Work Text:
"Sebastian. We should talk."
Trudging through the snow, the girl takes a seat next to Sebastian. For all intent and purposes, he should be in Azkaban right now - except he's not, and it's the winter holidays at Hogwarts. They're in the Transfiguration courtyard right now, the castle in a landscape a breathtaking sight. Cold breath visible in the air, she sits silently next to Sallow, thoughts running through her brain. An odd pair, really - quiet, still, thinking Ravenclaw girl, side by side with her companion - brash, forward, charming - the boy from Slytherin. Celeste knows - It's unwise to see him , Ominis says, Trust me, I would know, firsthand .
"You haven't called me my name like that in a while, Celeste."
"I haven't seen you around in weeks," says the girl, dodging his question. "Seb."
"Right."
It's almost uncomfortable, unbearable, as Celeste fiddles with the tips of her blue gloves, and then she feels it - the wind blowing on her neck, icy cold. Her scarf, in the common room, left there after a drunken night spilling her feelings out to Garreth a week or so back.
The two had bonded soon after she came back to Hogwarts, after witnessing Sebastian's uncle being murdered at the hands of his own nephew, Professor Fig being crushed, traces of ancient magic - it was all weighing down on her, and she'd needed someone to talk to. So there they'd been, stolen Fire Whiskey and perhaps a stolen, tipsy kiss while she was at it - she somehow never said a word about anything private, of course, but had told him how she'd felt, pent up frustration and all. But that was over now.
Celeste ponders on this for a moment, guilt rising up - she'd assumed it was all over with Sebastian the second she'd walked to the bench, after he'd suddenly disappeared a couple weeks back - she assumed, of course, jumped to the conclusion that he wanted nothing to do with her. Ominis, of course, tried to convince her he was a lost cause. He did his best, of course - he had sat with her as she'd cried, reasoned with teachers as the term came to an end, supported her through Fig's memorial. Garreth, in his own way, had tried to support her too - Celeste, of course, saw him as a welcome reprise from the events that had unfolded over the year. Now, of course, looking back, she saw - it was a betrayal. She didn't even love Garreth that way. A betrayal of both him and Sebastian.
Celeste's chest tightens, conflict crossing her face as she glances at Sebastian through the side of her vision now, his cheeks and lips painted a shade of rose in the cold.
"Do you want to talk about it?"
Sebastian snaps her away from her thoughts, lips slightly parted, breathing shallow, his hazel eyes filled with a sort of remorse almost, some sort of deep regret and longing - what for, exactly, Celeste will never know. She takes a moment, takes in his words, and then lets herself be the one to break the silence.
"Why didn't you come back? I let you walk free. Ominis and I did everything for you, Sallow. We made so many sacrifices, and you can't even tell me why you left. Why?"
Her voice breaks, as the winter chill breezes past her again, and she feels her neck twitch slightly, unconsciously. Sebastian, of course, just notices, and silently removes his own green and silver scarf to drape it around her neck. Celeste feels her breath hitch in her throat, realizes the hurt in her words, and turns to face Sebastian now - he's facing her too, face riddled with guilt. She wants to throw it back at him, to abandon all her morals, all sense - break free from her usual peacefulness, to slap him across the cheek as he so deserves, to shove him aside and go back to her distraction, to Garreth; and as she looks at Sebastian's face again, Celeste realizes, slowly - she can't. She could never bring herself to hate Sebastian. Not even after everything.
Acquaintance, classmate, duelling partner, bastard, kindred spirit, lover, murderer, ex-boyfriend - and somehow, above all, friend .
Snowflakes dance in the air, the only sound in the courtyard being her and Sebastian breathing, the wind in the distance blowing through, nothing more. He's still silent now, looking back at her - he can't decide how to respond, how not to completely break her heart, or rather his own while he's at it. He can't respond with his usual humour, wit, sarcasm - nothing at all. So they sit, in some dignified, but rather tense silence. The wool of the scarf scratches more and more with each moment as Celeste starts to look away.
"I think if your reason for being alive decided she didn't want to talk to you after you went through hell and back to save her, then that's a reason."
And suddenly, the pieces click together, the realization sets in - he's still, at heart, the orphan boy who would have done anything for his twin sister, but not the same Sebastian Sallow from the start of the year. Celeste can't stop herself anymore. Sebastian looks beyond uncomfortable now - Celeste knows him, knows he's not a crier. But here he is, in front of her, vulnerable, tears falling down his face as he looks back down to his lap, and she knows - he's still got a heart.
So she picks up her dignity, her pride, and sets it aside. She sets aside her grudges, the pain she felt - she'll deal with it later, she tells herself. And she hugs him. She hugs Sebastian, from the side, with as much love as she can muster, from the bottom of her heart, with the love she once felt for him. She still loves him, doesn't she?
Yes, yes she does. She can't deny that one.
"Seb. You're not a bad person. I'm sorry. I know Anne meant the world to you."
Celeste is blunter than usual, sure, but she's trying. That should stand for something.
"But I should've been there for you. I should've thanked you for saving my ass again, when I somehow managed to get myself back into trouble, when I went too far - no, Anne won't even forgive me for this one. What have I done?"
Sebastian sobs into her shoulder, as Celeste just holds him. She holds sixteen year old Sebastian Sallow, only son of the Sallow family. She's holding the young Seb, the little boy sent to live with his uncle after the death of his parents, Feldcroft born and raised. She holds him, every part of him, and she lets him sob. She doesn't try to reply to him, doesn't try to apologize - she hugs him.
He's just a kid. Always has been.
She hadn't quite had the perfect childhood either - so she reasons with herself. She reasons with herself over her judgements of Seb, how he acted, her relationship with him. She lets one of her gloved hands run through his messy brown hair, comforting him. There they were, two broken, imperfect kids - Sebastian Sallow and Celeste Chang. Nobody's son, nobody's daughter.
Celeste lets herself lean into the hug more, burying her face into his shoulder as his sobbing slows.
"Shh, Seb, it's okay, it's okay," she finds herself cooing. "I've got you."
"I know," he sniffles. "I'm not leaving again. Promise. You remember what I told you about promises."
"Mhm," says Celeste into his shoulder, breathing his scent in deeply. How she missed him. "You always keep your word. I trust you."
Sebastian smiles faintly, now calmer, moving his head to rest his chin on Celeste's shoulder. Celeste shuffles, breaking the hug to allow him to lean his head on her shoulder, which he gratefully takes the option of.
"We're not going to be the same as before, are we?" asks Sebastian.
Celeste tilts her head to rest lightly on his slightly. She closes her eyes, pouts her lips a little, lets her face relax.
"No. But that won't change the fact I care about you. Really."
"And I care for you too. You can trust me, Celeste."
"I will, Seb. I will."