Chapter Text
"You used me as an alibi,
crossed my heart as you crossed the line."
Noelle's Perspective
My fingers drummed anxiously against the wooden desk underneath with a quill while my teeth fidgeted at the lip of my mouth. If I kept going, I guaranteed a piece of my skin would be chewed off from the lack of knowledge.
I side-eyed in the moment and cleared my throat, being careful not to seem like an idiot on the first day of the sixth year.
"Psst,"
I could hear murmuring beneath her lips, clearly showing that she was in fact, concentrated on the lesson given.
"Poppy!"
The brown eyes raised.
"Do you, uh," I pressed my lips, embarrassed as I flicked my wand, "...know the incantation for this?"
Poppy Sweeting furrowed at me from the questioning and wiggled her fingers down her closed spell book — she knew if she opened it, Professor Ronen would call us out.
"Elle, we spent the summer learning these. I even owl'd you a book with enchanted notes." Poppy whispered back.
I blinked once. Oblivious.
"You read it, correct?" She asked again, but I could see a concerned expression on her face.
Force a nod. Just force a nod.
I forced a half smile, masking confidence, and nodded. "Yeah, right. Of course."
Yeah, right. Of course — I was going to have the proper head-starting time to study for classes after I followed a horrifying first (late) year at Hogwarts; battling anything in sight, countless threats, deaths, sleepless nights, and oh yeah, right, completing assignments.
I was definitely going to have the perfect time-space to study how to enchant a levitating spark within trauma. Definitely.
"Noelle Ellis can't conjure up a spell, I hear?" A whisper, as a matter of fact, it wasn't a whisper coming from the student. That specific student.
I sighed, keeping my posture straight to prevent chaos from my lack of knowledge, and pretended not to hear the red-haired man from behind.
"Say, did you not spend the majority of the fifth year fighting off enemies and saving the day?" Garreth poked my shoulder with his quill pen, "...yet, can't cast this? Huh,"
Garreth Weasley.
There might've been a slight tingly feel of butterflies when I clashed paths with him in the Gryffindor Common Room one year ago. Might've. After getting to know his disastrous, troublemaking potion-making kits — let's say my feelings were up for debate.
And they stayed that way.
He was class trouble. And the best eavesdropper to contract.
"Hilarious, Weasley," I spoke from the side shoulder, "I could say the same with your lack of potion-making."
A few 'ooo's' and chuckles whined from the student boys beside him at the joking interaction and Garreth chuckled.
"I'll take it as a compliment, thank you very much," Garreth whispered in offense.
I huffed, turning my view onto the brainless chords in my head. Merlin couldn't even make up for the things I did not study for this summer. Not at all.
"Perhaps, Mister Gaunt can spare some marks?" Garreth kept going, referencing the student who sat two seats to the right.
The ruffles of blonde hair hung lightly as I peaked at the student minding his business and proceeding on following the lesson. His wand flicked gently and I didn't want to bother.
"I'm sure the wand he holds is more advanced than the rest, isn't it?" Garreth insulted.
I closed my eyes at the backhanded compliment, but then concentrated a stare on the student who stood muted in his seat.
The blonde man just blocked out any attention around his space and concentrated.
Despite being compatible with all the harsh traits a Slytherin is rumored to have, and being raised in a home filled with dark magic trauma, Ominis Gaunt was my friend.
Surprisingly, I became privileged to receive a handful, well, only a finger count of owls from Ominis this summer. A few updates leveled the friendship.
Unlike someone else — actually, I prefer to blur out that part of my conscious.
"Ominis," I said.
I shouldn't have felt fear of calling out the name, but it was scary to interrupt Ominis Gaunt in a concentrated state.
His kindness was limited. Very limited.
Ignore.
"Ominis..." I whispered, the name-call becoming longer.
No turn. No disturbance.
I huffed, "I know you can hear me."
Ominis took his time to complete his incantation. I could see the glow of his wand reduce as he released a sigh.
"I am blind, not deaf, Noelle." Ominis murmured out in a hushed tone, "I heard you the first time."
I nodded, leaning, not wanting to disrupt Poppy between us, and grew my weight closer to Ominis two seats away.
"Great, I could use some—"
I was unable to finish my own sentence. The conversation came to an end when the door of the Charms classroom abruptly opened.
My stomach seemed to twist and turn for a few seconds. Quite like butterflies in the stomach, but the opposite?
Did it exist? A word for that feeling?
I turned slowly to witness the disruptive presence mid-class.
A mess of shaggy brown hair entered the classroom. It was accompanied by a breathless sound that hinted at tardiness while his long fingers adjusted the undone green tie on his collar, unaware of the surroundings for a moment.
I flushed.
It wasn't intentional, but it was an unknown feeling that I couldn't process. Though I wasn't in the spotlight, I felt embarrassed about my own expressions from the presence.
"Ah, Mister Sallow," Professor Ronen's voice echoed through the class happily, bringing me back to reality. "A pleasure of you to join us. Welcome back. Take a seat."
Sebastian Sallow stood at the entrance of the Charms classroom for five seconds. And although it was five seconds, I took notice of the changes that had taken over that summer.
He'd grown taller. Not that he was ever short, but the Slytherin robe now fell a few inches above his feet, indicating a growth spurt.
The enthusiastic, hopeful face that he was once known for all fifth-year around me was no longer there. Instead, a dark, muted, and tired look plastered on him. Almost as if he had given up.
I didn't blame him, but I also didn't want to intervene my thoughts with his attention. Not anymore. Not after this summer.
"I apologize, professor. I lost track of time. It shall not happen again." Sebastian Sallow spoke for the first time in months.
His voice was deeper.
It was silly how many things could shift in a few months.
"Lucky for you, young man, it is the first day." Ronen winked with a point, "Please, have a seat. We are briefly summarizing spells you must've learned over the summer break."
My eyes lowered immediately, indicating no interest in the fact that Sebastian was taking his steps in our direction, excusing his way onto the wooden bench and passing behind me.
And just within a pass. Just a bloody pass from behind — Merlin, I blame the heightened senses within me on the Ancient Magic. Yeah, it was the Ancient Magic lingering on his scent.
The scent that wafted through the air like autumn; autumn tinged with driftwood and the subtle hint of smoke, fire, or was it books? Or maybe we used too many firing spells over the year, it's all I connected him to?
It was the scent that smelled like my fifth year.
The scent that laced so many memories, but so many regrets.
"Excuse me," He said.
I blinked, avoiding sight, and pretended to concentrate on the incantation I had, yet, not gotten the proper help with.
It wasn't a purpose. I didn't believe it was on purpose. I tried not to reflect on the idea that just a quarter of a year ago we were inseparable. Reckless. Bonding.
But that was a quarter of a year ago, counting since May. Just four months ago, including summer.
Summer, right.
No owls pecked on those summer windows from Sebastian Sallow.
Not one.
No lines of communication.
No, 'Hey, are you alright?' or 'How are you holding up after the fifth year?' None of that.
Was it required? No, of course not. I tried to give an understanding that the passing of Solomon Sallow was heavy, or that he lost contact with his twin sister, Anne Sallow. I understood, but, I tried.
Why didn't he?
"Sebastian, is that you I hear?" Ominis Gaunt raised his voice at the sound of Sebastian flopping onto the empty seat beside him.
I furrowed.
Ominis Gaunt on speaking terms with Sebastian Sallow after the last encounter?
After I spent hours convincing him not to turn him in and keep quiet?
They were speaking?
"It's me, Ominis." Sebastian's voice was a mix of a chuckle and assurance as he sat confidently.
Clearly, there was a reconciliation between the two men, considering they spoke on good terms.
Clearly, it's a sign that Sebastian Sallow was indeed sending owls this summer.
Clearly, this should serve as my answer: Sebastian Sallow, in fact, did not spare a wonder about me this summer after everything.
I could hear Garreth Weasley and Leander Prewett teasing out at the late Slytherin student in our line of seats and chuckles coming off them.
I swallowed, adjusting my posture on the wooden bench, and pretended as if nothing happened. My wand tapped lightly on my book.
"By the way, Noelle," Ominis voice called to my attention.
My eyes closed, wanting to curse to myself as I had forgotten about my intention of getting help from Ominis before an unexpected third party entered.
"Never mind, Ominis," I cleared my throat, avoiding to turn in their direction, "I managed. Thank you." I lied.
"Elle?" A voice called beside Ominis.
At the mention of my nickname, my eyes flickered up momentarily. They didn't settle on him, but rather on the first student across the class from me, which was a random Hufflepuff.
I was hesitant to turn to my right on the actual person speaking.
With the sounds of everyone enchanting spells and murmuring incantations at the same time, maybe I could excuse the sound. Maybe, I could pretend I didn't hear.
"Hey, Elle," Poppy whispered lightly, nudging my elbow a few seconds later.
"Hm?"
"I think Sebastian is calling you." Her whisper was light.
A flirty whistle blew behind and my throat thickened as I realized our peers had taken notice of the interactions and teased out.
Leander whistled out, making the scenario worse, while Garreth grew payback from my previous lash at him.
I turned to my right.
And there he was. Just one seat from Poppy Sweeting.
His soft pink lips were parted, framed by his eyelashes that sat above his brown eyes. Their tired gaze met mine as freckles scattered across his pale skin.
But beneath such expression, exhausted eyes and dark circles haunted me with faint scars over the freckled face. Faint scars that were only produced in heavy battles.
No owls this summer. Remember that.
"Sebastian." I followed.
Yes, a first-name greeting. It seemed common to call each other by first and last names at Hogwarts, as I learned in my experience from attending here.
"Hey, you" "Hi" "There you are" — those were solid greetings between us.
Until now.
There was a half smile that grew on Sebastian, but it was evident that from the name greeting, things shifted this summer.
"It's nice to see you." He said.
We fought monsters side by side, battled enemies, and defended against the most outrageous acts. Ignored me all summer after, between. And yet, after all that, it's just a casual "nice to see you"?
My weary eyes met the hazel ones, one seat away, and I held in the grudge that threatened to surface.
"I could say the same." That is all I said.
I didn't wait for a reaction back. Instead, I turned back into my seat and let Poppy Sweeting block my view from Sebastian Sallow again, pretending as if this wasn't only the beginning of a downfall between us.