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Moonlight painted the Black Lake in fractured silver, and Sebastian Sallow was, against all odds, nervous. Ridiculous. He had faced goblins, dark wizards, Inferi, and the suffocating weight of his own catastrophic decisions. Yet here he stood in the moonlit night, staring at a picnic blanket he’d charmed into hovering three inches too high, because apparently even fabric refused to cooperate tonight.
He flicked his wand again. The blanket dropped. The four lanterns above it were glowing, floating like captive suns. Acceptable. This was fine. He adjusted the collar of his shirt, then sighed, a hand runing through his own hair to comb them back in place. He wanted to look perfect for her. Her who moved through the world like it owed her reverence. Lavender hair probably braided tonight, he suspected. It usually was when she wanted to look even more beautiful than she already was. She carried herself like a cathedral in motion, all quiet arches and stained glass dignity. And yet, beneath that polished and calm composure, there was wit sharp enough to slice through him in a single raised brow.
To imagine he had nearly lost that... Lost her.. The thought lingered, unwelcome. He had felt her absence like a winter draft through his broken bones when she ignored him after everything. After the catacombs. After the secrets. He had told himself he deserved it. He likely did. But forgiveness from Eleanor had not come one day unexpected. It had come like spring blooms after winter. Slow. Reluctant. Then suddenly warm.
A soft crunch of grass behind him cut him from his thoughts. He turned. And there she was. Of course the braid was woven intricately down her back, pale lavender shimmering under the moon light. Freckles dusted across her nose like stars someone had drawn there deliberately. Jewel eyes found him instantly.
She paused, taking in the scene. The hovering lanterns. The blanket. The suspiciously ambitious spread of pastries he had likely bullied the House elves into helping him with. Yet, her expression remained stoic.
Then one brow lifted. “Sebastian Sallow,” she said coolly, “if this is an attempt at bribery, I should inform you I can't be bribed”
He smirked despite himself. “At least, I would have tried.”
She stepped closer, the lantern light catching the faintest curve of amusement at her lips. “You’ve lured me lakeside, at such an hour, under false pretenses, then.”
“On the contrary,” he said softly, offering his hand, “my pretenses are entirely sincere.”
She placed her hand in his opened palm. Merlin help him, that small gesture still undid him. They settled on the blanket. He had chosen the perfect night. The stars were bright tonight, reflecting in the water. The castle loomed behind them, like an ancient watch tower.
“I thought...” he began, suddenly aware that his voice sounded too eager, “that perhaps we deserved something... uncomplicated.”
Her gaze softened and her attitude slipped, just slightly. “Uncomplicated.. ?”
“Yes. No feast. No loud castle. No adventure. Just you and I. And cake.”
She glanced at the pastries. “That is an alarming large quantity of cake.”
“I panicked. Okay ?”
A small laugh escaped her before she could stop it. He felt victorious. They talked. About nothing. About Ravenclaw’s latest academic debate, about Ominis’ dramatic sighing habits, about how Peeves had attempted to duel a suit of armor and lost. He watched her shoulders relax. Watched the stoic elegance melt into something warmer, softer. She leaned back on her hands, braid grazing the blanket behind her, freckles more visible in the lantern glow.
“You’re staring,” she noted.
“Am I?”
“Yes. Intensely. It’s mildly creepy.”
“I’m simply appreciating the view.”
Her eyes narrowed in playful suspicion. “Flattery will not distract me from the fact that you are up to something.”
“I would never.”
“Mm.”
He decided then it was time for the grand show. With a dramatic flick of his wand and a large victorious smile, he sent the lanterns higher into the air. They rose beautifully, drifting above the lake in a slow, glowing arc. Her breath caught and for one perfect second, Sebastian felt invincible. It was beautiful. Sun's dancing over the mirror surface. Then, because the universe enjoyed humiliating him, one of the lanterns jerked sideways because of a sudden gust of wind. And another. And then, in what could only be described as a catastrophic chain reaction of poorly calibrated charm work and meteorological difficulties, the entire cluster swerved downward and shot straight toward the water.
Sebastian leapt up. “No, no, no.. !”
The lanterns struck the lake with a spectacular splash, extinguishing in a hiss of steam. Then.. Silence. Only a distant offended squawk from a frog, or maybe a dubbog. Sebastian stood there, wand still raised, staring at the ripples on the surface. Behind him, Eleanor was very quiet.
He closed his eyes. “In my defense, that was not supposed to happen..”
There was a pause. Then... She laughed. Not a polite chuckle. Not a restrained, regal sound. A bright, helpless, utterly unladylike laugh that folded her in half and stole the air from her lungs. Sebastian turned, stunned.
She was wiping at her eyes, cheeks flushed in amusement.
“You..” she tried, failing to compose herself. “You looked so confident.”
“I was confident.”
“Clearly.”
He felt his ears burn. “I was attempting to surprise you.”
“Oh you surely did.”
“It was supposed to be romantic.”
She stood, stepping toward him, still smiling. The lanterns light were gone now. Only moonlight remained. Silver edged her hair, softened her freckles, turned her eyes into the brightest jewels he had ever seen.
“You absolute fool...” she murmured fondly.
He swallowed. “I prefer misunderstood genius.”
She reached up and gently brushed a bit of lake mist from his sleeve. And then, softer, quieter, the humor settling into something deeper... “Thank you.”
“For extinguishing the lanterns ?”
“For trying.” Her gaze held his. “You don’t have to prove anything to me, Sebastian,” she said. “Not anymore.."
He exhaled slowly. “I just wanted you to have something beautiful.”
She smiled, small and certain. “I already do..”
Before he could process that, she took his hand and tugged him toward the edge of the lake.
“Wha.."
“Relax.” she said. “You trust me, don’t you?”
Dangerous question. “Unfortunately.”
With a flick of her own wand, far more precise than his, soft lights bloomed beneath the water’s surface. Not lanterns. Tiny shimmering orbs drifting just below the surface like drowning stars. The lake glowed. Sebastian was in awe.
She arched a brow. “Subtle charmwork. Seventh year standard.”
He huffed a laugh. “Show off.”
“Always.”
The reflected light danced across her face. And suddenly he understood something with painful clarity. She had been raised in a house that fed her but never loved her. Surrounded by wealth but starved of warmth. Treated as obligation instead of treasure. And yet she had chosen kindness. She had chosen to forgive him.
He stepped closer, brushing a loose strand of lavender hair back into her braid. “You are infuriatingly talented.”
“I know.”
“And insufferably elegant.”
“Yes.”
“And entirely too good for me.”
Her expression shifted, fierce now. “Do not...” she said firmly, “insult my taste.”
He blinked. Then laughed.
She rose on her toes and pressed a soft kiss to his cheek, quick and certain. “I know you like fire and explosions. But next time...” she added, “no attempting arson on the lake.”
“Next time..” he replied, pulling her gently back toward the blanket and the slightly damp pastries, “I’m consulting you first.”
“As you always should.”
They sat together again, closer this time. Shoulders touching. The lake glowing softly before them. The night had not gone according to plan. It went even better. Because Eleanor Porter did not need perfection. She needed sincerity. And Sebastian Sallow, former idiot and current hopeless romantic, could finaly manage that.