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Sebastian Sallow was covered in sweat. On an average day this wouldn’t be an issue, he was used to hard work. His summers spent in Feldcroft working in the fields, and previously being a beater, under Imelda, of all people, was nothing to scoff at. Ordinarily, no one would be the wiser on a simple Thursday, if someone were using the Prefects' bathroom come midnight. But alas, it wasn’t midnight, and he wasn’t slipping into the Prefect’s bathroom. For that matter it wasn’t even Thursday. Here he was, on a Saturday no less, spending his precious time following his favorite witch to yet another precarious ruin.
He watched the wave of her wand and a quick mutter under her breath as the scaffolding was lifted back into place. She swiftly sheathed her wand before scuttering eagerly up the scaffolding, not even taking the time for the repairs to complete.
“Are you sure you don’t want to come up?” She called without turning her head. Her focus solely spent on maintaining her balance on the, still shifting, planks and reaching the stone platform across her.
He watched from his safe post on the ground, leaning his back against the cool stone. “You go ahead. I’ll be fine here for the moment,” he replied. He closed his eyes and tipped his head back, ensuring as much of his skin as possible could relish against the cold stone. He could hear her continue the journey, her careful footsteps ascend above him.
How she managed to convince him to spend their, exceedingly limited, free time trouncing through ruins was beyond him. While he felt himself exceptionally persuasive, able to charm his way out of detentions and into rooms that felt far above someone of his standard, it wasn’t the same for her. There was a natural allure she carried, something magnetic about her. It made it all too easy for people to be drawn to her, and all too hard for others to say no. He wasn’t sure if it was the ancient magic that thrummed under her skin or the mystique that came with escaping a dragon unscathed. Yet, knowing her, it was likely something else entirely.
A sharp gasp from above spun him from his thoughts. He sprung from the stone and cast his eyes upwards, searching for her among the crumbling debris. Sebastian's neck craned, scanning for her as his hand fumbled for his wand, not wanting to tear his eyes away for a moment.
“Everything alright up there?” He called, working to keep his nerves inside him and out of his words.
The silence that followed only worked to worsen his nerves. His eyebrows knit together as the quiet drew on.
He should’ve followed her up, forgone the heat. Now he had no idea where in these complicated ruins she’d ended up. His thoughts spiraling as he stepped towards the scaffolding, set on beginning his own ascent, before a flash caught his eye. He froze as he stared upwards.
The witch's head peaked down at him from two levels above. He braced himself, expecting a pained expression or something even worse. Instead, he was greeted with a downright jubilated one. The biggest smile he’d seen from her spread wide across her features, before her hands reached over the edge. A black strip of fabric dangled over the edge, taunting him.
“Isn’t it wonderful?” She cried down at him, still beaming at her discovery. Not at all concerned at how close she was to following the scaffolding down.
“Lovely.” The strained response and tight smile was all he could manage.
“Would you care to come down now?” He tried, more so for himself than for her, not that he’d ever admit it.
“I suppose it is getting a bit late now,” she called, softer this time, as she looked out from the ruins. The gentle sunlight creating a halo around her hair as she peered down. It was enough to make his breath catch. There was a faint pout to her words that only he could notice. Now that just wouldn’t do.
He cupped his hands to shout back to her, “Tell you what!” Bringing her attention back to him.
“I’ll take us for a butterbeer or two at Sirona’s.” Sebastian called, putting on his best charming smile for her. The same smile that had unlocked plenty a doors in the past.
He could see the glee returning to her face even from two stories away, melting all his previous anxieties away.
“We can even come back here tomorrow to finish exploring,” he surmised, working further to sweeten the deal. Although it seemed he hadn’t needed to, as she was already making her way down. Perhaps that comment was more for himself than her.
The witch rushed even faster down than she had up. He stood watching for glimpses of her as she descended the castle; a flash of hair and her nimble shadow told him she was nearing the scaffolding once more. Right where he wanted her. Sebastian smirked to himself before calling out, “But first you’ll have to race me to the bridge, loser spends the galleons.”
At this point she had reached the scaffolding, but he wasn’t looking as he shot out from the ruins, booking it for the small bridge they’d crossed on the way.
A shriek sounded behind him, as he urged himself forward. His own smile pulled painfully on his cheeks and he spared a glance behind him. She was already gaining on him even with his head start and longer legs, her hair billowing behind her. Just how many escapades had this woman gone on, without him, to garner such endurance?
Sebastian's footsteps pounded the dirt path, surely kicking up clouds of dust behind him. Seeing her face only spurred him onwards as he approached the cobblestone bridge. The witch was still bounding three paces behind him as he touched down first.
He was bending over his knees as he caught his breath, as he watched her shadow loom over him. He chanced a glance up, she seemed hardly as out of breath as he did, clearly the head start was much needed. He silently scorned Black for putting quidditch, and partially his own health, out for the season. Sebastian made a mental note to change that if he wanted to continue these little trips with her.
He finished collecting himself before taking her in. Her simple trousers were scuffed at the knees and her boots looked in need of a good oiling. His eyes continued their way up, taking in her sleeves that reached just past her elbow with her chest still moving with exertion. Her windswept hair held a cobweb or two, a parting gift from her adventure. It was all worth it to see the look on her face up close; he wasn’t sure what to blame for the tightness in his chest.
The sun had just began its descend, making the witch's smile glow even brighter. She swept a hand through her hair, gazing out at the river. The sound of the evening breeze and flowing water filled the silence. He finally noticed the scarf clasped in her other hand.
He tilted his head at the article, “This was the treasure we worked so hard for?” He quipped, reaching a hand out to inspect it further.
She met him halfway, showing him her treasure as proudly as a niffler. “Is it not wonderful?” She said, still beaming at the scarf.
The witch was simply enchanted by the simple scarf. Finally up close, Sebastian could see it was really a dark green, rather than the black he’d originally thought it to be. He reached for one end and noticed the pattern of a snake in silver.
She puttered on as he examined both sides, graciously allowing him to touch her new found prize. “I’m sure that it has some magical properties, I can just feel it,” she preened. “But I’m sure I’ll have to wait for the loom to tell me more.”
Sebastian stood, still listening to her prattle on about her discovery, before taking his wand to mutter a quick cleaning charm. The dusty scarf becoming a brighter shade of green in their hands. He glanced up at her eyes to see them positively beaming, a soft dust of pink on her cheeks. The witch still ever in awe of the wonders of magic.
“May I?” he grinned at her, pulling the scarf gently towards himself. She met his eyes and relinquished it, trusting. Her head tilting slightly, inquisitive eyes never leaving his.
He wrapped the scarf carefully around the witch, taking extra care to tie the ends, the same way his mother did for him as a boy. Sebastian withdrew his hands to admire the sight in front of him.
She looked down at the scarf, her hands gently resting on the soft fabric around her neck. “I was really searching for ancient magic spots, but I think this will do just as nicely.” A satisfied, sly smile on her lips to match her faint pink cheeks.
He leaned in slightly with a boyish smile on his lips. Sebastian teasingly remarked, “This isn’t really your color, you do know.”
Her eyes narrowed, but were amused as she shot back, “I’ll have you know I look fair in all colors, Sallow.”
He couldn’t argue with her there. “I’m just saying that Slytherin green looks far better on you than Ravenclaw blue.” His hands fit into his pockets as he watched her glance off once more. He followed her gaze, the sun was really starting to dip at this point, just starting to kiss the trees in the distance.
“A dugbog got a splattering of mud on mine the other week.” Her nose crinkled at the memory, eyes still set far away. “A real shame, it was a welcome gift from Samantha.” He stared at the small pout returning to her lips again.
Sebastian fixed his staring and straightened his spine before he spoke, “Nothing a little butterbeer can’t wash away.”
He casually spun on his heels to begin the walk to The Three Broomsticks. He didn’t have to turn to see her grin.
“A butterbeer, which I assume I’ll be paying for,” she said as they fell into step with one another.
“Well,” he turned to face her working to burn the sight into his memory, the dark green fabric wrapped with care around the witch. “We did say whoever won the race, dear.” A coy smile plastered on his face.
He forked over the galleons that night, with the promise she could pay for tomorrow nights, though he’d never let her. Not for the next one nor the nights to follow.