Chapter Text
London is both exactly what Sebastian expected, and not at all. Elsie and Ominis have spoken enough of their home city for Sebastian to expect the grey. Grey walls, grey pavement, grey roads, grey skies. What Sebastian does not expect is the noise. There is no such thing as silence in London. It is relentless. The honk of an omnibus as it speeds past them on the pavement, the ringing bell of a tram across the street, the clopping of hooves as horse carriages roll by, their wheels creaking as it bounces across the cobblestone roads, and the chatter of the thousands of people on the streets.
He lets Ominis and Elsie lead him away from King’s Cross through the maze of unfamiliar streets, and he makes sure to stick close to their backs, afraid of losing them through the crowds. Ominis has a walking stick that conceals his wand, and he uses it almost like a broom, sweeping it left and right in front of him as he moves forward. It makes him slower though, and Sebastian stumbles into Elsie in his attempt to not step on Ominis’ heels. She seems to sense his unease as she looks back at him, and even though she told him that they will not be able to hold hands in polite Muggle society, she slips a hand into his, squeezing twice. She tucks their joined hands out of sight, just beneath her cape, and Sebastian just follows, focusing on the warmth of her hand in his and not the tightness in his chest.
Diagon Alley is busy, but not much more than Hogsmeade. It makes it feel like more familiar territory, and as the brick archway of its entrance collapses back into a wall behind their backs, sealing the Muggle world away, Sebastian finally breathes a bit easier. “Feeling alright?” Elsie asks, and Sebastian exhales slowly. “It was a bit… mad out there,” Sebastian admits, and Ominis chuckles. “London is the biggest city in the world,” Ominis says. “The entire population of Hogwarts and its surrounding region could fit into one small street in London.” Sebastian doesn’t know if he likes knowing that.
The room Sebastian and Ominis manages to rent in the Leaky Cauldron is nicer than expected, considering the rather rundown look of the actual pub downstairs. There is a small dining table, armchairs by the fireplace and the two beds opposite the fireplace are big enough to sleep four. Ominis goes back down to the bar to order dinner for him and Sebastian, leaving Elsie and Sebastian in the room. Sebastian takes the chance to use the bathroom. The tap water is lukewarm at best, not the cold water he was looking for, but it is enough. Sebastian splashes some water on his face, and when he dries his face on the towel, he lets himself take a moment. He did not expect to be so unsettled by London and its overfilled cup, brimming at the rim with an endless sea of people and loud noises.
He cannot remember if Edinburgh was like this and when he tries, all he sees is his mother’s smile as she picks a book off the library shelf for him. Perhaps he would know if she was still alive. Mother would tell him to embrace the chaos. Father would laugh and tell him to take his time with it. The grief of his parents’ deaths is a small ball that Sebastian occasionally takes out to play with, and when it bounces off the walls of his heart and back into his hands, it barely stings, cushioned by the happy memories of them. He is grateful to at least have that.
Elsie was standing by the window when Sebastian steps out of the bathroom. She takes one last look out of the window, before pulling the curtains over the exposed glass. “I should go home soon, before it gets too dark,” Elsie says and Sebastian nods, stepping closer. She smiles as she curls fingers into the sides of his coat, tugging him forward as she tips her head back. Sebastian sighs into the kiss, letting her twist the frayed ends of his nerves back together.
“What is wrong?” Elsie asks and Sebastian shrugs. “I am not sure I like London,” Sebastian says. “You are not used to it, that is all,” she soothes, her eyes lit with amusement. “And you saw nothing of it since we came straight here. I promise tomorrow it will be better.”
Sebastian is not so sure, but he’d rather be here with her and Ominis than alone in Feldcroft anyway.
***
“Good morning!” Elsie takes no care with the door, letting it slam on its hinges. Sebastian pushes himself up on his elbows blearily, and Elsie grins at him as she closes the door behind her. “Merlin help us,” Ominis groans, yanking his duvet over his head. “What time is it?” Elsie shrugs. “It’s seven in the morning,” she says. Ominis makes a guttural noise, and he turns over underneath the duvet with no intent of getting up. Sebastian falls back onto his pillows, sighing. The mattress beneath him sinks further as Elsie comes to his bedside, leaning over him. “Good morning,” she whispers this time, and Sebastian chuckles. “Why are you here so early?” he asks.
“My family starts mornings early, Mum is usually up by five to make it to the estate by six, and Dad leaves the house at six,” she says. Sebastian hums. “I suppose you have morning plans for us?” She looks over at Ominis. “I did, but Ominis looks like he’s going to be in bed for a while longer,” she says with a smile. Sebastian looks up at her, and then he reaches his arms out like an infant. She raises an eyebrow at him. She waves a hand at her skirt.
“There’s no chance I’m getting on a bed in this,” she says and Sebastian drops his arms, disappointed. “Don’t sulk,” she laughs quietly, taking his hand and pulling him up and out of bed. “You will not believe how inconvenient ankle length skirts are,” she informs him.
“I think I can, after your hour-long rant on the discretions against women in Victorian society,” Sebastian says in amusement as he stands. Elsie and Ominis spent a whole two hours on the Hogwarts Express explaining Victorian society to Sebastian. Solomon had kept him and Anne cloistered firmly in Feldcroft and then Hogwarts, so Sebastian had no real concept of how Muggle society functioned socially. “Don’t get me started again,” Elsie says as she stands in front of him, and she touches his cheek with a light hand. “And if you don’t shave today, the Victorian men will shun you too,” she teases and Sebastian rubs at his chin, feeling the stubble that has revealed itself on his face overnight. “Already?” he asks.
“Aren’t boys used to this kind of thing?” she says as Sebastian goes to the bathroom. She leans against the doorframe as Sebastian looks into the mirror above the sink. He did need to shave. “Yes, but it is an annoyance that I try to do as little as possible,” Sebastian says as he digs through the washbag he brought and she laughs. “I used to help my father for fun when I was younger,” Elsie says. “It doesn’t seem so bad.”
“Because you only did it sometimes,” Sebastian says, his last words before he applies the shaving cream. Elsie watches him through the mirror, and Sebastian finds himself distracted by the softness in her eyes as he shaves. Her eyes find his. “You’ll cut yourself with that razor,” Elsie says with a smile and Sebastian rolls his eyes as he slips the blade down his cheeks. He focuses himself when he has to do the underside of his jaw. It is the trickiest part, having to balance how much he can tilt his chin up to see where he has to shave without losing sight of the mirror. He sighs in frustration, adjusting his head again to try see the hairs.
The floor creaks behind him, and he looks down to see Elsie coming around to face him. “Here,” she says, biting down on her bottom lip as she smiles. “I know this is the hardest part,” she says. She uses a single finger to tip his chin up, forcing him to look up at the ceiling as her fingers steal the razor out of his hand. “I remember when I saw your beard for the first time when you took me camping for my birthday,” Elsie muses as she begins to slink the razor along his skin. Sebastian huffs. It was just two-day old stubble because Sebastian had forgotten to pack his razor.
“I know being clean-shaven is about being fashionable and neat,” Elsie says wryly. “But I think it’s a necessity to guard against certain hazards.” Sebastian can’t laugh, so he just snorts gently. “The rash around my lips burned for ages,” she says with disdain, and Sebastian feels the blade press a little too firmly into his skin. “Thank goodness powder covered the redness.” He remembers. Elsie had banned any manner of kissing for a week to let her skin recover.
The tap switches on, and the razor clinks against the sink as Elsie rinses and dries the blade off. The finger that was holding his chin up runs down his adam’s apple, and then swipes left and right across his jaw, feeling for any stray hairs. “All done,” she says and Sebastian drops his chin. He wipes his face down with the cloth he dampened earlier, and then feels his now-bare skin for himself. “Thank you,” he tells her as she keeps the razor back into his wash bag. She turns to him and lifts herself onto the tip of her toes with smug smile. “Ah, so it wasn’t a free service,” Sebastian says, lips curling upward.
“How self-serving of me,” she says, and then she kisses him.
***
Ominis is still in bed when Sebastian leaves the shower, and Elsie gets up from the armchair she was waiting in. “He said to let him sleep in, so I guess it will be just the two of us today,” Elsie says with a shrug. Sebastian nods, and they lock the door behind them quietly.
Elsie gives him a short tour of London; the palace, “apparently the queen hasn’t lived there since her husband died twenty something years ago,” the famous Clock Tower, the Convent Garden markets, where Sebastian picks up a small trinket for Anne, and then finally the British Museum.
“I want to show you something,” Elsie says as he follows her into the massive white stone building. She takes him through tall wooden doors, and as they squeeze past other visitors, stepping into the room, Sebastian sees why Elsie wanted to bring him here. It was a gallery three-hundred feet long with ceilings so tall that Sebastian had to tip his head back fully to see the plastered ceilings. Both sides of the gallery had bookshelves that rose up from the dark wood flooring to the start of the second-floor balconies which then had more bookshelves running along the walls. There wasn’t a single exposed wall, the only book-less spaces that were not bookshelves were ceiling-high windows to let light into the seemingly endless gallery of books.
“It’s called the King’s Library,” Elsie says, eyes brightening when she realises that he is as pleased as she hoped. Sebastian is immediately drawn to the first bookcase, and he runs his fingers along the fine leather bindings. “There’s almost two hundred thousand books in here,” she says, following Sebastian as he reads some of the titles. There were a lot of history books, and some on theology, which is a subject that does not really exist in wizarding libraries. “I wonder how the history books will differ from ours,” Sebastian whispers to Elsie. They step around a ladder, moving to the next bookshelf. “Probably quite a bit,” Elsie says with a wry smile. “You can’t take a book out here, but we could try find you one at the shops.” Sebastian shakes his head. He doesn’t really need Muggle books, though he can still appreciate the majesty of this library.
Sebastian pauses over a particularly ornate spine that had no title, and he pulls it out. “The Bible,” Sebastian reads and Elsie grimaces in sour humour. “Looked at that one a bit too many times for my liking,” she says and Sebastian huffs, slotting it back into place. “Do you believe in a God?” Sebastian asks jokingly and Elsie looks around them before replying quietly.
“Somewhat.” It is a serious answer that surprises Sebastian, but he supposes he’s never asked. He doesn’t press, but she offers more. “I find myself sceptical,” she says. “Easier to believe in magic,” she says, smiling and Sebastian shrugs. “Many a woman got burned at the stake for a statement like that,” he teases. She winks at him, and Sebastian bursts into laughter. Elsie shushes him even though she is laughing herself, glancing back at the chagrined looks they were receiving from the other guests in the library.
Later in the afternoon, Elsie has them sat on the steps of one of many theatre buildings in an area she says is called Piccadilly Circus, eating hot pasties with their hands. Sebastian watches at Elsie, who was sat next to him, but one step lower. She was watching the world go by as she nibbles on the final bit of crust she had left of her pastry. She said this place was her favourite place to just sit and enjoy London.
The theatres and plays are not on till it is night, so there is little music and fanfare apart from the mummer on the opposite end of the circus from them yanking on his violin. There are still hundreds of people that rush by every minute. But the crowds scare Sebastian less today, and he thinks he can understand what Elsie means when she says London is cosy in its own way. Sebastian finishes the last bite of his pasty and dusts his fingers off.
He bends down to take the bottle of ginger beer they were sharing from where it was set down by near his feet and she glances at him. Her gaze flickers over him as Sebastian takes a swig of the sweet fizzy drink. He offers her the bottle, and she takes it, turning away slightly to tip the bottle up to have some. Sebastian wonders again if she misses London at all now that she’s spent a good part of two years in Hogwarts. So, he asks her. She shrugs, holding the bottle in her lap as she thinks about it. She looks back out over the circus again.
“I suppose, a little. Like I said before, I miss the busyness of it all,” she says. “To be honest, London is big and full of people, but you don’t really know anyone or make friends outside of work or your neighbours, so it can get lonely here too.” She takes another sip of the ginger beer. “I didn’t go to school, and I hadn’t started working yet, so I didn’t really have friends. But at Hogwarts, I’ve made friends,” she says, turning back to face Sebastian. Sebastian raises an eyebrow at her, and she smiles, tapping his knee gently with the bottom of the ginger beer bottle.
“The people make the place, I guess, is my best answer. I think I would miss London more if I didn’t have you.” She says it so casually that Sebastian almost misses it. But he doesn’t, and he surreptitiously runs his fingers over the back of her hand, pretending to miss the bottle before taking it from her again. Her smile grows a bit wider.
***
Elsie was taking them somewhere. “We’re almost there,” Elsie says as they keep walking. Her smile is just barely visible in the dark streets despite the streetlamps above them, and Sebastian wishes he could take his wand out to cast lumos. As they turn a corner, Ominis’ head tilts. “Do I hear music?” Just a few steps ahead, there is a three-storey timber house with people milling out and in. They draw nearer and then Sebastian hears the music Ominis was speaking of. “This is one of the local public houses that my dad would take me to sometimes, because it’s one of the few that let girls and women in, just to have a little bit of fun,” Elsie says. Elsie leads them through the hallways to one of the rooms, immediately heading straight for the bar.
They find a space to stand at the free end of the bar. “You two won’t mind a bit of drink, would you? It’ll be stronger than butterbeer though,” Elsie asks. “Never had anything stronger than butterbeer,” Sebastian says. Elsie beams. “London is a bit more lawless than Hogsmeade,” she says. “I had my first strong drink at fourteen.” Sebastian raises an eyebrow.
“Is that even safe?” he asks and Ominis chuckles. “When was safety ever a concern for you?” Ominis says and Sebastian looks at him suspiciously. “When did you stop caring about safety?” Sebastian asks. “We’re in London, Sebastian, loosen up,” Ominis says and Sebastian gapes at him. “Who are you, and what have you done with Ominis?” Sebastian laughs and Elsie laughs with him. “Come on, country boy, let us Londoners sort you out wit-”
“Elsie Fernsby!” The three of them jump at the booming voice. A bartender was striding towards them behind the bar with an astonished look on his face. “William Turner?” Elsie says and the bartender grins. “The only one. What are you doing here?” he asks. Elsie cocks her head at him. “Shouldn’t I be asking you that? You were supposed to be in school to be an accountant,” she says. William glances at Sebastian, and then Ominis.
“I was, but decided trying to work with the toffs wasn’t for me, ya know?” William says and Elsie huffs in amusement. “Bartending is getting more reputable as a job anyway, and I make just as much money,” William says. “That’s good,” Elsie says doubtfully. “You going to tell me what a girl like you is doing with two random men on a Sunday night?” William says. He looks at Sebastian again. The look in his eyes strikes Sebastian as strange. Elsie seems to sense it too, and she clears her throat.
Elsie taps Sebastian on the elbow. “This is Sebastian, and this is Ominis,” she says, waving at Ominis. “Pleased to meet you,” Ominis and Sebastian say at the same time and William hums. “Funny name, that, Ominis,” he says, and Ominis gives him a thin smile. “To some, maybe,” Ominis says. William shrugs. “You lot thirsty? What can I get you?”
Sebastian realises he doesn’t really know what Muggles drank. “I’ll have a gin, if you have some,” Ominis says smoothly and William nods, turning around to grab the bottle and a glass with ice. He pours out the clear white liquid deftly, sliding it across the bar into Ominis’ hand. He looks at Sebastian, cocking an eyebrow. “And you, good sir?” William asks.
Sebastian looks at Elsie. “What do you think, Els?” he asks, hoping she catches a hint. She frowns at him and Sebastian shifts his weight, knocking his free foot into her ankle gently. “Els?” William asks and Elsie doesn’t pay him mind. She laughs mindlessly, looking at Sebastian and flicking her eyes at William. Sebastian leans down to whisper in her ear, making sure to face away from William. “I don’t know what to get,” Sebastian whispers and he feels Elsie stiffen in realisation. Sebastian makes sure to smile casually at William when he straightens up. “It’s just something I call her,” Sebastian says and William’s lips purse slightly. “Right,” William says. “The two of us will just have a beer,” Elsie says and William starts pouring the drinks for them.
Elsie gives Sebastian an apologetic smile. Sebastian rolls his eyes at her, and she covers her smile with the back of her hand. She tugs on his sleeve and he bends down in the direction of her tug. “Sorry, I forgot that you might not know what to get,” Elsie whispers, her breath tickling the edge of his ear. “It’s alright,” Sebastian says quietly, and she gives him another smile.
There’s a loud clunk on the bar and they both look back up. There were two pints in front of them. “I thought the Scots drank whiskey,” William says, looking at Sebastian. “Sorry?” Sebastian says and William waves up and down at him with a hand. “Scottish, right? My grandfather was Scottish, your accent is not as strong as his but I’d recognise it anywhere,” he says.
“I am,” Sebastian says. “Where were you from in Scotland?” William asks and Sebastian’s not sure what would be the right answer. “Born in Edinburgh,” Sebastian says. William claps his hands, shaking his head. “Damn, was hoping you’d say Glasgow, that’s where my papa was from.” Sebastian shrugs with a wane smile, glad for it.
“So, do I get to call you Els, Els?” William says. Elsie freezes mid-sip, frowning at him. Sebastian raises an eyebrow at William, who stares right back. A smirk was lining his lips and Sebastian suddenly realises why the look in his eyes were so strange at first glance. He was trying to understand who Sebastian and Ominis were to Elsie. Elsie puts her glass down gently.
“Call me Elsie, William,” she says kindly. William’s smirk falls. Ominis snorts into his glass audibly. “Sorry, just choked on my drink a bit,” Ominis says, scratching the side of his head. Sebastian takes a sip of his beer to hide his own smug smile, trying not to wince at the taste of it. There’s a bit of silence, and Elsie takes a step back from the bar, ready to go to find a table when William speaks again.
“Haven’t seen you around in a while, Elsie,” he tries. Elsie hesitates, and when she decides to entertain his chat, Sebastian turns to Ominis. Ominis raises his glass at Sebastian. Sebastian clinks their glasses together.
“Interesting,” Ominis says, hinting at the obvious and Sebastian huffs. “Very,” Sebastian agrees. Ominis snorts, tapping his walking stick once on the floor. “Does he look as dry as he sounds?” Ominis says drily and Sebastian laughs. “Possibly,” he says, and Ominis chuckles.
“Excuse me, mate, just trying to get to the bar,” someone says into Sebastian’s ear, shoving themselves between Sebastian and Elsie. Sebastian steps forward to give the man space, guiding Ominis backwards with a hand on his shoulder. “How’s the beer?” Ominis asks and Sebastian takes another sip. “Nothing like butterbeer,” Sebastian says and Ominis shakes his head. “She’s done you in there, could have gotten you something a little less vile,” he says and Sebastian frowns at the dark yellow liquid.
“And your gin? Whatever that is,” Sebastian says and Ominis shrugs. “Aunt Noctua used to have it all the time and she’d give me a sip,” Ominis says. “It tastes vaguely like something and nothing at all.” Sebastian shakes his head. “Solomon used to have Fireball Whiskey. Do you remember?” Ominis shudders. “Oh yes, he would reek with the smell of it at night,” Ominis says, sighing.
Anne hated it. They never understood what the smell was on their uncle’s breath when they first moved in with him. It would only ever be in the evening when they would come in for dinner after playing in the fields or caves in Feldcroft. One day, Anne suggested that they make themselves useful to their uncle, who had so kindly taken them in, and they set about cleaning the cottage for him while he was out working the field. The bottles were stashed between the bookshelves beside the dining table.
He never behaved any different sober or drunk, though Sebastian discovered later in the medical books that you can be an alcoholic and not show any signs of malfunction. Sebastian still wonders if his irascibility was the only symptom he ever showed, or if that was just Solomon in general. A hand taps Sebastian out of his thoughts. “Don’t think about it,” Ominis says gently, and Sebastian swallows down more of the bitter beer in his hands.
“You’re right,” Sebastian says, as he hears Elsie force a laugh behind him. “Why?” Elsie asks, and Sebastian turns his head to listen in. “Leave her be, Ciaran,” William says. “Take your drink and go.”
“I just asked a question, Will, a man can speak to a lady he has never met before, surely?”
“If he is a gentleman, yes, but I know you.”
“Hm,” Ominis says, also hearing what Sebastian was hearing. “Not sure this is what Elsie signed up for tonight.” Sebastian makes to turn, and Ominis shoves his walking stick across him. “He’s just a drunk, Sebastian. Elsie can handle herself. I rather not get into a pub fight.” Sebastian rolls his eyes, but he waits, pushing Ominis’ stick back down.
“I just asked a question, Willie.”
“Oh, and you’re drunk too, if you’re calling me that.”
“I’m going to go,” Elsie says to William, and Ciaran tuts. “Ach, no, I just wanted to know, are you with anyone tonight?”
“And I asked you why you want to know, but you aren’t giving me an answer either,” Elsie says. “A beautiful lady shouldn’t be left alone,” Ciaran says, voice sly. “And if I am with someone tonight?” Elsie asks with a knowing tone. Sebastian smiles into his drink.
“I don’t think I believe you.”
“Don’t touch me, please,“ Elsie snaps, her mood turning dark in an instant. Sebastian’s smile drops. He turns around before Ominis can stop him, and he has no remorse when he smacks his pint glass into the man’s elbow entirely by accident. He didn’t realise how close the man was to them.
“Can I help you?” Sebastian asks, failing to mask his irritation. Ciaran glares at him, and then looks down at himself, where Sebastian has caused him to spill his drink down his shirt. William grabs a cloth and tosses it at Ciaran. “Sorry about that,” Sebastian says blithely.
Elsie slides away from the bar, stepping behind Sebastian. “Come on, Ominis,” Elsie says and there’s a tug on the back of Sebastian’s shirt. “Sebastian.” Sebastian raises a brow at Ciaran as he backs away. Five steps back and the crowd eventually swallows the three of them, hiding them from the bar. When Sebastian turns around to look at Elsie, she rolls her eyes at him with a smile.
“Poor man,” Ominis says when they find a table. “You might have ruined his night.” Elsie laughs. “Oh, he had no chance,” she says.
“I think he was quite convinced that he did,” Sebastian says and Elsie rolls her eyes, smiling. “He was a horrible flirt, and I mean literally horrible,” she says, as she knocks her glass against Sebastian’s and Ominis’ glasses. They all take a drink.
“I don’t know, I’d say you were leading him on,” Ominis says with a mischievous smile and Elsie’s mouth drops open. “I was not!” Elsie says and Ominis nudges Sebastian. “What do you think?” Sebastian clicks his tongue, giving Elsie a disappointed look. “I was starting to get a bit jealous,” Sebastian says, trying his best to sound as sad as possible and Elsie gasps in mock horror. “Stop!” she says, laughing as she spins her glass around on the table.
Sebastian traces the curve of her smile with his eyes and counts the tiny crinkles in the corner of her eyes that glow bright with mirth. “I don’t blame him though. You are beautiful,” Sebastian says boldly, leaning back in his chair and smirking. Ominis laughs as he shakes his head. “No comment,” Ominis says. Elsie rolls her eyes.
“The alcohol is talking now,” she says, her smile still lingering on her lips. Sebastian shrugs. “They say a drunk man’s words are a sober man’s thoughts,” he says. “But you can’t possibly be drunk from just one drink,” Elsie says.
“I must be thinking out loud then,” Sebastian says. Elsie sputters, her cheeks flushing as she takes another drink instead of answering.
“Too smooth, Sallow,” Ominis says, chuckling and Sebastian grins. “What can I say.”
***
Dear Anne,
I am in London with Ominis and Elsie. I meant to write to you before we left Hogwarts for the summer, but we were busy trying to fit all our plans together. I felt there was no point being in Feldcroft if you weren’t there, and Ominis wasn’t keen on the cottage either. He and I are staying at a pub in the famous Diagon Alley. As you can imagine, he definitely has not told his family that he is back in London, if not they will probably expect him to stay in their London home with them while he is here.
Anyway, our summer plans are as such: Ominis and I will stay in London together for about two weeks, after which he will be visiting Poppy at her gran’s house back in Scotland for another two weeks. I will stay here if Elsie manages to persuade her parents will let me room with them. If not, I will go with Ominis since I will not be able to afford renting the room at the pub without Ominis. In the last two weeks of August, we will all be camping along the northern Highland coast of Scotland. Elsie has been dying to go camping and Poppy has apparently always spent her summers camping, so the girls did the planning and Ominis and I are just going to follow their plans. It all makes for a hectic summer, moving around like that, but I suppose that is how it is when you don’t really have a home anymore. Feldcroft means nothing to me and Ominis when you’re not there.
I am meeting Elsie’s parents next week. I wish she could meet ours. Is that a stupid thing to wish for?
Love,
Sebastian