Archive of Our Own ^beta

Sebastian’s birthday is tomorrow. His birthday being on All Hallow’s Eve made perfect sense to you when you found out. In some way, you wondered if that was why he was so…well, devilish. Sure, he was your very best friend, but damn was he difficult. 

That’s what brought you here: to the library. The Restricted Section, to be exact. You hadn’t spent a second in the rest of the castle that day, having been there since sunrise. Scribner had reluctantly allowed you into the library, only relenting because you pointed out that the sun had risen, despite it being 6 AM. 

When you wandered to the Restricted Section, she tried to stop you until you pointed out to her that if you were doing anything sketchy, you would’ve just snuck in after curfew. She made to argue, then sighed and nodded, and you were giddy with your success. 

Typically, when Sebastian—sometimes with you tagging along—had ventured into the Restricted Section, he’d go deep inside to find answers and such that he was looking for. However, a book had caught your eye the last time the two of you were there, right near the entrance. 

It had one of the runes you had seen while on an outing—if you could even call them that with how arduous they were—with Sebastian on its spine. It was scratched into a wall near where you found the first piece to the triptych. 

You had been searching for ages, not remembering the exact place you saw the book. For the love of Merlin, you had been there for two hours already. Sure, you’d found a couple of others that looked intriguing to the cause as well, but not the one you saw that night. 

You were just about to grab another interesting looking one when you were whirled around, expecting to see Scribner, but were instead faced with a fuming Sebastian Sallow. 

“What are you doing here?” he asks with a glare. Your eyes widen and you back yourself into the shelves with a nervous smile. 

“Hi, Seb!” you try to play off casually. His glare deepens and he points at you in an accusing manner. He liked to talk with his hands, which you found endlessly endearing, although it was being accompanied by his anger this time. 

“Don’t you do that,” he chides sassily. “I’ve been looking for you all morning! And here you are in the Restricted Section of all places! Without me! And in broad daylight?” He asks, his voice climbing with each word. You reach out and place your hands on his shoulders. 

“Shh, Sebastian, just stop,” you say softly, trying your best to avoid Scribner seeing Sebastian in the place he causes trouble in. “I’m sorry. I should’ve told you.” Your lie works, and he nods as he sticks his nose in the air haughtily. 

“Damn right you should’ve,” he says, almost pouting. You sigh and let go of his shoulders, looking off to the side, and see a glimpse of the book you’ve been searching for. It’s a dusty blue, and the rune on its spine is in gold. You gasp excitedly and grab it, and Sebastian looks at you in confusion. “Sorry, I must’ve missed something. What is that?”

“Oh, uh,” you say shyly as you mentally curse yourself. “Professor Fig asked me to grab it. Ancient Magic things. I don’t really understand why, yet. He said he’ll show me.” Sebastian hums in interest and nods, and you nearly sigh in relief at both your swift recovery and the fact that he doesn’t recognize the rune, which is also plastered on the front cover. 

“Well, now that I’ve found you, it’s time to go,” he says bossily. You scoff with a small grin and tilt your head at him as you cross your arms. Sure, you’d do practically anything he asked, but you never let him walk all over you. Especially when it got to his head enough to make him the sassy, bossy thing he became sometimes. 

“Who are you to order me around, hm?” you quip back. He turns to look at you as he runs his tongue across his bottom lip, something he does when he’s annoyed, and shoves his hands in his pockets. He tilts his head, mirroring yours, and rolls his shoulders back. It’s a very simple reaction from him, really, but god does he look good doing it. 

You’d never admit it, but Sebastian when he was annoyed was one of the most attractive things you’d ever seen. 

“You went on a little solo mission without your partner,” he said with an irritated grin. “Your partner says it’s time to go, so you’re going.” You gasp with a smile and poke at his chest. 

“You’re jealous,” you read him easily. He rolls his eyes and pokes his tongue against the inside of his cheek, then grasps you by the wrist and begins to pull you with him out of the library. 

“You always have to make things difficult, don’t you?” he asks in a grunt. You laugh and slip your hand from his grip to walk beside him, and he surprisingly allows it. “I would’ve gone with you. You didn’t ask.”

You hear the disappointment laced in his tone and look at him as you walk, but he doesn’t meet your gaze. His eyes are steely as he stares ahead. 

“I really am sorry, Sebastian,” you say gently. “This Keeper stuff is—”

“Not my business? Yeah, I figured that out,” he says coldly. You stop walking and look at him with a mix of confusion and irritation. Leave it to Sebastian to make everything about himself. Either it was that, or he just simply couldn’t stand the idea of you doing anything without him. But that couldn’t be possible. 

“That’s not what I was going to say,” you say firmly. He stops and turns to look at you, and you expect anger on his face, but there’s only hurt. 

“That’s what it feels like,” he snaps back. You narrow your eyes at him, frustrated, because of course he’d say that. Of course he’d be selfish. 

“It’s not exactly a cake-walk for me,” you return, your tone icy. He barks a laugh and levels you with an unimpressed look. 

“Oh, please,” he says in annoyance, “you handle all of it as if it’s beneath you.” Your jaw hangs open at his presumption and you look at him in shock. Sure, Sebastian had a tendency to be an arse, but usually never so horribly where’d he’d stoop low enough to actually cut you.

“You,” you say through your teeth as your chest heaves from how irate you are, “are pathetically ignorant.” You spit at him, ensuring you enunciate the last part, as he had called you the same thing before. 

His eyes widen, then harden, and you don’t want to hear another word from him. He had the nerve to say such things over you going into the Restricted Section without him? Absolutely not. Before he can speak another word, you grumble another insult under your breath and stalk away, bumping into his shoulder harshly as you pass him. 

No one was allowed to walk all over you and spit on you. Not even Sebastian Sallow. 

The book burns in your hands, and you need to get it out of your grasp immediately. You make your way back to your dorm and toss it carelessly onto your bed. 

So much for doing something nice for that stupid bloke’s birthday. 

You pull at your hair and groan loudly as you contemplate kicking your bed frame, but decide against it, knowing you’d kick it hard enough to hurt. Rarely anyone ever managed to get under your skin like Sebastian did. Like he does. 

You huff, realizing it’s nearly time for Potions class, and trudge your way out of your dorm, still positively fuming. And, as if Merlin has some rancid sort of humor, Sebastian will be there. And you’ll be able to feel his glare burning holes into your skull. 

You finally push your way into the classroom and rush over to your table without so much as a greeting look to anyone else in there, and you begin to furiously organize your desk as you wait for class to start. 

Damn Sebastian and his stupid words. 

You feel a poke on your shoulder and your eyes flutter shut, hoping to every being above it isn’t him, and when you turn, you feel your shoulders relax. 

Garreth Weasley is there with a sympathetic smile. 

“Hey,” he greets cautiously. You sigh and give him a polite smile back. 

“Hey, Garreth.”

“Rough day?” he asks, his tone still gentle. You nod, and he frowns. “I’m sorry. Noticed you bursting in here and your robes flitting about as though you were flying with how quickly you made your way over here. Figured you could use something friendly.” You feel your smile soften at the kind gesture. 

“Thank you,” you return with a sigh. “Just…got upset this morning.” Garreth raises a brow and cranes his neck. 

“Wouldn’t have anything to do with Sallow over there, would it?” he asks curiously. “He looks especially brooding today.” You huff a laugh at his perceptiveness and nod reluctantly. 

“He’s the culprit,” you confirm dryly. Garreth leans in with mirth in his eyes. 

“Want me to take care of it?” he asks cheerfully. “I’m feeling especially explosive today.” You almost consider it for a moment, then shake your head. Sebastian could be angry with you all he wanted, but you wouldn’t allow him to hex someone simply because he was pissy and someone else wanted to brighten your mood with his suffering. 

“No, it’s okay, Garreth,” you say with a laugh. 

“Alright, alright,” he returns with a laugh of his own. “Just don’t get too down, okay? You’re too good for that.” Your smile softens and you pat his shoulder good naturedly. 

“Thanks, Garreth,” you say earnestly. He nods proudly and saunters back to his table, and you feel the inevitable. Sebastian’s glare.

You look over to his station and see him looking at you with all the fire of a thousand suns, his fists clenched so hard they’re shaking and his knuckles have gone white. 

It pisses you off. 

“Grow up,” you mouth at him, then turn back to your station as Professor Sharp approaches the front of the classroom, his expression as stoic and bland as ever. 

Class drones by, and you make your potion swiftly, your anger with Sebastian fueling your productivity. 

As soon as you finish, before everyone else of course, Sharp tests it and is pleasantly surprised at its success, then allows you to leave early. You nod thankfully and stride out, happy to be out of a room with Sebastian in it. 

You begin to wonder where Ominis is, since Sebastian’s anger could possibly be over something else entirely that you’re not privy to. 

He’s usually making his way from the Undercroft to his first class by now, so you make your way toward it to hopefully intercept him. 

Sebastian wouldn’t tell Ominis about his feelings over anything, of course. Nothing significant, at least. But trivial things, he would. And even if he didn’t tell Ominis, the boy could see straight through him despite being blind, anyway. 

You manage to catch sight of him about to go through the doors to the courtyard and call out his name as you rush over to him. He stops and turns with a small smile as you approach him. He says your name back, and you can’t help but smile at how soft and cordial he is. 

“What’s gotten you out of Potions so early?” he asks. You sigh. 

“Finished a brew early, Sharp let me go,” you explain curtly. “I have to ask you something.” He raises his brows and tucks his arms behind his back. 

“Okay,” he says imploringly. “I’m listening.” 

“Is there any particular reason Sebastian would be increasingly irritable today?” you ask, resisting the urge to be feeble about it once you remember how rude he had been. Ominis snorts and shakes his head. 

“Is he ignoring you?” he returns as if he didn’t expect it. “He was rather angry this morning that you didn’t show up at breakfast. Left in quite the storm.” You sigh and roll your eyes. 

He really was only angry because you had gone and done something without him. 

“I was in the library early this morning searching for something for his birthday,” you say with a sigh. “He found me there and nearly lost his head that I had done something without telling him.” Ominis snickers. 

“Of course he did,” he says under his breath as if it were obvious. “Leave it to Sebastian to show his jealousy in peculiar ways.” You raise a brow and shrug. 

“But why would he be jealous?” you ask, not comprehending. Ominis levels you with a look and shakes his head. 

“Because how else is Sebastian Sallow going to feel when the person he’s practically glued to does something without even telling him?” Ominis asks as though it made perfect sense. 

“I don’t know, maybe treat me like a human being who has independence?” you ask as you toss your hands up carelessly. 

“In his mind,” Ominis explains carefully, “that’s a sign of you pulling away from him.” He blinks, then turns and walks out into the courtyard without another word. You stand there staring at the doors Ominis just left through, confused and bewildered. 

Sebastian thought you’d just ditch him that easily? Discard him?

Then, you remember his uncle. His family. Your heart sinks. All Sebastian has known is loss. It’s nothing you’ve done, it’s hardwired into his brain. 

“Oh, no,” you mumble under your breath as your brows draw together. 

You move to walk toward the Undercroft to wait for Sebastian to inevitably show up, but you’re tugged back by the shoulder of your robes. You turn around to see Sebastian. He’s irate. Fuming. Raging. 

“‘Grow up’?” he practically growls. “That’s what you say to me when you’re the one talking to Garreth Weasley as if he’s the most interesting person in the universe?” You can’t find it within yourself to even be angry. You look at him delicately, your face morphed into understanding and guilt. 

“Sebastian, I—”

“Shut up!” he seethes as he crowds into your face, his cheeks burning red with his searing anger. “I don’t want an excuse! You laughed with him like—!”

You can’t take it anymore. You cut him off as you shove yourself into his arms and wrap yourself around his torso and squeeze him tightly. He jumps and stills. 

“I’m so sorry, Sebastian,” you say softly. He doesn’t move an inch. “I wasn’t trying to leave you. I swear. I never would.” He relaxes a bit, but his arms still hover in the air. 

“What?” he asks, his voice a hoarse rasp. You squeeze him tighter, and all you can think of is young Sebastian: no parents, living with an uncle who disapproves of him, and a sickly sister. Fighting tooth and nail to keep anything good he has. 

“I’m sorry,” you repeat. “I didn’t mean it. I know you didn’t, either.” He fully relaxes and his arms hesitantly wrap around your back, resting there in a ghost-like embrace. 

“Oh,” he replies softly. It’s silent for a moment, but he breaks it. “Why were you there without me?” He asks it timidly, and his arms tighten around you. You pull away slightly to look up at him, hating the way his worry makes his brows crease. 

“I’m so sorry, Seb, I want to tell you,” you say earnestly, your eyes boring into his. “But I can’t just yet. I promise, though, you’re going to see soon.” You say with an excited grin. He raises a brow as the corner of his lips quirk up into a small smile. 

“Oh, will I?” he asks curiously. You nod ecstatically. “I have a feeling it didn’t actually have anything to do with the Keepers.” You shrug casually and pull away from him fully. 

“Guess you won’t know for a bit, will you?” you ask playfully. He narrows his eyes at you, wrinkling his nose despite his smile, and you can’t help but notice how adorable his freckles look when he does it. His expression softens and he looks at you shamefully. 

“I didn’t mean any of that earlier,” he says bluntly. You nod. 

“I know,” you reply honestly. 

“You don’t act like anything is beneath you,” he says firmly. “Not even me. But—and don’t you dare let this go to your head—you are. Above me, that is.” You snicker and shake your head. 

“I’m only as good as I am when I’m with you,” you say, and despite your laughing, it’s true. It seems to fully assuage the jealous worry that you know was still clinging to him. 

You make sure to spend the rest of the day alongside him, ensuring he has no room to worry about you leaving him. Hopefully, he never will again. But if he does, you’ll be there to whisk it away with a vengeance, since you know what it looks like now. 

That night, after you retire to your dorm room, you sit at your desk by the window and open the book to scan through anything that could be useful—pleading that something will be—for Sebastian’s birthday. 

The title page rips a gasp from you that you have to cover considering your roommates. 

The author was Isadora Morganarch.

Of course, you knew she had written journal entries. But a whole book? 

You begin to read it with wide eyes, discovering something entirely new. Something that could absolutely be the best gift you could give to Sebastian. 

Oh, your gift was so going to beat Ominis’s. 

You hardly slept a wink. Maybe two hours. The second you woke, you snatched the book off your desk and headed down to breakfast, where Sebastian and Ominis were likely waiting for you. 

You tuck the book, which you hastily wrapped in some parchment, into your satchel and practically run down to the Great Hall. 

You burst through the doors and make your way over to where the two boys sit, laughing as they eat their breakfast. You sit next to Sebastian, practically vibrating in your seat. 

“Happy Birthday!” you say excitedly as you shake him by his shoulders. He nearly chokes on his food and grabs your arms firmly to stop you from shaking him. 

“Merlin, you’ll kill me,” he chuckles as he swallows the bite of food in his mouth. “Thank you. You seem more excited for it than I am.” You eagerly fill your plate and begin to shovel the food into your mouth, and Sebastian watches you in amusement. 

“I have the best gift for you,” you say between bites. “Ominis, I’ve kicked your ass this year for sure. And it’s my first time celebrating with him!” You tease playfully. Ominis scoffs and points his fork at you. 

“The best gift Sebastian could receive, as well as receive from me, is my presence,” he says smugly. You snort a laugh and nod. 

“That’s true,” you return, playing into his antics. Sebastian pulls something from beneath his collar and reveals it to you. 

“He got me this,” he says proudly, showcasing a rectangular pendant with an engraving of a snake in the shape of an “S”. “My father used to have the same one. Sallow token.” You soften and look at Ominis with a proud smile. 

“Ominis, that’s such a beautiful gesture,” you commend him. “That actually could beat my gift.” He preens and continues eating as he hums gratefully at the praise. 

“So where is it?” Sebastian asks with an expectant grin. You shake your head. 

“Not here,” you chide gently. “I planned on showing you in the Undercroft. Easier that way.” He raises a brow at your response. 

“What’d you get me, an arse beating?” he asks, referring to your frequent friendly duels there, and you bark a laugh before shaking your head again. 

“Nope,” you say as you continue to eat. Luckily, it’s a Saturday, so you don’t have to worry about any classes. “Whenever you’re ready, we can head there.” Sebastian shrugs, then shovels down the rest of his food, not hiding his eagerness at all. 

“I’m ready now,” he says as turns to you expectantly. You point to your plate, still half full with food, and he rolls his eyes. “Well hurry along, then!” He crosses his arms impatiently as you continue eating, and he flicks your shoulder when you slow down on purpose. 

Once you finish, you turn to Ominis. 

“You coming with?” you ask him. He shakes his head with a soft smile, almost as if he knows something the two of you don’t. 

“I don’t think so,” he replies coolly. “I plan on visiting the owlery to send a letter to my mother.” You shrug, then stand and gesture with your hand for Sebastian to follow. 

You can’t bury your smile the entire way there, and it makes Sebastian all the more curious as to what you’ve gotten him. 

When you reach the Undercroft, you rush over to the triptych, and he raises a brow at you. 

“The triptych?” he asks. “What about it?” You tuck your arms behind your back and nearly bubble over with excitement. 

“Remember when we found the first piece to this?” you ask, and he nods, his brows pulled together, not following. “When I grabbed it, I noticed a rune scratched into the wall beside it. I didn’t think anything of it, but the last time we snuck into the Restricted Section together, I saw the same rune on a book near the entrance.” 

A sly grin finds its way onto his face. 

“That’s why you were there yesterday,” he says, putting the pieces together, albeit missing a few. You nod excitedly and pull the book from your satchel, then hand it over to him. He goes to open it, but you stop him, and he looks at you in confusion again. 

“Wait,” you say softly, and he obeys. “I started reading it last night. I had a bit of a suspicion, and I was right, but I found more than that.” His lips move to question you, but you shush him again. “Isadora wrote it.” His eyes widen and he looks down at the book, then back to you. 

“I thought she only wrote journal entries,” he breathes. You nod and can’t help the smile on your face. 

“Me too,” you reply with a small laugh. You’re silent for a moment, then swallow. “Sebastian, I read a bit of it. Trying to see if I could find anything useful. I found it. I found out how to help Anne.” He looks at you in awe and his lips part. 

“What?” he asks in disbelief. You reach across to unwrap the book for him, but he doesn’t move to open its cover. He only stares at you. 

“Isadora’s methods for removing pain with ancient magic are questionable, especially with the byproduct of it,” you say with a sigh. “But, she found another method. It’s a potion that can only be brewed by an ancient magic wielder. It breaks down the pain when ingested and dissolves it, then it’s attacked by white blood cells. Like a common cold.” 

Sebastian is staring at you with wonder and awe, and the book shakes in his trembling hands. You feel meek under that gaze, having never expected to see one even close to it on his face. 

“Happy Birthday, Sebastian,” you say softly, your voice hardly above a whisper. The book clatters to the floor, and before you can register anything, Sebastian’s hands are cupping your face and his lips are mashed against yours. 

You’d heard of people mashing grateful kisses onto others when they were grateful, but you knew those were chaste and quick and friendly. This is not that. Sebastian is kissing you softly, languidly, his lips moving against yours with a passion that you hadn’t expected in the slightest. 

You don’t know how to react. At all. You return it, but aren’t sure what it means. Is it gratefulness? What is it?

You feel wetness trickle onto your cheeks, only to realize that Sebastian is crying. 

Sebastian Sallow is crying. 

He is weeping. 

You shove him away gently to look at him, worry etched into your features as your arms grip onto his shoulders and squeeze. 

He looks at you with that same expression from before, except now it is laced with desperation. He breathes shallowly and his eyes bore into yours, bloodshot, with tear tracks on his freckled cheeks. His shaky hands trace circles on your cheekbones with his thumbs. 

“Please,” he begs, his voice breaking and hoarse. His eyes flicker down to your lips and stay there as his lower lip trembles. “Please, please, please.” 

He’s pleading with you to kiss you again. 

And who are you to deny the boy you’d give anything to?

You surge forward, your hands grabbing his face, and pull him into another kiss. One of his hands holds the back of your head gently, and his other arm snakes around your waist and holds you tightly against him. He kisses you just as softly—lovingly—as before, but this time you respond in kind rather than confusion. 

He holds you as though you’re precious, delicate, and you can’t help the feeling of your heart exploding in your chest at how gently he’s handling you despite his typical day-to-day behavior. 

He pulls away slightly to press his forehead against yours, still weeping, and his thumb brushes against the hair at the back of your head tenderly. 

“I didn’t think I could fall any more in love with you,” he admits in a whisper, his lower lip still trembling from his tears. “I’m sorry, I couldn’t help it, I just—I can’t ever let you go now.” You gently wipe his tears from his cheeks and he leans into your touch with a shuddering sigh. 

“What, ‘cause I’m the key to all your problems?” you joke. He shakes his head fervently, your foreheads still pressed together, and looks at you firmly. 

“No,” he says with conviction. “Because you’re such a beautiful person. You didn’t get me a physical gift that I would’ve cherished either way. You gave me relief. Out of everything you could’ve gotten me, you gave me peace.” Your chest squeezes at the sound of his voice breaking at the end, and you brush the stray hair from his eyes. 

“I just couldn’t bear to see you in pain anymore,” you say softly. “Or Anne.” His sad frown deepens again as his lip resumes its quivering, and he squeezes his eyes shut as he presses his forehead against yours with more insistence. 

“So does that kiss mean I win at birthday gifts this year?” you ask with a teasing lilt in your voice. He laughs wetly and pulls you closer to him with the arm around your waist. 

“It means I love you, in case you missed that,” he says quietly, his tone almost meek. You pull his face away from yours to look at him with all the adoration you can muster. 

“I didn’t,” you return softly. 

Every confusing feeling you had. Every time you wondered why Sebastian was so persistent in his attachment to you. It wasn’t just friendship. It was loving him so deeply you’d do anything to bring him peace. Anything to allow him to feel more than bitterness. 

“And what do you think of that?” he asks with a shy smile. You grin and press a soft kiss to his lips, which he chases after once you pull away. 

“I think I’d like more of it,” you say, your voice hardly a whisper. “And that you’re not alone there, if that gift didn’t already say it.” He lets out a breath you didn’t recognize he was holding, and he presses his nose against yours. 

“I think I’d like to hear it anyway,” he says as though he needs it to live—to breathe. Your eyes roam his face, in utter disbelief that this was waiting for you all from a birthday gift. You look at him the same way he looked at you earlier, with the same wonder, awe, and desperation. 

“I love you, Sebastian,” you breathe out, and it’s the easiest thing in the world. “I’ve always loved you.” He shivers and leans forward to kiss you again in an instant, like those words flipped a switch inside of him. 

He kisses you hungrily, while simultaneously gently. Each press of his lips are backed with pressure, but moving leisurely, as though you’re too precious and special for anything other than that. 

Of course Sebastian Sallow would prize you over everything. Of course he would be gentle with you and brazen with everyone else. 

You were the real gift that day, and he made sure you knew it.