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“You have detention with Sharp again?” Sebastian complained, you smirked at the fact that the Slytherin seemed more annoyed with your detentions than his own as you both walked down the corridor to the common room.
“It’s not that bad, I mean, you could get detention with Black.” You winked, letting out a chuckle at Sebastian's full body shudder at the mere thought. The conversation between you two dwindled as you parted ways. After you watched Sebastian enter the common room, you quickly cast the disillusionment charm and crept through the castle.
It didn’t take you long to hear the impatient tapping of a boot against the corridor floor as you turned the corner to see Professor Sharp glaring holes at the troll tapestry. With a sly smile, you simply waited in the corridor entrance as the impatient potions master looked around the hall, his gaze only passing over you once before his boot stopped hitting the floor and he cocked an eyebrow in your direction.
“If you think a poorly cast disillusionment charm would fool me, I highly recommend retaking defense. ” With a huff, you lowered the charm and strode to stand alongside your professor.
“As a matter of fact, I acquired an outstanding defense, sir.” You said teasingly, eyes now shut as you conjured a familiar space behind the tapestry. Professor Sharp only grunted in response, clearly taking in the fact that you were concentrating and thankfully stayed silent until the rumbling of the stone walls signaled that the conjuring of the room of requirement was a success.
The heavy doors solidified behind you once Sharp followed you into the wide space now fully crammed with bookshelves and potion tables. As always, the ever-diligent professor surveyed every cauldron being used before following suit to the atrium. You relished in the warm glow as your foot met the soft grass within the yard.
At Professor Sharp's questioning sweep of the vicinity, you let out a laugh, “I moved all the animals to the other atrium since we’re practicing. You can visit them later.”
You watched as the potions professor's lips twitched in amusement, neither forgetting the last trip to the atrium where Sharp was swarmed by a group of puffskein, with one notably nailing him in the head.
“Remember your spell work,” Sharp stated as he walked a few meters away, wand in hand and back turned. “From now on, I am your enemy.” Before you even had time to drop into the proper dueling stance, the potions master turned, eyes glinting as he cast diffindo.
With a grunt, you barely managed to dodge the slicing spell by dropping to the ground, vision tinting yellow, and with a yell, you were hurtling up into the air. Finally managing to wrestle your wand from its leather holder, you cast Glacius at Sharp's feet.
His control shattered, and you found yourself falling headfirst to the ground before casting arresto momentum to slow your fall. Out of the corner of your eye, a bright ring of fire swirled around Sharp, melting the ice and burning the grass as he stepped free.
The insistent bubbling and tingle of ancient magic demanded to be set free as you countered more and more of Sharp’s spells. The mere thought of unleashing it on your professor made your veins turn to ice.
“Bombarda!” You yell, wand aim squarely at his feet. The impact sent a wave of heat and clods of dirt flying. You blinked profusely to dispel the dust itching your eyes, but your head still snapped to the side as a blue glow emerged from within the fading brown particles.
Before you could blink, the former auror's wand was up and aimed, "Stupefy." Sharp’s spell hit you directly in the chest, sending your body flying backward into the grass.
As you lay winded, the sharp pain in your ribs drowned out the muffled words from the man in front of you. You pushed up on both arms to regain your bearings after being knocked to the ground by the well-aimed spell.
Your jaw locked as you looked up at the extended hand, tongue lying limply in your mouth as you gaped at the tall figure standing before you. A familiar top hat blocked out the sun as the man leaned down.
“No.” You pleaded weakly, summoning your wand in a feat of wandless magic that even made the man before you look surprised.
The figure before you faded in and out of reality as your mind struggled to comprehend the logistics. The sneering face of Victor Rookwood leaned forward, and without a second thought, you reacted, throwing forward your wand with an eerie green spell lighting the end.
To Aesop, it happened within seconds, your wand swiftly shot out from where it went flying into the grass into your hand with accuracy that made even the potions master gasp. In any other scenario, the retired auror would have complemented your ability to distract an opponent.
However, Aesop’s shock wore off into fear as years of training and honed reflexes took charge as your wand lit up with the all-too-familiar green glow of the killing curse. Out of sheer desperation, he grabbed your wrist and twisted, silently apologizing as your face pinched in pain.
“Avada kedavra!” Your voice sounded fearful as the spell shot off toward the cave and impacted the stone. The green dissipated from your wand as quickly as it came, but left the former auror with more questions than answers. However, before he could speak, your leg shot out and kicked his knee hard.
With a grunt of pain, Sharp dropped like a stone, and you wrenched your arm from his grip, now holding Rookwood at wand point as your hand trembled. The man’s touch imprinted around your wrist as he let out a raspy laugh, “You are such a troublemaker.” He growled, wand suddenly in hand as his face contorted into flaming rage.
“You can’t be here!” You yelled desperately, knuckles white as you entered the dueling stance you used the last time you fought him. “I killed you!” The phantom pain of all the spells Rookwood used against you welled up, and you shuddered from the feeling.
“Confringo!” Before Rookwood could speak, you cast the ball of flame in his direction, now hyperaware of the wizard’s every movement as he easily cast up protego that absorbed your spell and pushed him back a step. You exchanged a flurry of spells in rapid succession with the man, the logical part of your brain questioning why he was only using a shield, and disarming spells went unnoticed as fear took over.
“You failed to finish the job,” Rookwood spat, lips curling with malice. “Now I’ll end it for you.” Within a split second, the man was in front of you, wand gone, with his hands reaching up to your face. You jerked backward, lungs freezing as the older wizard’s hands came closer and closer to your throat.
This is how I die?
To your confusion, his hands instead moved swiftly up. Before you could even move further backward, Rookwood already had his index and middle fingers placed against your temples and both thumbs resting under your jaw. His hands felt oddly warm, and you flinched as his face moved closer, now wavering slightly as if underwater.
What the hell is he doing?
The wizard's touch was surprisingly gentle, and your eyes widened in surprise as Rookwood's face faded entirely, his clothing melting away into the familiar green coat and face of Professor Sharp. How was he here? Fear still thrummed through your veins as your tormentor and Sharp flickered and melded into each other, and you pushed against Rookwood's chest to flee.
Onyx eyes peered into yours with determination and worry, and your breath came in sharp gasps as you prepared for Rookwood to kill you, or do something worse. Instead, you felt a light pressure brush up against your clouded thoughts. It moved like a gust of wind, testing the barrier you put off that radiated fear as if it were searching for an entrance.
“Legilimens.” Your fear gave way to confusion at the unfamiliar force as the breathless and faint voice of someone familiar thrummed through your skull. The spell Rookwood cast was unfamiliar, and you braced for pain. The weird pressure in your skull grew, almost as if it sensed your terror and pushed again, harder this time. You could faintly make out someone calling your name and struggled to clear your head.
“Let me in.” The words were uttered softly, almost pleading, and you relented. With gritted teeth, you forced all your fear down, and within an instant, you were swept along into your crowded mind. A dizzying flow of light and sound played against your eyelids, and somehow it felt as if you weren't alone. A near-hysterical sob ripped its way from your throat as you stared at a black abyss, a thin coating of red mist on the floor shifted and transformed into varying macabre statues of Rookwood.
Whatever spell this was, you hoped it didn’t keep you here for eternity. Fear morphed into terror as the menacing and mangled forms of the wizard stalked closer and closer, the disheveled and ripped top hat sat atop a bloody face of the man you feared.
Your blood turned cold as you realized your wand was nowhere to be found, hand desperately grasping at empty air. You staggered backward, now cornered on all sides with no way of keeping the moving forms of the wizard at bay. You could feel yourself losing your grip on reality as the darkness of the abyss pressed further and further around you. Rookwood's mocking laughter made the floor vibrate, and with a jolt of horror, the floor turned into a rolling liquid that began to pull you down. Wherever it be fighting Rookwood or sinking into the floor, you were equally fucked.
As the liquid reached up to your neck, you cast your eyes upward and sensed the faint presence from earlier still attempting to break into the circle of darkness. The cold sensation of muck crowded your nose as you sank under, desperately holding your breath. Seconds became minutes, and you began clawing at your chest as the pain of oxygen deprivation roared.
So this is how I die, trapped in a hell of my own making. Out of your own volition, your wide, scared eyes rolled back as you cast one last desperate plea to the heavens.
Help me.
Those two words were all that were needed as the liquid keeping you trapped bubbled and exploded in a bright flash of light. You coughed harshly, expelling the vile substance from your lungs as you lay exhausted on a soft bed of… grass?
A gust of wind swirled and tousled your hair as the scent of dittany and potion herbs tickled your nose, and you raised your head weakly at the fast-approaching sound of footsteps and rustling of robes. A top hat entered your vision as you regained what little strength you possessed and flailed backward, lungs heaving as the very real form of Rookwood stood in front of you.
The man looked desperate, eyes ringed with red veins as a gloved hand shot forward, aiming to wrap around your throat once more. This can’t be real- your thought ended abruptly as Rookwood took a step backward, gazing at something behind you with a grimace.
“Your mind perceives him as a threat.” You almost sank into the ground out of sheer relief at the breathless voice of Professor Sharp. “Meanwhile, it recognizes me as a protector.” A green cloak brushed against your arm as Sharp moved to stand next to you, easily reaching down and pulling you up by the bicep. “He won’t make any moves forward while I’m here.” Sharp offered, voice gentle as he inspected the beaming sun and gentle movement of the grass as the field rustled. “Where are we exactly, professor?” You ask, body relaxing in the absence of the threat. “I’ve never heard of the spell you used.”
Sharp let out a huff, lips twitching as you looked up at him with curiosity. “I would be scared if you were a fully fledged legilimens before becoming a fifth year.”
“What now?” Sharp’s expression turned thoughtful, “I believe the Muggle term would be something similar to mind control.” What the actual fuck. “However, legilimency is the art of mind magic where it is mainly used to access memories and see within the mindscape of an individual.” You pointed dumbly to the shining sun. “So, you're telling me where in my brain?” Sharp’s nod almost made you kneel over. We’re in my fucking head. This is now the weirdest shit I’ve officially ever done. “Watch your language.” You paled dramatically, head whipping around to look at your professor in the eyes. He wore a smirk, one that faded as the sun slowly set and the field descended into darkness. “It would be wise to leave; you’ve been stuck within the mindscape for longer than I would like.”
His face tightened into an apologetic look as you eyed him further for answers, “Does the spell have any lasting effects?” You said slowly, Sharp opened his mouth and then closed it with a snap, “Well, yes.” He quickly continued as your gaze hardened into a glare, “During the duel, you believed I was Rookwood; your fear made entering your mind much harder to achieve.”
“You may sustain some head pain from having been under a legilimen’s hold for too long, and because I may have torn through your shields.” You let out a sigh as he trailed off, “It could be worse.” Sharp’s look of sudden concern almost swept you off your feet. “Yes, of course, I may be skilled, but your mindscape is scattered; just maintaining this serenity has been incredibly taxing, not just for me.”
You opened your mouth to bombard him with more questions, but a stern look left you silent. “We must get back to the atrium, before your mindscape tears itself to pieces, concentrate on the atrium, and focus on a happy memory.”
You nod, closing your eyes as you lock onto the memory of Sharp’s first interaction with the puffskeins, the warmth of laughter and joy at the sight of him covered in the trilling balls of fur brought a smile to your face. A few seconds turned into minutes until you felt the tingling of pins and needles stabbing into your legs and slowly blinked awake. “Welcome back to the land of the living.” You cracked a smile as the silhouette of Sharp’s face came into view from above. “The headache will hit soon, I’ll brew a potion to counter it.”
“Feel free to use my ingredients.” You muttered as Sharp scoffed, he led the way back into the room of requirement and deposited you on the nearest chair. “Unfortunately, I must keep you awake for the time being.” You groaned and swatted the potions professor's hand away as your eyes creaked open.
Professor Sharp was standing a few feet away at the nearest brewing table, a silent wave of his wand summoned clippings of various plants you had grown in the space, and you watched him get to work igniting the cauldron and preparing the ingredients. “Now, care to explain how you cast an unforgivable?” That question tore the tendrils of sleep, pulling your eyelids down, and you shot up from the chair before you could even respond. Sharp cut you off, leveling you with a hard stare, “If I hear anything about accidentally learning it, I’ll have you expelled.”
You flopped back down in defeat, headache now brewing as you twisted your hands together nervously. Should you tell Sharp? Sebastian could get in trouble, even worse, you could go to Azkaban. The retired auror let out a heavy sigh and set down the spoon he was using to stir the steaming teal liquid, now focusing his attention on you.
“If it has anything to do with Fig-”
“Sebastian.” You blurted out, and Sharp’s expression turned grim. You gulped as he shook his head, “Mr. Sallow taught you an unforgivable?” Well, he actually taught me all the unforgivable’s but he doesn't need to know that. At the exact moment the thought popped into your head, you felt the foreign presence brush up against your mind and swiveled to look at the potions professor directly in the eyes. That apparently was a mistake as Sharp stared back before turning on his heel, heading straight for the exit.
“No, Professor!” You shouted, desperately pushing the intruding headache aside as you took off after the fuming retired auror. Please don’t kill Sebastian, I swear to Merlin. You almost slammed into the back of Professor Sharp as the man halted suddenly. He let out another weary sigh and turned around; the disappointment radiating off him was immeasurable. He flicked his wand and a bottle of teal suddenly hovered in your face, “Drink it before I have another heart attack.” You obeyed his command and downed the tart-tasting liquid, allowing him to vanish the bottle as your headache ebbed and faded entirely.
“Follow me to my office. Tonight has been full of surprises, it seems.” What followed was a harsh scolding down the hallways and a long lecture in his office on the art of mind magic, the use of unforgivables, and dealing with mental trauma.
When you awoke in the Slytherin common room to Sebastian complaining about receiving an owl bearing detention from Sharp, you let out an exhausted chuckle.