grip tightened, cutting off my air. "Well, you should," he growled.

I clawed at his arm, pushing him away, but he only pressed harder. Where the hell had he found this strength?

Then his fist drove into my stomach, hard.

I crumpled to the floor, wheezing, but still laughing like a madman. The sound echoed again, loud and jagged in the suffocating dark.

"You have an insane, twisted soul, you know that?" he said, oddly intrigued.

I looked up at him slowly, amusement burning in my eyes. "And she loves it."

He stared for a second, then scoffed, monotone. "Of course she does... That's why she loves me just as much as she loves you."

He took a few steps back, hands sliding into his pockets, his voice cool and casual, as if we were discussing philosophy and not bleeding on the stone floor.
"If you want things to work with Angella, Sallow, you'd better act fast."

I coughed, dragging myself upright, blood trickling from the corner of my mouth. I wiped it away with the back of my hand and stood, slow but defiant. "You really think this is about owning her, don't you?" I spat. "You don't love her, Gaunt. You want to possess her."

That hit a nerve.

His body stiffened, eyes narrowing with something sharp and violent behind them.

"You think I don't love her?" he repeated, stepping toward me with the grace of a predator. His voice dropped. Deadly.

"Why does everyone assume I'm just like my father?" he muttered bitterly.

"Because you act like him, you noble-born prick."

But Marvolo didn't flinch.

"Angella is made of fire," he said, voice low, feral. "The kind that burns everything around her. Everyone but me. Because I don't flinch when she scorches. She's a fragile phoenix. You want to save her from the pain, from the dark, from herself. But I let her live it. I kiss every demon on her shoulders until there's nothing left but ash. She hides with you. She exists with me."

There was a madness in his eyes now, something unchained, brutal, and oddly reverent.

"You'll never love the darkest parts of her the way I do," he said. "You joke it away. You distract her. But the rage, the jealousy, the cruelty, the pain, the parts she thinks make her unlovable, I worship them. I would burn the fucking world down to protect them. I don't care if she curses me, if she throws everything she has at me, as long as she's standing tall in her truth."

He stepped closer, voice a whisper, almost reverent.

"She's not an angel who fell. She's a devil who learned to fly. And I'm the only one who doesn't ask her to clip her wings."

"Then why are you still trying to control her?" I snapped, my voice rising with every word, the air between us crackling with tension.

Marvolo's hand twitched, like he was balancing on the edge between violence and restraint. For the first time, his trademark smirk slipped.

"Who said anything about control?" he said, voice low. "All I ever did was give her choices. Opportunities. She always had the chance to walk away. I never forced her into anything. She pulled the strings, I just followed her lead."

"You think because she's in your bed, she's not in mine?" he added, voice dipped in venom, the words laced like poison. "You think one kiss makes her yours?"

I stepped forward, eyes locked with his, our faces inches apart. "I don't have to own her to love her. That's the difference between you and me, Gaunt. You destroy everything you touch. I'm the one helping her heal."

A heavy silence fell.

Then, without warning, his hand shot up and slammed into the wall beside my head, his jaw clenched tight, breath sharp and ragged.

"Helping her?" he hissed, his voice laced with something between hatred and heartbreak. "Whether she admits it or not... you broke her first, Sebastian. I saw it. Every piece of it. You think I don't know? I was in her head. I saw what you did, with Legilimency. Or do you need a reminder of what happened in Alturas?"

My jaw tensed. "I know what I did," I muttered. "I don't need a reminder."

His nostrils flared, but he said nothing.

In the distance, the heavy dungeon door creaked open. Footsteps echoed against the stone. Then Lorenzo's voice called out "Anyone in here?"

Marvolo stepped back, eyes locked on mine.

"Tick tock, Sallow," he said quietly, raising his wand. "Let's see who she chooses in the end."

And with a faint crack he apparated away.