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Sebastian is sure that he thought the same thing last time. Never again.
Yet here he is, jumping up onto a floating box to scale the crumbling walls of another abandoned castle, and when he heaves himself up onto another creaking wooden scaffold platform, he’s thinking it. One wood plank give way more than he would like, and he beats Elsie to the last ladder that gets them onto the castle’s ramparts. “Why are we here again?” he asks as she joins him by the rampart’s walls. They peek over the edge, and Sebastian counts at least seven poachers. “Some lady said these poachers have been encamped here for weeks,” Elsie whispers. Sebastian can’t hide the way his chest is heaving with the physical effort of clambering up a 20-foot wall, but Elsie is just barely puffing, and he wonders how many bloody castles she’s scaled for her to be so unaffected.
“You alright?” Elsie asks, her face shadowed by her hood.
Sebastian pulls his hood down, relishing the delicious feel of the cool breeze wicking away the warm sweat on the back of his neck. “I feel like I just scaled a mountain and wrestled a dugbog,” Sebastian admits. “What, do you do this every day?” Elsie tugs off her own hood as she drops back to sit down on the stone floor. Sebastian follows her lead, grateful for the respite. “Something like that,” she says with a mischievous glint in her eye and Sebastian shakes his head. “You won’t have time to prepare for N.E.W.Ts if you keep this adventuring up,” he says, and she sticks her tongue out at him.
“Nerd,” she says. She readjusts the leather strap that holds her wand against the small of her back, turning it forward so that it sits on her hip instead.
“Academia does run in the family,” Sebastian says. “Evidently,” she says as she scans him top to toe. “What?” Sebastian says, looking down at himself. “You’re going to need better clothing than a nice suit if you’re going to come along to my adventures,” she says, jiggling her foot to show him her brown leather boots. They were obviously weathered, needing a fresh oiling, and the leather straps that lace half-way up her shin were faded and tattered at the edges. Her dark beige linen pants taper from the waist down, as practical as what the farmers would wear to work the fields, except the material was far finer, and the shape more expertly tailored.
Sebastian cocks his head curiously. “Am I coming along to all of your ‘errands’ now?” he asks, using her extremely useless excuse for why she disappears for hours at a time. Her mouth opens and then closes. She abruptly starts redoing the tie on her left boot. “If you want to,” she says, more to the floor than to Sebastian. “Only if you want me to,” Sebastian says. He’s only playing with her because he feels like he already knows the answer he will receive. She slowly knots the tie on her boot. The wind plays with the ends of her hair that has fallen out of the bun on the back of her head, another utilitarian choice. “I do,” she says, looking up with hopeful eyes that Sebastian has still yet to say no to. “Then I shall,” Sebastian says, earning a smile from Elsie. He gets up and peers down at the poachers who were sitting below them, still completely oblivious to their presence.
He pulls the disillusionment charm over himself. “Now, shall we?”
***
Sebastian swore to be better. It is because of that oath that he casts levioso instead of crucio to distract one poacher while he deals with the other one with confringo. But he forgets that levioso only lasts so long on a human, and the lightning that strikes him burns away all the air in his lungs and forces him to his knees. His wand flies out of his hand before he can think straight, and he turns over on the ground to see a sneering poacher approach him. Sebastian looks around as he tries to call his wand to him, scrabbling backwards in an attempt to get to his feet.
There’s immense relief when it finally flies back into his hand, but it is a second too late, because when Sebastian turns back to the poacher there’s a green light shooting straight at him. A red blaze soars over Sebastian’s head, colliding with the fire in an explosion so bright that Sebastian’s irises burn as he gets hauled up by the arm. “Up!” Elsie hisses in his ear and Sebastian obeys, planting the soles of his feet into the ground as he envelopes them in protego.
Elsie casts again, this time with that strange ancient blue magic she can wordlessly wield and the poacher that nearly got Sebastian vaporises into nothing. “Was that-” Elsie nods. “An unforgivable, yes.” Sebastian scans the grounds around them for any other enemies and is glad for once that the fight is over. “I haven’t seen that green light in a long while,” Sebastian says, and Elsie sheathes her wand.
Sebastian watches her trawl the area with swift efficiency, opening locked doors and checking the pockets of the dead bodies around them. She looks up from one dead poacher. “You haven’t been practising with them?” Her eyes are unreadable as he shakes his head. “I promised Ominis. It’s either our friendship or the dark curses, and we know the right answer.” Elsie’s eyebrows furrow as she stands. “You will find that these guys will try use it on you, so you will have to be on your guard.” She disappears into the barn to pick up the caged runaway niffler they found earlier, and he hears the tell-tale swoosh of the niffler being absorbed into the nab-sack.
Sebastian stretches. He can feel the ache in his back where the lightning struck him, and Sebastian suspects it will bruise. Elsie comes back to him, opening her mokeskin pouch to rummage in. She pulls out a wiggenweld potion for him, and Sebastian downs it, wincing as the sour liquid passes through him. Elsie tilts her head at the castle exit, and Sebastian nods.
They walk instead of flying or apparating, listening to the freshly fallen autumn leaves crunch beneath their feet. “You know I agree with you,” Elsie says suddenly. “The dark arts are simply tools, if used for the right reasons.” Sebastian shoves his hands into his pockets, fingers sliding along his wand in his left pocket. “I don’t think I can do that,” Sebastian says, silently cursing the small quiver in his voice. “Oh,” Elsie says. There’s a light touch to the back of his elbow, and Sebastian looks at her. She’s smiling, and the tightness in Sebastian’s chest eases a little bit.
“That’s alright,” she says. “We’ve always won a duel without them.” Sebastian smiles back. “That we do.”
***
“Must we do this,” Sebastian says as Elsie drags him towards Gladrags. He surreptitiously leans his weight into his heels, forcing Elsie to grab his forearm with both hands as she keeps pulling. “I told you that we’re going to need to get you more sensible clothing,” she says. “What do you have against going to the tailors?” Sebastian scowls as the entrance of Gladrags loom closer. “It’s just such a pain,” Sebastian says, not wanting to admit that he simply dislikes Augustus Hill specifically. The ratty man loved to try sell any piece of clothing even if it looked like it belongs to a 15th century clown, and as a tailor he was even worse, insisting on measuring every single precise inch of the body instead of just having a transfiguration charm work for him. The only times he ever went into that forsaken shop was because Anne wanted to go in.
They inevitably reach the door, and the voice of Mr Hill rings out. “Miss Fernsby, welcome back!” Augustus Hill rests his hands on his counter. “Are we buying or selling today?” Elsie grins as she shoves Sebastian forward. Sebastian steps up, sighing. “We are buying my friend here some new clothes,” Elsie says brightly. “Ah, Mr Sallow that helped you fight that troll last year! Haven’t had you in here in a while,” Mr Hill says.
“Good afternoon, Mr Hill,” Sebastian says politely, allowing him to usher him and Elsie to a backroom that he didn’t even know existed in the shop. Sebastian takes in luxuriously gilded and furnished room in confusion. “We can use the private fitting room today, my usual courtesy for you bringing me such marvellous things to sell,” Mr Hill says to Elsie, and she beams at him. “Thanks, Mr Hill. I was thinking something practical, similar to what you had for me last time.” She drops down onto the armchair opposite the large fitting mirror, obviously amused at Sebastian’s baffled expression.
Mr Hill walks around Sebastian in a predatory circle, humming. “Yes, yes, I will have to take his measurements first… please, everything off except your shirt and pants,” Mr Hill commands, pushing Sebastian behind the changing screen tucked in the corner. He pulls off his cloak and kicks off his shoes. He yanks off his tie, hooking it onto the hinge of the changing screen before unbuttoning his vest and hanging it up as well. He steps back out, right in front of the mirror, and he stares at his reflection, flexing his socked feet against the oiled wood floor. Mr Hill clucks. “Ah, I meant your undershirt, not your top.”
“What?” Sebastian says, taken aback. “You are wearing an undershirt, no?” Mr Hill raises an eyebrow as he twiddles the ends of his moustache. “Uh,” Sebastian hopes Mr Hill didn’t make the women undress as much as he did the men, if Elsie came here often. “An undervest.” Mr Hill blinks. “I didn’t take you for a farmer’s son, Mr Sallow.” Sebastian resists the scowl that was dying to come to the surface. “I lived with my uncle at Feldcroft. Helped in the fields.” Mr Hill twiddles his moustache again. “Ah, Feldcroft, I see, I see. Not much money there, isn’t it? Regardless, please, shirt off. An undervest will be fine, I will make allowances in the underarm area for when you finally purchase yourself some nicer underclothes.”
Sebastian starts unbuttoning his shirt, biting his tongue to ignore the casual jibe at his financial status. He’s heard it plenty from other students anyway. He’s shrugging it off when he finds Elsie in the mirror’s reflection. She was watching him. Her eyes were wandering, and Sebastian doesn’t know what to make of it. She does a double take when she realises Sebastian was looking at her through the mirror. She ducks her head, and Sebastian quickly averts his eyes and locks his gaze in the center of his own chest in the mirror.
Sebastian did not ever expect to be only in his underclothes and trousers in front of a girl today. Mr Hill was humming, unawares to the suddenly awkward atmosphere in the room as Sebastian lets him move him around like a mannequin. Sebastian tells himself that he is technically fully dressed, even if his arms and shoulders are exposed. It’s less than what he would even wear for even pyjamas. Sebastian closes his eyes and hopes that deliverance comes sooner rather than later.
There isn’t a god. Or Merlin, for that matter, because Sebastian descends further into hell when Mr Hill abruptly spins him around so that he faces Elsie instead of the mirror. Sebastian opens his eyes, and heat creeps up the back of his neck when he catches Elsie looking again.
Sebastian has never been a self-conscious or nervous person. He was the confidence to his twin’s wariness, the charm to her blunt nature. He’s not a bad face, his hair behaves on most days, and Hogwarts’ long hallways and endless staircases has kept him fit enough to keep up with the farm work in Feldcroft. Sebastian has charmed plenty of people successfully to add to his ego, and he has made enough friends to know that he’s likable enough.
But he’s also never been right in front of a girl while he was in his underclothes. With trousers on, he reminds himself as he directs his vision to the ceiling. “How old are you now, Mr Sallow?” Mr Hill inquires. Sebastian clears his throat. “Seventeen this year, sir,” Sebastian says, wondering if perhaps vengeance for being put into this position will be preferable to this sudden awkwardness. “Hm yes, that farm work you’ve been doing has broadened your shoulders considerably, but I will need to add some leeway in case you grow again, which is likely,” Mr Hill mutters, and Sebastian jolts when Mr Hill grabs his bicep, squeezing, before swiftly wrapping a measuring tap around his arm. “My notes here from, goodness, was the last time you came here two years ago?”
Sebastian makes his decision as she looks up at Mr Hill’s question and he raises an eyebrow at her as he replies to Mr Hill, not really thinking about his words. “Yes sir, just before my sister fell ill. She wanted to buy me a new shirt as a birthday present.” To her credit, Elsie doesn’t back down, keeping up their staring contest. Mr Hill hums again. “I see, yes, almost done, just need to take a couple more measurements…”
Sebastian jerks his chin at her, and Elsie tilts her head in question.
I can see you staring, Sebastian mouths to her, and Elsie goes entirely red, as she slaps a hand over her mouth in shock. Sebastian can’t hide his smirk as Elsie suddenly stands.
“I might go browse the racks and come back when you’ve found some pieces for Sebastian, sir,” she says, already halfway out the door. Mr Hill doesn’t even get to reply before the door slams shut behind her. Sebastian has to bite his tongue to stop himself from laughing.
***
Sebastian leaves Gladrags with a stack of clothing that somehow, was for free. Elsie had pulled out piece after piece of clothing that she had ‘found’, and it paid entirely for Sebastian’s new clothes.
But she hasn’t looked him in the eye since the fitting room, and Sebastian watches her from the corner of his eyes as they walk back to the castle. “Are you-“ Elsie startles at the sound of his voice. “Are you alright?” Sebastian says, amused. “I’m fine,” she says, her voice an entire pitch too high. “Are you sure?” Sebastian asks, and she nods jerkily. “You’re very on edge,” Sebastian says, curving around her to stand in front of her. Elsie huffs at him with annoyance. She steps forward, and Sebastian takes a step back. She huffs again, walking forward and Sebastian matches her pace, walking backwards.
“Come on,” Sebastian says, raising an eyebrow. “Are you angry at me?” She glares at him. “You know what you did,” she says.
“I do not,” Sebastian says, hand on heart. “I’m an innocent man who was stripped close to naked by a perverted tailor, and now I’m being accused of crimes I do not even know of!” Elsie steps around him, marching off and Sebastian chases after her. “Els!” He jogs up to catch her, pulling her back by the elbow. She shoves at him and Sebastian stumbles back, hands up in the air. “Look, I apologise. I’m sorry for teasing you!” Sebastian looks over her shoulder, where students were watching them as they walked by, whispering among themselves. Sebastian keeps his hands up, but steps closer.
“People are watching,” he murmurs, giving her his best puppy-eyes. “Accept my apology?” Elsie glowers at him.
“Please? Els?” he says, and her eyes finally soften, even as she keeps her face stern. “Very well,” she says, and Sebastian grins.
“Thank you for the clothes,” he adds quickly, to sweeten his apology. She spins back round to continue back to the castle, and as she tucks her fringe back behind her ears, Sebastian spies a hint of a smile on her lips.