Chapter Text
Sebastian was late again. The dining room had already lived through the flush of introductions and dinner and chatter and by now had settled into a diffuse murmur while everyone enjoyed their drinks in various parts of the room. The piano and a violin were enchanted to play Elgar’s Salut d'Amour. From a quiet corner of the room, by a plush green sofa, Ominis presided over this small gathering of friends.
He didn't have dinner parties often, as he tried to save what little wealth was left to him after his parents squandered most of it — and when he did, these gatherings always had a purpose. They were an opportunity for him to have his friends all together in one place, even make new ones among the people they invited, and find out through casual conversation what was happening at the Ministry, what businesses were new, what businesses were failing, and what was in demand. And, last but not least, it allowed Ominis to be helpful to those he wished to help. Many collaborations owed their existence to some little dinner thrown by him or some well-timed introduction. The name of Gaunt, he had found out, still carried very far in certain circles.
Excluded from these pleasures was, of course, Sebastian, who stubbornly refused to be helped in any way. Ominis always invited him to these evenings, and his friend only inconsistently showed up. Too busy with his other friends. Even when they were studying at Hogwarts, his best friend could put up a good show of being the most clever, the most chivalrous, the most endearing little wizard — detentions notwithstanding — but Ominis knew better.
After what happened with Solomon and Anne cut all contact with him, Sebastian had kept his interest in the dark arts and, if anything, only fell deeper into it. Being outside of the confines of the school and away from Ominis had taken away the only good influences Sebastian had left, and so he flung himself into the study of those things that are… best left alone. Late nights spent in the company he dared not name, long journeys abroad, trips into Muggle London for seemingly no reason, and a lot, a lot of acquaintances that appeared and disappeared from the social scene the moment they met Sebastian…
Ominis didn’t know the half of it, of this he was certain, but a Gaunt could sniff out dark magic a mile away.
But this time, he had offered a bit of bait to his friend, mentioning there was someone he wanted to ‘introduce’ him to. He still remembered Sebastian’s silence of surprise, then delectation in his voice — no doubt at the idea of making some nefarious little contact for whom he might smuggle some cursed treasure, or whatever it was he did. Not that he would be so bold as to confess it directly to Ominis, but there were only so many ways to interpret an “Oh really? Do go on” from him.
And now, shortly after midnight, when half the guests had already left, Sebastian graced them with his presence.
“Ominis!” he said cheerfully. He was barely through the door, and the other guests quieted their conversations at the sight of him.
“Sebastian,” he smiled, slowly making his way to his friend.
“Great to see you again! Thank you for inv—”
“You're late.”
“I had some business to take care of, you know how it is...”
“No, I don’t,” said Ominis coolly. “How, exactly, is it?”
“Difficult,” said Sebastian with a lopsided grin so smarmy that Ominis could hear it.
He sighed and started walking back toward the far end of the room, Sebastian beside him. He could hear him say his good evenings to various people they passed by, all with the most charming smile, the most innocent voice, and no doubt a twinkle in his eye…
“You were with them, weren't you?”
“I don't know who you mean, Ominis,” said Sebastian while facing away to wave at someone.
All eyes turned toward the host and his guest as they passed through the thin crowd, and everyone nodded politely to Sebastian. None of them knew what he did, aside from the fact that it involved curse-breaking and that it wasn’t for Gringotts. Those who were still wary of goblins after the unpleasant business with Ranrock from fifteen years before were envious that Sebastian had managed to find a path in the treasure-hunting business outside of the control of Gringotts. Rumours said that Sebastian was a supplier for various shops on Diagon Alley, others thought he worked for some secret branch of the Ministry, while others still had ‘reliable’ sources that told them he was working for Beauxbatons. Sebastian did nothing to contradict any of these ideas, and only smiled and grinned charmingly when confronted with them, letting everyone form their own illusions without him having to burden himself any further with lies.
“What was it this time?” Ominis whispered angrily. “Banned spellbooks, illegal potion ingredients, smuggled body parts…?”
“Why? Are you on the market for any?” asked Sebastian serenely.
Ominis rolled his eyes and sighed. The silence between them grew tense. Eventually, Sebastian grit his teeth and relented. He always felt guilty when lying to his best friend, which Ominis used to his advantage.
“It was just a petrified hand from some old tomb, but it could only be traded under the light of a midnight moon.”
“And for that, you abandoned my dinner party?”
“Well, I didn't want to bring it here. Besides, I didn’t abandon your dinner party. I’m here now, aren’t I?”
“And I suppose I should be grateful?” sighed Ominis, but then he thought better of it and smiled. He had other plans for tonight. “Nevermind... Better late than never,” he said with a suspicious turning of the tone to something placating. “Come, there's someone I'd like you to meet who actually hasn’t left yet.”
“Oh?” said Sebastian with a cocking of his brow. “I thought you mentioned something about that… A business partner?”
“Something like that.”
Sebastian summoned a flute of champagne from across the room, catching it mid-float.
“Good evening!” he said when he noticed he was standing next to Lucan Brattleby.
“Sebastian!”
“Sorry I missed the dinner.”
“I’d say the dinner missed you,” laughed Lucan.
Ominis rolled his eyes at Sebastian’s sycophantic school friends, but said nothing. He waited for them to be done with their pleasantries then pulled his friend by the elbow, forward, toward a corner of the room softened with armchairs and a little loveseat. The spot was concealed beneath the hanging leaves of little potted plants, with candles floating low in the air. There, on the green sofa, Sebastian found a young lady sitting alone.
She seemed tired, her eyes a little dark and bleary, but looking sharply ahead of her at the other guests. She held a glass of some amber liquid to her chest and sipped from it slowly. Her dress was a plain cut of silk that tapered in black lace around her neck, elegant in its simple forms, and of a rather sombre dark-grey colour. Her hair was pinned up tightly, showing off her neck. She lit up when she saw Ominis approaching.
“I do hope you’re still awake,” he said with a hint of apology.
“Fresh as a daisy,” said the young lady, propping herself up to a straighter pose as she looked from one man to the other. Her voice was husky at the end of the night, but had the sort of feminine timbre that always appealed to Sebastian.
“This is who I've been meaning for you to meet,” said Ominis.
As he introduced her to him, Sebastian tried to think back to who else he knew that shared her surname, but could recall no one. She can’t have been in their year at Hogwarts, and she certainly didn’t mix in his usual circles.
“And this is Mr Sebastian Sallow.”
“A pleasure to meet you,” she nodded, smiling up at him. “I've... heard so much about you.”
Sebastian stared at her for a moment, smiling in surprise, then looked to Ominis with a raised brow. “Have you indeed? Well, the pleasure’s all mine.” Sebastian bent and kissed her hand, barely tasting her skin through the lace. “I hope it hasn't been all bad.”
The young lady looked up at Sebastian with the most innocent eyes and, without a pause, answered, “Not at all. Ominis speaks about you in glowing terms,” she smiled. “I understand you work as a Curse-Breaker?”
“Yes,” said Sebastian quickly, taking a seat beside her on the sofa, “but not for Gringotts.”
“He's never been very fond of goblins,” said Ominis with a tired sigh.
“I can… understand that,” she said with a tight obliging smile. “I’ve heard you were involved with that business with the goblins all those years ago…”
“Oh yes,” chuckled Sebastian. “But that was last century, at this point.”
“Still, I’m sure your reservations can be justified.”
“A lady of taste,” Sebastian nodded with a grin, making himself comfortable next to her. “I see we already have a lot in common.”
“Why? Are you a lady of taste too, Sebastian?” asked Ominis with a cocked brow.
She hid a smile behind a sip of her drink while Sebastian glared up at his friend. Ominis seemed to instinctively feel the look, but he just smirked through it.
“I shall take my leave,” he said, bowing to the pair. “I believe Lucan will leave soon and I would like to wish him a safe journey home.”
“Sure. Give him my best,” said Sebastian, but Ominis had already walked away.
He sighed and shook his head, gritting his teeth at his friend’s easy departure. Sebastian was determined to not let Ominis’ feelings about the dark arts get in the way of their friendship. But it was rendered all the more difficult when Ominis made it painfully obvious how much he disapproved of him, of how he was spending his life, or as Ominis put it, ‘how he was spending his freedom’. He always liked to hold it over Sebastian’s head how close he came to a life sentence in Azkaban following the untimely death of his uncle. He wondered why, then, Ominis still invited him to these silly little dinner parties…
He turned his head to his new friend to find her looking at him carefully, her eyes clouded with thoughts, the shadow of a smile on her lips.
“So, am I right to assume you have been waiting for me all evening,” asked Sebastian with an arrogant grin.
“Hmm no,” she said at length, smiling pleasantly at him. “I was just told you might appear.”
“Were you?”
“But I was also told to not have high expectations,” she said with a tight smile.
“And,” started Sebastian, moving slightly closer to her. The lady moved her heavy skirt to make room for him. “What else have you heard?”
She only pretended to think, looking to the side while she braced one arm against the sofa to stretch her body toward him. “I’ve heard that you’re the kind of man,” she started, seeming to give it serious consideration, “that I could talk to…”
“Yes?” said Sebastian, leaning closer to her with an easy smile. “You can talk to me about anything.”
“About certain… dangerous topics?”
“I love dangerous topics,” he said, licking his lips as he let his eyes taste her up and down.
For her part, she took in his behaviour with perfect serenity, if a little coquettish affectation. It was as if she had anticipated everything about him, about how he would react to her presence, the sound of her voice, the way she angled her body in that perfect way like a feline stretching toward a caress…
“Perhaps even, unsanctioned topics?” she continued, looking at him with large, vulnerable eyes.
“Madam,” he said closely, bringing one large solemn hand to his heart, “you needn’t say more. Whatever you need, I am your man.”
She bit her lip and clutched her half-drunk glass to her chest as if she could protect herself with it. Her long lashes fanned over her cheeks as she prepared to say something, apparently, quite difficult for her.
“I have heard, Mr Sallow, that you are familiar with chasing forbidden items across the continent.”
“I might be. Why? Do you have a need —”
“My brother, Melancthon, has gone missing while searching for a rare and possibly cursed item, and I was wondering if I could possibly ask for your help to find him and bring him back.”
She looked at him with such a vulnerable gaze, so open and hopeful and — finally he realised — tired, that it broke through every rejection that might have sprung up in his mind. Worst of all was that she reminded him at that moment far too much of Anne. He didn’t stand a chance.
“Miss,” said Sebastian at length, taking her hand in his, “you have my attention, my sympathy and, in fact, every part of myself is at your disposal.”
To continue their discussion away from prying eyes, he invited the young lady for a walk in the garden. Ominis’ mansion was small, for such an illustrious wizarding family as the Gaunts, but the green spaces that shielded his home from the prying eyes of the muggle and the magical alike were broad, wild, and overgrown. The bright moon beneath which Sebastian had earlier sold an item of immense destructive powers could now barely see the pair as they walked, arm in arm, under the blue and black boughs of old trees.
He didn’t often have the opportunity to meet with ladies in his line of work, and he was constantly afraid of making an indiscrete move, saying the wrong thing, stepping on shoes as it were… But she kept him perfectly at ease, walking slowly by his side, supporting him as much as he supported her. All that was left for Sebastian to do was listen.
“And so, you see, after the third week of him gone with no letter, no note, no owl, I have really begun to be afraid, Mr Sallow…”
“I’m sure there’s no need,” he said, covering her hand with his. “He’s probably just… far away without any means of writing back to you.”
“My brother would never stay so long without sending word,” she said, sounding equal parts worried and angry.
Sebastian chuckled sadly — he could hear Anne say something similar, in those days when she was still speaking to him. “Perhaps he has become distracted by the object he is chasing,” he suggested with a raised brow. “Which is what, if I may ask?”
“I’m not certain,” she sighed. “A sort of polished rock, as I recall…”
“Hmm…”
“It appeared somewhere in the Aeolian Islands.”
“Southern Italy?”
“Yes.”
Sebastian tried to think of what manner of cursed objects he had collected in the area. There were few that were worthy of the name, and all of them had already been retrieved — if not by him, then by someone he knew. There was always the chance that this was something new, but, if there was he would probably have heard about it by now. Which made it all the more suspicious, because he had never heard of a Melancthon in the business.
“And your brother is… a veteran in the field?” he tried.
“Not at all,” the girl complained. “It is the first time he goes on such an expedition.
“Ah,” he chuckled.
“Mother and father weren’t too worried at first, but I can tell they’re beginning to be…”
Sebastian gave a loud laugh at that. “Probably what inspired him to leave in the first place,” he said as he brought them to a stone bench beneath the heavy branches of a magnolia. “A change of scenery.”
She looked at him with a hint of resentment as she let go of his arm and took a seat. Sebastian sat beside her, smiling to himself. He could easily see himself in her brother, even if his parents were still alive. It would not have taken Anne’s curse to get him interested in the dark arts, he knew in his heart he would have gravitated toward them eventually. A life spent in little Feldcroft, while pleasant, was hardly enough for him. He liked to think his parents would understand, even when they disapproved.
“I haven’t asked, but… may I inquire as to what you do, Miss?” said Sebastian, turning toward her.
“Oh, I don't work,” she said sheepishly. “Mother and father never thought it proper for me to be employed anywhere in particular, and Melly has been quite happy to care for me, as I care for him… We have our own little cottage in Upper Flagley,” she said with a childish sort of pride, cupping her hands in her lap and smiling wistfully. “I tend to our little garden, and we raise chickens…”
“That sounds like it can be charming, in its own way,” said Sebastian at length.
He was lying, of course. He could hardly imagine a duller life than that, and he could easily see why her dear brother had departed — the promise of cursed treasure must hardly have been necessary, it was just the trigger.
“But I suppose it can get lonely,” he suggested. “No one to talk to? No one to... have... fun with?”
Sebastian was teetering on the edge of innuendo and she gave him a sharp disapproving look at that but made no move to distance herself from him. Instead, she curled her lips into a pleasant smile.
She had known to expect as much from what Ominis had told her about him, she had even counted on it. ‘Shallow Sallow’ he called him on more than one occasion when he regaled her with stories — and complaints. Sebastian's reputation hinged on seeming harmless, friendly, and a little impulsive, Ominis said, whereas the truth was that he was a humourless, calculating, remorseless wizard who stopped at nothing to feed his obsession. It was under the auspices of such despair that Ominis had come to her seeking help — to lure Sebastian back, to show him a different path, to tease him with the possibilities of something more fulfilling... There were other joys to partake of in life, and she had been enlisted to show them to him.
She had unwittingly made a reputation for herself by saving one of his cousins from a similar vice, a young witch named Madinia Gaunt. She attended Hogwarts with her up until eight years prior, and they had fallen in and out of an obsession with hexes together. When Madinia had taken all the necessary steps to curse a rival in love in a way that was most morally compromising to herself, her friend was there to pull her back. She had stalled, delayed, and confused her long enough for the feelings to become muddled in her heart. In the end, it was easy for her to persuade Maddie that it just wasn’t worth it.
And then, Maddie confessed everything to her cousin Ominis.
Unbeknownst to Ominis, the reason for her efficiency at swaying dear, dark, frail Madinia from using those demonic invocations was because she had done the same a year before.
She still felt the splinters in her soul, the shame and the regret, and feared she would live with the weight of what she had done her whole life. It was moments like these, when she thought she could give someone else the help she never received, that made her past experiences seem worth it. The fact that Ominis offered to pay her for the service had not made much of a difference.
And so she indulged Sebastian with a sweet, warm smile, a batting of the lashes, and a longer-held gaze than necessary. He had seemed lively enough inside, but the light of the moon with the deep shadows of the garden revealed him to be tired and drained, the dark circles under his eyes quite prominent, his clothes less properly arranged than their quality dictated, and his hands, laying quietly on his knees, looking hard and rough.
“Yes, quite lonely,” she said at length. “I lie awake at night, worried sick… It’s been torturous.” She held his gaze for a moment, biting her lip in a picture of perfect frustration, before finally daring to reach out and hold Sebastian’s hand. “Mr Sallow, please tell me you understand.”
“I do,” he said, swallowing the knot in his throat.
“So you will help me?”
Sebastian looked down at her hand on top of his and sighed. He knew her feelings all too well. His torment over Anne, his pain at her absence, his feelings of impotence at never being able to save her… After she ceased all contact, there was nothing left in her place but a hollowing, an emptiness which Sebastian had been forced to fill somehow. At the same time, his fixation on the curse that had eaten away her childhood had been turned inside out, following her cure upon Rookwood’s death, and from there it swallowed him whole. The answers Sebastian could not find as a child, he chased now across the country, across the globe if the opportunity arose, and he was left chasing forever for an answer that would never be satisfying, never interesting enough, never dangerous enough. He uncovered secrets sane wizards would never hope to approach. He fought monsters he’d only read about in the oldest tomes of the Restricted Section. He found objects of such obscure magical valence that he could not begin to know what to do with them — but other people did, and what they used them for, he was better off not knowing.
It paid well, this curiosity, but it kept him toeing just this side of sanity. Some days, that was exactly what he wanted. On other days, he wondered whether Anne ever missed him… He was, therefore, poised to be especially sympathetic to this young lady’s plight.
“Even before knowing more about your brother, as I have already said, I lay my service at your feet. In whatever endeavour you need me, I'm yours. However... you may not always like what I have to say about your brother’s situation.”
“I understand,” she nodded, suddenly righting herself in her seat. It was the first time she seemed truly engaged in the conversation, and in Sebastian.
“I shall investigate the item that has caused his absence, but during the course of this, you may have to confront some brutal truths.”
“I love brutal truths,” she said, holding his gaze.
“Good,” said Sebastian with a smile. “So do I.”
He was glad she had not shied away from him and in fact seemed to meet him head-on at every suggestion of danger. It left a delicious taste in his mouth, and suddenly he felt like kissing her hand again. She was far too interesting to be left to waste away secluded in some ‘little cottage’, raising poultry and waiting for her useless brother to come back. Sebastian would help her with that... if only a little.
“It is rather cold for how little you are wearing,” he said, letting his eye roam her figure, “lovely as it is. We should go back inside.”