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hippogrifffeathers · 6 months

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Don't Blame Me (Part 1)

Sebastian's concerns for MC's safety are at an all-time high. He's had it with their recklessness, their decision to trust a goblin the final nail in the coffin- if they refuse to listen to reason, insisting on continually endangering themselves, then Sebastian would simply have to take measures into his own hands.

When rumours begin to circulate about their latest exploit (the takedown of an ashwinder base) he's hit with an epiphany. Perhaps the enemy of his friend, could be his ally.

Whatever happened next, at least he'd always know MC was alive, no matter what the cost.

fic is on ao3 here

The heat of the Undercroft threatened to become unbearable, stifling air brought on by countless blasts aimed at the numerous target dummies, robes long since discarded and thrown to the side in a mindless shuffle, sleeves rolled up and rivulets of sweat clinging to the nape of his neck- anyone else would have long since abandoned the burning heat of the room to the cooler air of the Castle.

Sebastian couldn’t bring himself to care, hoping the air might burn some of the energy from his body, tear the frustration from his lungs, perhaps he could finally claim a night of uninterrupted sleep when all this was over.

There’s no concern of getting interrupted in here, nobody to tell him to calm down or to talk him through his racing mind. Ominis had holed himself up in some corner of the library to finish an essay, and the only other person who knew about the Undercroft had rarely visited the hidden alcove before their fight with him.

Unwillingly, his eyes drifted to the side, catching on the open triptych.

His next basic cast threatened to topple the training dummy over, viciously tearing from his wand on impulse.

MC had been avoiding him- the rare times they were even in the Castle, that was. Like they had any right to be the one avoiding him, after what they had done. He saw the way they slipped around corners at the sight of him, head stubbornly turned in the other direction when they crossed paths in the corridors- things he only caught sight of from the periphery of his vision, the glances he caught when they weren’t looking.

It’s how he knew they were so frequently sneaking out. They hadn’t been at dinner for an entire week now, fleeing the grounds at a moment's notice, and none of the staff could care less.

Neither could he. Sebastian had no interest in whatever fruitlessly heroic missions they indulged in when they took flight from the grounds, whatever daring mystery had caught their attention now. He. Didn’t. Care.

Except, that’s a lie.

A huge lie, it’s impossible to ignore. His skin itches at the thought of what dangers they may be facing, without anyone at their side to defend them, his gaze can’t help but seek them out in a room, settling on the rhythmic movement of their breathing, the steady gait in their walk, all signs of health- of life , anything to settle the racing fears in his mind.

Thoughts made worse when he remembers their latest argument, that goblin friend of theirs. Disgusting. Impossible. Terrifying . How could they be so stupid ?

A hissing diffindo slices the head clean off the training dummy. He casts reparo with hardly a second thought.

On the worst nights, images of them plagued his dreams. MC, dead in the middle of a goblin encampment, dragged off in a cage to meet their fate at Ranrok’s hands, bled dry of their magic until they had nothing left of use to Ranrok, pallor ashen and empty, lying dead at the goblin’s hands. Images fuelled by their latest visit to Feldcroft, the way the goblins had focused so intently on MC as they arrived in the midst of battle, the words of violence as they recognised MC in their trip to the Mines, none of it any surprise to the target of their ire, like they were used to it- even as the goblins’ attitude was only getting more violent, more targeted.

None of those dreams felt like his usual terrors- nothing like how the memory of Anne being cursed had haunted his sleep for months afterwards, or how images of his parents’ death still lingered on nights when he felt particularly alone or hopeless. No, these dreams felt different, leaving him lurching awake, his chest tight with panic.

Deep down he knew it was because these dreams were different- because every single image his brain conjured up was entirely possible.

MC had always been reckless, but they were taking it too far, putting their faith- their precious friendship- in the hands of a goblin , one close with Ranrok, no less.

The knowledge sat like poison on his tongue, disgust and fear raged a vicious war within him at the thought.

How long until MC was betrayed, and nobody would be there to save them?

Years spent in Feldcroft, dealing with the constant threat of Goblin Loyalists, and Sebastian had never seen them as violent, as determinedly targeted as when they clashed against MC. Terror races in his veins at the thought of what they might do if they finally got their claws on MC, what horrors MC might face before the goblins inevitably killed them.

Look at what they had done to Anne, for the mere crime of existing- what would they do to someone who was actively seeking out and destroying their camps, intentionally getting in their way and investigating their plans?

MC was ignorant to the true nature of goblins, couldn't understand it like Sebastian did. They were blinded by their own naivety, mindlessly putting their trust in centuries-old Keepers and goblins, with no care for how their own life hung in the balance.

Deaf to reason, MC refused to listen to Sebastian, insistently running out of the castle to face unnamed threats, believing themself invincible or ignorant to the fact that they weren’t- it was tearing him apart.

It was in dreams that the truth was hardest for him to deny or hide from.

If MC kept doing this, they would die. He was going to lose them.

Just like he’d lost his parents, like he was losing Anne- he hadn’t stopped those from happening, he’d been blind to the danger until it was too late- but not with MC. This time he could see the threat coming, he wouldn’t turn away from the danger they were in- not like MC was so determined to. He’d not allow their ignorance to get in the way, he couldn't .

Sebastian was tired. Tired of losing the people he cared about, of feeling helpless to protect them and feeling haunted by the ‘what ifs’ for the rest of his life.

He couldn’t lose MC too, no matter what the cost.

---------------------

“An entire base, I heard.”

“Natty owes them her life.”

“You think they’d tell us what happened if I asked?”

Sebastian grits his teeth as the whispers of Hogwarts gossip follows him through the Castle, whispers which had been impossible to escape since breaking out at breakfast that morning, all about how MC had supposedly taken out an entire Ashwinder base to rescue Natsai Onai- a story which had apparently originated from the staff themselves, and Natty was making no effort to refute, happy to praise the heroic prowess of her friend.

The rumour itself isn’t surprising, not to him. He’d seen first hand what MC was capable of- more so than anybody else he’d dare wager, they were the most competent magical study Sebastian knew and would confess to as much regardless of whether they weren’t talking right now- no, it was the rest that frustrated him.

MC had raided an entire Ashwinder base, on their own. It infuriated him- this same recklessness, the blatant disregard for their own safety, had they even paused to think , to consider the risks before acting? How hard would it have been for them to pen a note to him for back-up first? Regardless of their last conversation, he would have been at their side in an instant, and they could have burned down that Ashwinder base together- he would have thought MC knew that, regardless of how petulant they had been acting recently.

Privately, if only to himself, Sebastian could confess that not all of his frustration was directed towards MC.

He’d been neglectful.

So caught up in the threat of Ranrok and his loyalists, it had been easy to forget about the sight of Victor Rookwood that day in the Three Broomsticks- too easily, he’d forgotten that loyalists were not the only ones hunting down MC.

At least against goblins, there was a wand-casting advantage- but with Ashwinders, MC could be facing any length of dark magic thrown against them, forbidden curses and conjurations against a student who had only been studying magic for a few months…

And yet, the realisation didn’t send the same white hot fear racing down his spine as when he thought about MC going up against goblins, something Sebastian didn’t care to question, but the thought of the dark wizards still worried him. Especially since whatever MC was doing when they weren’t on castle grounds, was clearly drawing the ire of the Ashwinders when they already had a target on their backs.

What was so important, it took priority over their own life?

The triptych, Sebastian could understand- that was MC’s magic they were talking about, and they were investigating it with him - someone MC could rely on, who certainly wouldn’t allow himself to be in need of rescuing.

Which begged the question, why had Natty needed rescuing?

Ashwinders had been terrorising the highlands since before even Ranrok’s Loyalists had taken over, and they had only grown more bloodthirsty as their power grew- it wasn’t like the dark wizards to spare mercy on anyone, even a child. If Natty had been in their way, she should have been killed- not captured.

So why was she ?

Curiosity stabbed at the back of his mind like an errant gnat, an itch he couldn’t scratch without burning his pride and asking MC themself, breaking the silence between them.

He’d have to settle for the Hogwarts rumour mill, how dull and disappointing.

Still, he had to wonder what purpose Victor Rookwood had for pursuing MC like this, drawing their ire against Ashwinder encampments and, from what he had heard, poaching rings. Ranrok, MC had told him about- the goblin’s relentless pursuit of ancient magic, targeting MC for the knowledge they had, searching at the locations of previous keepers- Isadora Morganach’s old home, Rookwood Castle-

He stumbled in his steps, only vaguely aware of the way it drew Ominis’ attention his way, the frown in his friend’s browline, “Sebastian, are you alright?”

He pulled himself together enough to brush off the concern, resuming their casual stroll to lunch, “Y-yeah I just tripped, faulty stair. Let’s keep going.” If Ominis said anything in reply, Sebastian wasn’t paying enough attention to know, mind already reeling.

Rookwood Castle.

Oh Merlin, he was an idiot.

This went beyond some minor truce with Ranrok to hand over MC, beyond any anger with MC for disrupting Ashwinder operations.

Victor Rookwood was the descendant of a Keeper.

He had to know about the Ancient Magic, and if that were true then there was no way he’d be willing to hand MC over to Ranrok, not if he’d figured out that they were able to wield it.

Rookwood wasn’t stupid enough to trust a goblin, as much was obvious to him from the moment MC identified the pair conspiring together in Hogsmeade. Sebastian knew immediately that whatever alliance this was, it was tentative at best, built from a single shared goal- one that, once met, would see an immediate end to the alliance, with what he hoped would be a devastating fallout.

And he had a suspicion on the identity of their shared goal- not a ‘what’, like MC seemed to suspect, but a ‘who’.

First, he needed more information.

-------------------

By Beasts class that afternoon, his head was still swimming with his earlier realisation, with nothing else to focus on but all the questions he didn’t have answers to, a rush of energy through his body as he waited for the moment class would be over and he could head to the clocktower, hoping to find Natty there.

Anything that happened between then and now would fade to a trivial blur.

Or, so he’d thought, until Howin lead them all into a penned clearing not too far from the Beasts hut, and the creature held within was enough to temporarily abate all thoughts of Rookwood and the Ashwinders from his mind.

A Unicorn .

Pure white coat practically shining under the winter sun, shaking its mane with a gracefulness Sebastian didn’t know was possible, the ethereal image interrupted only by the careful wrapping of bandages around its torso, the slight limp to its steps.

He couldn’t believe what he was seeing. Unicorn’s were so rare-

“Not too close, that’s it, Unicorns are excellent reads of character, but they tend to show a preference for witches over wizards. I wouldn’t want to startle them, especially not at the moment. Hopefully we’ll be able to introduce you all in the future, once they’ve gotten used to their new surroundings.” Howin directed them several paces away from the fencing, but still within sight.

Sebastian’s sure he isn’t the only one holding his breath when the Unicorn seems to finally notice it has company, but after a few seconds of watching them all, assured nobody is moving closer, the beast huffs, resuming its grazing.

He swears he hears Poppy Sweeting practically vibrating with excitement.

“Of course, their caution isn’t unwarranted. Magical creatures adapt their behaviours over time to ensure survival- the Unicorn is no different. Just about one of the most magically-imbued creatures that exist, from their hair to their blood, they are practically made of magic potential- a fact which puts them at great risk.” As if on cue, the Unicorn stumbled over its right hoof, the front of which had stitches racing up the leg, a detail he had missed until now.

He wasn’t the only one who realised. From the corner of his eye, Sebastian caught the twisted expression on MC’s face. Absent-mindedly, he wondered if they were feeling some sort of kinship with the beast, as Howin pressed on with her lecture.

“Unicorns are not aggressive by nature, despite how powerful they are, and we’d be better off describing them as ‘prey’ animals. To make up for this, Unicorns have a very keen judgement of character, and when combined with their breakneck speeds, they’re able to evade predators- well, most of the time.” The Professor sighed, anger bleeding into her tone, “This one, we rescued from a pack of poachers. Even the most agile of creatures can be caught off-guard, especially if their predator is cunning enough- their natural self-defence tools won’t always be enough.”

Sebastian tried to imagine that. One of the most pure and magical creatures in the known wizarding world, ruthlessly targeted and hunted down until it was overwhelmed on all sides- injured, alone, without escape. Helpless to the malicious whims of a predator who’d use them for their magical potential, and discard what remained.

It was too easy to imagine, felt too familiar to think about. Nausea curled on his tongue.

“Aren’t we just as bad, then?” One of his classmates interjected. A Gryffindor, Elijah Jennings, who stumbled over his words slightly when the full attention of the class fell on him, “I-I mean, keeping the Unicorn in captivity, even after they heal…how is that any better than the poachers?”

Howin didn’t seem upset by the line of questioning. If anything, she seemed happy to answer, as though she’d been hoping someone would ask. Knowing Howin, she probably had been.

“Well, what is kinder Mister Jennings- releasing the Unicorn back into the wild, where they’d continue to be targeted by predators and likely die in a matter of days, especially without the support of their pack- or keep them at Hogwarts, yes in captivity, but where we know they will be safe and protected from those who’d do them harm?”

At this Jennings shut his mouth, but more interesting were the reactions of several students to the left of Jennings. Poppy Sweeting, who looked like she couldn’t agree more. MC, who was nodding along to Howin’s words, even though their attention hadn’t wavered from the injured Unicorn.

Howin continued, and Sebastian found himself hanging on to her every word.

“Sometimes, in order to protect magical creatures- especially endangered ones- a difficult decision must be made on their behalf,” With a single flick of her band, Howin levitated a bundle of feed the Unicorn’s way, “What is better, an upset Unicorn, or a dead one? What is a little bit of unhappiness in the short term, if it means they stay safe in the long term?”

A heaviness settles amongst the group at her severe words, watching in silence as the Unicorn eyes the bundle of feed warily, caution in its every step as it approaches. Then, slowly, the head bows as it begins to eat, tail swishing to the side in satisfaction.

Satisfied she’s made her point Howin proceeds on with the lecture, failing to notice that not all of her students’ attentions had recovered from her earlier statement.

Sebastian forces his gaze away from where it had fixated on MC, but keeps them in his periphery even as class continues.

---------------------------

The Clocktower wasn’t as busy or loud as Sebastian was used to, but given it was the younger years on the roster today, he couldn’t complain about there being less spectators.

Besides, it didn’t really matter how busy it was- as long as it had attracted the attention of the one person he was looking for.

Fortunately, Natty had claimed her favoured spot on one of the upper viewing decks. Sebastian didn’t get the appeal of watching a bunch of amateurs that hardly know their basic cast from a protego duel, and he’d told Natty as much in the past, but the Gryffindor had insisted she found it interesting, so who was he to judge?

Especially when it provided the perfect opportunity to talk to her, uninterrupted.

“Surprised to see you here, from what I’ve heard shouldn’t you be raiding some Ashwinder base right about now?”

“Sebastian! It’s good to see you,” Natty beamed at him as he joined her by the railing, looking down on the Crossed Wands duel taking place, “And I believe we both know you have the wrong side of that rumour, my friend, I am not the one who raised as Ashwinder base.”

He shrugged, keeping his tone light, “We both know there’s no way you were an innocent bystander, Natty.”

Sebastian liked Natsai Onai, teaming up with the transfer student on a few occasions in their fourth year during Crossed Wands- her taste for adventure could rival that of his own, something she no doubt had been drawn to in MC, in not a dissimilar way as he had. But their friendship was tentative, Sebastian knew the Gryffindor’s opinions on magic differed greatly from his own, with a propensity for black-and-white thinking so typical of members of the lion house.

There were lines Natsai Onai wouldn’t cross, which he’d never cared for in the past, but knowing now that she was engaging with dangerous enemies and dragging MC into it, likely ignorant to just how in-danger their mutual friend was- a pit formed in his stomach with the knowledge Natty wouldn’t do what was necessary in the heat of battle, she’d let MC die if it meant never using ‘dark’ magic.

Worse still, she’d allowed herself to be landed in such a position that required MC engaging directly with an Ashwinder camp to save her. It was a fight to keep the ire from his tone, something he’d never had to do around the friendly Gryffindor in the past.

Instead, he kept any subtle dig from bursting forth, instead regarding Natty with a sympathetic tone, “Still, I can’t imagine how terrifying that was. Are you alright?”

Natty nodded, a smile still present on her face, as though it didn’t even bother her to think of what her own recklessness could have cost, “I’m fine, really I owe my life to MC- they did not let me stay imprisoned for long.”

Yes, that sounded infuriatingly like them- rushing into danger the minute someone else’s life was at stake. Sebastian could picture it now, their impulsive rush to be the hero, not even sparing a second thought for their own safety, relying only on sheer power to get themselves through.

He took a grounding breath, reminding himself what he was here for.

“How did you end up in such a precarious situation?” Sebastian keeps his curiosity light, eyes still observing the duel taking place below them in an image of casualness.

Natty matches his nonchalance, as he’d hoped she might, he liked to think that their friendship was strong enough that she’d feel comfortable sharing the details with him. That, and he supposed the fact Sebastian had his own rumours circulating about his out-of-castle adventures with MC certainly helped, “We’ve been investigating Harlow- MC and I, for some time now- our investigation led us to some of his victims in Hogsmeade,”

The name comes to him easily. Theopholis Harlow- Rookwood’s Second in Command. Merlin , how reckless could MC get? It wasn’t enough for them to be interrupting the operations of Ranrok and Rookwood, no, of course they had to be going after Theopholis Harlow too.

He tried to keep his frustrations at a simmer, as Natty continued, “I suppose I was too reckless, I didn’t even realise the Ashwinders had noticed me until it was too late- they took me to a hidden base next to the Hog’s Head, held me and another man they were extorting in some cells in the back rooms. Even then, I knew MC would find me- our friend is quite the powerhouse,”

That , Sebastian knew, was an understatement. Still, he wasn’t sure if he appreciated Natty’s praise, or hated how she just assumed MC would come running to her aid, like putting their safety on the line was something that should be encouraged- “One moment I am pacing in my cell, the next I am hearing the distant sounds of combat, and then MC is arriving to save us. Upon our escape, I realised they had taken on the entire base on their own- defeated every Ashwinder who had been on patrol.” Natty shook her head slightly, unable to keep the edgings of awe out of her voice, “I don’t know how they did it, I almost wish I could have seen it for myself. Watching them fight is…incredible.”

Yes it is.

Sebastian could watch MC take on legions of goblins all day, wield powerful ancient magic like the extension of themself he suspects it is, commanding the elements at their will, and still couldn’t believe what he’d witnessed. It was no surprise to him that MC was capable of clearing an Ashwinder base alone, but he wished they wouldn’t.

Still, there was another part of Natty’s story that didn’t quite fit, that Sebastian couldn’t make sense of no matter how hard he tried.

Why wasn’t Natty dead?

Ashwinders weren’t known for their mercy, they had killed and tortured their way into power over local hamlets indiscriminately- male or female, child or adult, none were spared the mercy of the Ashwinders if you had dared to get in their way. Natty should have been killed the second she was spotted prying into their affairs.

So why wasn’t she?

The question wrapped tight around his mind, the final piece of the puzzle he just couldn’t fit the picture together without.

This conversation had been pointless, leaving him only with the same questions as he’d started with.There was only one other person Sebastian could think of that might have any answers for him, and by Merlin , if they were still talking he wouldn’t have even gone to all this trouble in the first place-

His thoughts are interrupted once again by Natty.

“You and MC are close…right?” Her voice is low and quiet, hesitant in such a way he is completely unused to hearing from the normally self-assured Gryffindor, “You were with them in the Three Broomsticks when Rookwood came after them.”

His focus sharpens immediately at the slip of vulnerability, he almost forgets to reply, “Yeah, I remember.”

Natty nods, but doesn’t turn to look at him, her gaze distant even as she looks down on the next Crossed Wands match. There’s none of her usual excited interest in her now-distant expression. Sebastian waits, and soon after Natty continues.

“After we escaped MC..MC asked me not to tell Officer Singer or anybody else about- well, I don’t want to betray their trust. But I haven’t stopped thinking about it, I can’t stop worrying and…and I know you’re both close-”

Warmth rushes through his body as the muttered admission, the reminder of how he and MC were widely-acknowledged amongst the school for how close they had become- he’d not missed the way his former Herbology partner had silently made way for MC one day in class, or the whispers from his roommates when they don’t think he’s listening.

All the more indulgent now, that it seems they are considered close enough for Natty to divulge MC’s secrets to him.

Sensing Natty’s hesitation, he urges her on, “I worry about them too, wish they’d tell me more so we can keep them safe.”

It had been the right thing to say, Natty nodded absently, “I-yes, me too. You deserve to know- the Ashwinders, they only captured me in an attempt to gain information on MC. When I wouldn’t tell them anything they- I…I believe they were using me to lure them in, as a trap.”

Sebastian’s breath catches in his chest, the final puzzle piece falling into his lap, ready for him to piece together.

Rookwood and his Ashwinders were after MC. He knew that, Natty knew that, Merlin, Sebastian would bet everyone in Hogwarts knew that by now- but what Natty was talking about was something entirely different.

Capturing a Hogwarts student to lure their rescuer in, interrogating Natty for information- that took intent, it took desperation and more importantly, forethought .

“I was lucky MC rescued me when they did, any delay and I-MC could be- I overheard-” A deep, shuddering breath, horror laced Natty’s words when she spoke next, hardly above a whisper, “They were on their way. Rookwood and Harlow.”

His head snapped around to stare at Natty before he could stop himself,

“You’re sure?”

“It was the first thing the Ashwinders did after taking me, contact Harlow.” Natty’s voice was solemn, “I have been so foolish , Sebastian. If I’d known they were so desperate to get to MC-

“Did you hear anything else? Why they are after MC?”

“No, but Rookwood and Harlow have given direct orders to all their followers- to capture MC on sight.” Natty sighed, unmoved by Sebastian’s sharp attention. A testament to how deep her worry ran, “I am not the only one who has concerns, Poppy Sweeting heard the same whispers among Rookwood’s Poachers. But when she tried to warn MC-”

Sebastian knew the ending to this particular tale, a familiar bristle of frustration swelling in him as he completed her sentence, unable to keep the bitterness from his voice, “They brushed it off.” Reckless. Disregard for their own safety. Ignorant.

“I am worried for them, Sebastian. You didn’t hear how desperate the Ashwinders were- and MC, it’s-it’s like they don’t even care . I could not keep this a secret- I figured if anybody could get through to them, it might be you.”

“You did the right thing, Natty. I’ll handle this, trust me, I won’t let any harm come to MC.”

His unwavering conviction seemed to settle some part of Natty’s worries as she sighed, suddenly looking as exhausted as Sebastian had been feeling, she offers him one final smile, looking far less burdened than she had for this entire conversation, “I know you won’t, let me know if there’s anything I can do to help. You’re a good friend, Sebastian.”

And with that, Natty was gone, leaving him alone on the upper platform, free to let his thoughts finally come together, finally letting his earlier thrill of realisation overwhelm him.

The mere possibility of getting to MC had been enough to demand the immediate attention of two of the region’s most dangerous dark wizards, to summon them to Hogsmeade and abandon whatever other terror had been occupying their time. Not even he had seen such a sense of desperation coming, and yet everything Natty just told him had confirmed all of Sebastian’s earlier suspicions.

This went far beyond a simple alliance of convenience with Ranrok. Rookwood had his own plans where MC was concerned, and while the thought should terrify Sebastian, should fill him with the same torturous images as he suffered with the recollection of how Goblin Loyalists were targeting MC, it doesn’t .

Natty’s earlier words, whispered like some torturously painful secret, felt like guilty relief to his mind, ‘capture on sight’ .

Someone who wanted MC dead wouldn’t have their followers going to such great lengths to capture them- there would be blasts of the killing curse flying in MC’s direction every time they entered the battlefield, not convoluted plans to lure them into a trap.

No, Rookwood had plans for MC, and they depended on MC being alive.

And it was no mystery why , even some moonmind hit by the confundus charm could figure that one out.

Rookwood knew about MC being able to use the Ancient Magic, he had to, and if that were true then there was no chance he would deliver MC to Ranrok if he got his hands on them first. There was no chance death would come for MC, if they were under the hold of Victor Rookwood.

In fact, Sebastian would bet Salazar’s relic that the moment Rookwood had secured MC, a way to access the Ancient Magic, his alliance with Ranrok would fall apart- hopefully, with the Goblin dead at Rookwood’s wand.

With a sudden lurch, Sebastian pushes himself away from the railing he’d been leaning against, acid burning in his throat as his train of thought caught up to him, what he’d actually been considering-

Victor Rookwood was a dark wizard, an evil, conniving bastard who led an underground crime ring built on corruption and extortion. Merlin, Sebstian lived in one of the Hamlets that fell under Ashwinder territory, his neighbours were victims of their rule of terror- he’s heard about the kind of things Rookwood’s people did to those who wronged them, the cruelty and depravity that none were above sinking to.

There was no corner of the Scottish Highlands that the Ashwinders had not conquered, no rival crime ring that hadn’t been either recruited or all-too-quickly eliminated. They answered to no one, their victims too terrified or too under their control to speak out.

And if Ashwinders were cruel, then Victor Rookwood was even worse.

But he’s not afraid to backstab , a traitorous part of Sebastian’s mind whispered, He’s strategic, he has greater plans than this .

For all his cruelty and depravity, Victor Rookwood was smart. Smart enough to build a criminal empire from a measly local crime ring- the kind of ambition that spoke to greater plans, a hunger for power that extends beyond the simplicity of the Scottish Highlands. Cunning like that meant a want for a challenge , and Sebastian had heard whispers of Ashwinders spotted in other Wizarding towns- the beginnings of expansion.

Yes, Victor Rookwood was smart- smart enough to realise MC had more use to him alive rather than dead.

In spite of himself, Professor Howin’s earlier words resurfaced in his mind, louder than they had been all day.

“Even the most agile of creatures can be caught off-guard, especially if their predator is cunning enough- their natural self-defence tools won’t always be enough.”

Rookwood was smart in a way the goblins weren’t. Ranrok would kill MC the moment he realised they would refuse to tell him how to access the stores of Ancient Magic, blindsided by hate he’d slaughter them where they lay trapped.

“What is better, an upset Unicorn, or a dead one? What is a little bit of unhappiness in the short term, if it means they stay safe in the long term?”

But not Rookwood. No, Rookwood has lofty ambitions, a hunger for power- and he’d do anything to get there.

That much, Sebastian knew he could trust.

That much, he could work with.

------------------------

The ambient chatter of the Slytherin Common Room felt like a soothing blanket with the crackle of the fireplace, as he and Ominis sat in comfortable silence, lost in their respective textbooks.

Things between Sebastian and his best friend had been tense recently, they’d been bickering more than either of them were used to, terse words exchanged got increasingly heated in the days after Ominis had followed him to the Catacombs- but with MC’s intervention, it had been easy to move past. Ominis didn’t ask him about the relic, and Sebastian spared him the details, in moments like this it felt like everything would work out for the best. For now, this was enough.

Still, the familiar comfort of reading in the Common Room with Ominis wasn’t enough to settle his mind. With a frustrated huff, Sebastian slammed his textbook shut, resisting the urge to hurl the offending item to the floor, words a mess of squiggles behind his eyes.

To his side Ominis hadn’t so much as flinched, used to the petulance of his friend by now, and merely paused his wand from where he’d been scanning the Herbology textbook, raising one eyebrow.

“Honestly Sebastian, if you’re still so upset about your fight with MC perhaps you could try, oh I don’t know, talking to them? Merlin forbid, apologising ?”

The scathing tone was nothing new, nor was Ominis’ preference to take MC’s side- he had a tendency of doing that, Sebastian hadn’t forgotten how quickly Ominis folded in the Catacombs with just a few words from MC- pathetic, they just had to bat their eyelashes and suddenly Ominis didn’t have a word to say against them. And now here he was, taking MC’s side over his best friend of five years.

Ridiculous. Ominis didn’t even know what happened, what gave him the right to comment? Even worse, to take their side?

“Drop it already Ominis, I have nothing to apologise for.”

“ That , I sincerely doubt.”

Sebastian grit his teeth as Ominis’ perfectly calm reply, forcing himself to settle his frustrations, “You wouldn’t be so quick to defend them if you knew what they-” He took a deep breath, “Can we not, talk about this again? Besides, that’s not even what’s bothering me-”

“Oh?” At this, Ominis seemed to perk up slightly, “Then what is it? It’s got to be important, to stop you moping about MC.”

He wanted to argue, he had not been moping, but the need to talk won out, needing to clear his head.

Going to speak, Sebastian hesitates, the words dying on his tongue. He can’t tell Ominis what’s really on his mind, knowing ‘furious’ wouldn’t even begin to describe whatever response he’d get in reward for his candor- Ominis’ unrealistic moral principles and bias for backing MC withstanding.

“I just- I can’t stop thinking about something Hecat said in Beasts Class today.” Close enough to the truth, “Is it right to keep a magical creature in captivity, even if it’s for preservation?”.

Ominis frowned, “ That’s what has been bothering you? If it's keeping the beast safe, then what’s the problem?”

He tried not to scowl at the straightforwardness of Ominis’ answer, talking as if Sebastian were being an idiot, “Well, what if they’re unhappy?”

“I’m sure Professor Howin wouldn’t keep a beast in captivity if it wasn’t absolutely necessary, Sebastian,” That was a tone Sebastian was familiar with, and sure enough when he’d turned to look. Ominis was rolling his eyes, “At least this way it’s getting taken care of.”

“Oh yes , taken care of. What, for students to ogle at them, to be used for their magical features.”

“I don’t know much about Howin, but I doubt a Beasts Professor is motivated by greed, besides even if she was- would that be so bad? She wouldn’t be hurting the unicorn, and at least it will be safe here at Hogwarts.” Ominis paused, for a moment lost in thought, before he continued, a wrinkle of worry lining his forehead, “I hear Poachers have been getting increasingly troublesome recently.”

The veiled implications are not missed on him, Sebastian has the feeling he isn’t the only one aware of MC’s recent exploits in the Highlands, the expansion of their enemy list they seem ever-ignorant to think about.

In the past, when Ominis mentioned MC’s exploits, it was always Sebastian’s job to defend them, insisting they were capable of handling themselves out there, that they’d ask for help if they needed it. Beliefs he was struggling with more and more with each adventure he joined them on.

“How can Howin know that what she’s doing is right?”

Ominis’ head tilted slightly at his words, momentarily struck by the sombre tone. Uncertainty was never a good look on his impulsive best friend, “I suppose she can’t know- not for certain- but the Unicorn is safe now isn’t it? Nobody is going to harm it here, so she’s doing something right.”

He let the words wash over him for a moment, assured by the conviction in Ominis’ words- despite their recent disagreements, he could always trust Ominis to be honest with him. And if Ominis, one of the most virtuous people he knew, felt Howin’s actions were justified, then…

His thoughts are momentarily broken as Ominis speaks up again, voice notably quieter than before, “Are you sure that’s all, Sebastian? It’s not like you to get caught up on something so fickle.”

Fickle? Like any of what he was dealing with right now was even close to fickle .

Still, he was touched by Ominis’ obvious concern. They’d always been able to read each other so easily, something that had become more of a hindrance than help to Sebastian in the past year, with Ominis interfering with his every plan made towards a cure for Anne. No matter how deeply he wished he was able to talk to Ominis about this, he knew his best friend was beyond understanding.

“I’m fine, Ominis, it’s just been a long week.” A lot on his mind, ever more so now.

“Well, if you insist.” The false lightness of his voice wasn’t lost on either of them, nor the slowness of Ominis to pick up his wand again and continue reading, as if hoping Sebastian might change his mind.

The silent gesture is lost on Sebastian as his mind finally catches up with him, flickering heat of the fireplace burning its image on the back of his retinas as conflict rages a war within him. The urge to pace is unbearable, but the last thing he has the energy for is more of Ominis’ suspicion.

MC is a free spirit, he knew that, just as he knew how much they hated Victor Rookwood, but what else could he do?

What could he do against their blind ignorance to the danger they’re in, carelessly throwing themselves in the path of goblin loyalists and countless other threats, depending on raw talent and reckless fervour to come out the victor. Someday, Sebastian knew raw power wouldn’t be enough.

They’re endangered, yet they keep insisting on fleeing the safety of the Castle walls to invite trouble, throwing themselves to the line of fire even as the threats against them become more incensed, ever more determined.

Ranrok Loyalists. Ashwinders. Between the two, Sebastian knows which side he’d prefer to see win. He also knows there’s only one side which MC is likely to stay alive with. Against such stakes, why should he worry about anything else?

Mind made up, he pushes himself to his feet with renewed vigour, book nestled under one arm, “Well, I’m turning in, you coming?”

“No, I’m going to finish this reading first on dittany. You know, for Garlick’s essay- the same one you have? ”

“I’ll do it later.”

“It’s twenty inches Sebastian, you need to pace these sorts of things out!”

“Yeah, well I’m tired tonight.”

“ Tired ?” Ominis paused, likely realising the same thing he had- that Sebastian hadn’t been eager to sleep for weeks now. For a moment, Sebastian worried he was about to get questioned further on why the sudden change in spirit, fortunately, Ominis dropped it just as quick, “Well, I suppose you do need the rest, don’t think I haven’t noticed you nodding off in class.” What a hypocrite , he bit down on a witty retort, not wanting to antagonise Ominis any tonight, “I’ll see you up there.”

“Night, Ominis.”

Leaving the chatter of the Common Room behind for the silence of his dorm room had been a dreaded exchange for weeks, the quiet unable to defend Sebastian against his racing thoughts in the same way gossiping housemates and stray spells could- but tonight, he had no such wish to drown out his thoughts.

Lying in the plush four-poster bed, curtains drawn around him, Sebastian welcomes a new distraction, the familiar thrill of a plan unfolding before his eyes. It wouldn’t be without its challenges, he knew that, but if everything went to plan- if he was right about his, about Victor Rookwood- then the fears that had plagued him for weeks, the images that burned behind his eyes whenever they landed on MC- it would all be over, they would be safe .

He had to be right about this.

Lost in a whirlwind of careful schemes, moves and countermoves playing over and over in his mind, it’s hard to tell when the lul of sleep finally takes over- plans fading to black, fitful nightmares taking their place.

------------------

Taunting jeers sounded across the encampment, sounding over the blasts of magic and clanging of steel weapons, hurling down in flashes of obsidian red.

The target of their ire standing in the middle of it all, eyes gleaming in the heat of battle, was MC.

Hair whipping around them from the sheer might of their power, grin wide on their face as they effortlessly dodge another incoming blade, turning back just in time to pull from the might of the skies, another enemy fallen at their wand.

They were a deity of battle, the picture of beauty even amongst the drudge and viciousness of the battlefield, bodies at their feet, twisted grimaces of their enemies in their face. They were untouched by it all, above them in both image and power.

Until suddenly, they weren’t.

Without warning, the sea of goblin loyalists became an overwhelming tidal wave, ethereal blue swallowed by tainted red, all that could be heard was a single piercing cry, tortured and desperate, as MC fell to their knees. A plea, and for a moment, just a moment, he hears his name -

“Sebastian!”

Silence rang across the encampment.

Impossible to tell if a minute had passed or hours when the red sea parts, the scene changes, or maybe it stays the same. What does it matter, whether goblins outline the perimeter, or aren’t there at all, it’s all a blur against the picture of a broken figure in the dirt, held down with chains of goblin silver.

All he can see is MC, lying in the ground, battle-worn and weary, bruised and beaten from hours of torment, blood dripping from a mark on their temple. The urge to wipe it away, to sweep them into a protective embrace is overwhelming-

Footsteps echo across the empty cavern mine? camp? and MC’s head raises- eyes wide and alarmed, snarl across their lips as their attacker approaches, instantly recognisable to them.

Even in memory, he recalls this face.

Ranrok stares down at MC where they are held at his feet, blood red eyes glinting with promised malice, loathing written plainly across the goblin’s features.

One clawed hand wraps around an axe, long and sharpened, Ranrok raises it above his head and prepares to swing down

MC doesn’t move, they watch the blade with wide eyes, tear tracks cut paths down their face that hadn’t been there moments before. In the next beat they should struggle, start fighting- but they don't. Silently, their head bows in acceptance.

What happens next is inevitable, has played before him a thousand times, but he’s too far away, he can’t reach them- why can’t he reach them ? Damned only to watch, helpless to do anything, powerless to save MC, and yet he can’t close his eyes, even as the axe falls, death cuts through the air and a broken cry waits to burst from his chest-

A streak of grey shoots across the scene, seconds later the axe embeds itself in the empty earth where its intended target had just been lying.

In its wake follows a rage of fire, swallowing the goblins whole.

Breath stolen, the new image burns itself into his memory, in an explosion of fire all other possibilities are reduced to ashes.

The snake binds around MC’s frame to keep them kneeling in the ground, slitted red eyes survey the desecrated area, poised to attack, ready for whatever enemy next crosses their path. Perceiving of threats in a way its prize was not.

MC’s eyes suddenly ablaze and the flush of life hot in their cheeks. Any sign of earlier torture gone from their skin, which almost shines with magical potential, their delicate blue brushing against deep grey scales.

The Ashwinder holds MC tight within its coils, now, finally , safe against any blow that may be raised against them, no matter how much they desperately fight in its hold.

#hogwarts legacy #my fics #hogwarts legacy mc #sebastian sallow #seb means so well but he doesn't always DO well alright #has this been collecting dust in my wips for months now? yeah and what of it #(jk i am so very ashamed)#don't you love it when a whole fic revolves around one scene idea and that idea ends up being the ENDING of a PART TWO #pain #also yes the fic title is from a tswift song and no i don't listen to tswift and for some reason this felt like a moral conundrum for me #who had a worse moral conundrum: me naming this fic or sebastian sallow deciding to do....well what he's about to do #posting pt 1 because although i've started writing the second i'm not sure when i'll finish it #finding motivation to write in this fandom is difficult to say the least?? so apologies if this ends up forgottn i suppose

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compacflt · 1 year

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okay here to pick ur mind…i know you’ve alluded to it throughout WWGTTAI and debriefing but do u think bottoming is something that i’ve struggled with throughout his relationship with mav-especially if he enjoyed it-bc it may have been “more gay” in his mind and therefore harder to excuse due to the inherent misogyny wrapped up in men’s homophobia? it’s something we’ve talked abt in my gender studies classes so i just wanted to know how you think your ice may have approached that due to the repression of his sexuality so throughly and for so long!

as always with questions like this there’s a diegetic (in-universe) answer and a non-diegetic (writing theory) answer so I’ll start with the diegetic answer (not tagging this as nsfw but obv refer to the subject matter & discretion advised):

he isn’t thinking about it. I mean, he has to think about the mechanics of it, because sure there’s a lot of prep work involved, but he’s not really thinking about what it means, because no one’s telling him to. He knows it’s “wrong” —but the whole thing is “wrong,” anyway! The fact that he’s doing anything with Maverick is already wrong... I think he categorizes things as “not-fucked-up” and “yes-fucked-up” in his head, and any form of non-societally-approved contact with another man is “yes-fucked-up,” and there’s not really a sliding scale. Which is why Maverick’s weird extended hug thing right when Ice leaves TOPGUN (ch.4? I forget) is like literally the biggest deal in the world to him. I think Maverick could’ve actually groped him and he would’ve responded the same way. It’s all fucked-up, in his head. No difference between hugging/kissing/fucking/being fucked; it's all the same. There are the rules, and then there’s breaking the rules—no gray area in Ice’s mind (though note, in turn, Maverick’s analysis of Ice bending the rules—there is a gray area, just an unacknowledged one).

So, yeah, he isn’t really thinking about the implications of the specific act. Maybe he knows that he enjoys it, and that thinking about what it means that he enjoys it would ruin it, so he doesn’t think about it. Also, he’s operating under the unspoken assumption that there’s something “wrong” with Maverick and not with him, because remember that Maverick already confessed to engaging in same-sex acts in ch. 4. There’s something fundamentally “wrong” with Maverick, so anything Ice does automatically looks better in comparison, because (he thinks) his transgressions are isolated incidents, whereas Maverick’s are a known pattern—even if Ice’s “transgressions” amount to literally being fucked by another guy. Hey, well, at least I’m not as bad as rule-breaker Maverick, who does this all the time, apparently!

In Ch. 8 I was kind of trying to harp on that fact with the use of the word “resentment” during Ice’s discussion of choice/free will—there is kind of a sense that Maverick did this to him against his will, as in, he wasn’t “yes-fucked-up” until he met Maverick/this whole FWB-situation started, and maybe there is some deep-seated resentment about the fact that he might have been “normal” if it weren’t for Maverick (he wouldn’t have been, but he doesn’t realize that). I was close to having him just say this outright in Ch. 8, but as I’ll talk about below, their relationship is already pretty toxic, and there were some lines of toxicity I didn’t want to cross explicitly.

As for the non-diegetic answer, AKA the reason I wrote it this way: I’m kind of hesitant to politicize sociosexual (esp. “hierarchical”) roles in fiction, because I feel like it’s an easy way to betray your own political biases (as a writer) towards male sexual roles—it’s just too slippery of a slope IMO. Especially once you introduce ranks and professional/financial power dynamic differences, I feel like it’s all-too easy to portray the relationship as incredibly and toxically sociopolitically unequal. Yeah, I guess it would make more sense for very-closeted Ice to top 100% of the time, but he’s already “hierarchically” above Maverick 100% of the time anyway—politically, professionally, financially, in terms of social respect, etc. I didn’t want their dynamic to be skewed all the way towards one character having all the social/external/traditionally masculine power, so I didn’t write it like that. That in and of itself is a political decision that betrays my beliefs about male sexuality, and might not make sense in-universe, with characters this repressed, but…I personally felt uncomfortable with the alternative.

I think I’ve explained this a couple times elsewhere, but I wanted Ice & Mav to be true equals in this fic, because it reflects the equality they achieve in canon— “You can be my wingman anytime” vs. “Bullshit, you can be mine.” They are canonically equals. And, yes, of course in a sexual relationship you can be “giver” or “taker” and still be “equal” with the other person, but—like, you see how it would be different, right? If you’re only ever the “giver,” in our society’s traditional understanding of gender roles, you have an insane amount of power over the other person, and I wanted Ice & Mav to be equals when they’re with each other. It’s why I was hesitant having like an actual D/S dynamic with them as well—and the lack of that dynamic is itself a plot point. Ice in ch. 8 rebels against what he thinks their dynamic is—namely, that Maverick always leads/gives the orders, and Ice always follows. He portrays himself as submissive in that moment (“I’ve never had a choice”), but in reality he has just as much control over this relationship as Maverick does—i.e. he is just as “dominant,” and wants it just as bad, he just can’t articulate that. Which is the point of his whole character arc. Their equality is the point, not the transgressiveness of the act itself.

Also related to his character arc is the passivity of the act of bottoming as well, which is maybe why it's "overrepresented" in the story (sorry coming back to add this graf after doing the tags already &then Having A Thought). Like if Ice's whole thing is following orders/not having a choice, which makes him a great naval officer but a deeply flawed and confused person, then it makes sense that his narrative focuses most on the following/passive act of "taking," not necessarily the more leading/active role of "giving." These are simplistic terms obv but hopefully you can see what I'm getting at.

#& i think honestly i rebelled so hard against the idea of ice stereoptypically ALWAYS topping/'giving'#that i maybe OVERrepresented him ‘taking’ in my writing #just bc it was like ‘oh ofc ice would top🙄’ so i wanted to do something different #which then turned into him bottoming all the time LMFAO that was NOT my goal #they are verses ok that’s what im trying to say here #bc at least with each other they need to be on an equal playing field #asks #edts notes #But thank you for the ask! most of this also stems from the fact that as a writer im just…bad at writing smut/#characters talking about sex so i avoid it when i can & fade to black as much as possible #doesnt make me uncomfortable im just bad at it lol #especially in 3rd person (i usually write in 1st)#too many pronouns/name repetitions #and i abhor epithets & smut is the only time i use epithets to avoid overusing names #but my hatred of epithets > my desire to write smut so i don’t do it #which then leads to conundrums of clarity like this

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