No Matter What
Song: No Matter What — Jamie Miller
The Undercroft was quiet—save for the uneven sound of Sebastian’s breathing, sharp and broken in the stillness.
He sat slumped against the cold stone wall, head bowed, hands tangled in his hair. His shoulders shook with silent tremors, the weight of the past year finally shattering through the armour he always wore. The search for Anne’s cure. The reckless descent into Dark Arts. The loss of his uncle. The guilt that clung to him like a curse—had finally broken him.
And still—Astoria stayed.
She had no words that could mend his wounds, no magic to erase the pain that clung to him like a shadow. But she could hold him. And so, she did.
"You're more than your mistakes, Sebastian," she whispered, her fingers threading gently through his dark brown hair. "You always have been. You still are."
Sebastian let out a ragged breath, his voice hoarse. “How can you say that? After everything?”
Astoria gave him a small, sad smile. "Because I remember the boy who dragged me into the Restricted Section, swore up and down we'd get away with it—then took the fall for me when we didn’t. The one who made me laugh when I thought I couldn't anymore. The one who was willing to risk everything for his sister." She tightened her grip around him. "I miss that Sebastian. And I think he's still in there."
For the first time, Sebastian met her gaze, his dark eyes filled with a raw vulnerability she had never seen before. He didn't respond—not in words, at least. He just leaned forward, slowly, and let himself collapse into her arms. His face pressed into the crook of her neck, and for the first time in what felt like forever, he let someone hold him without pretending he was fine.
And for a long time, they stayed like that.
The two months that followed were slow, yet necessary. With Anne refusing to see him and nowhere else to go, Sebastian spent his summer holidays at the Gaunt estate. Ominis never spoke of what his family was like, but Astoria had a feeling it wasn't the warmest of homes. Meanwhile, she returned to her family, leaving Hogwarts behind for the first time since her journey began. The time away was quiet, uneventful, but it granted her something she hadn't even realized she needed—a chance to grow.
And grow, she did.
The Great Hall buzzed with the familiar chaos of returning students—laughter echoing off the stone walls, floating candles swaying overhead, and the four house tables packed with students, all eagerly awaiting the Sorting Ceremony. Plates clinked, owls hooted above, and first-years craned their necks at the enchanted ceiling.
At the Slytherin table, Sebastian slouched lazily, arms crossed, half-listening to Imelda and Nerida bicker over Quidditch teams. Beside them, Ominis sat with pristine posture, already nose-deep in a book, wand tracing a line of Braille across the page.
"Merlin's beard, this is dull," Sebastian muttered, raking a hand through his hair.
"Try reading," Ominis suggested dryly, not looking up from his book.
"I’ve read enough about curses to last me three lifetimes. Maybe you should try flying a broom instead of marrying that book."
"And maybe you should try not getting detention on the first day back," Ominis snapped. “Just once.”
Imelda snorted, but Sebastian didn’t rise to the bait. He was too busy scanning the crowd—searching for someone.
"Who’re you looking for?" Imelda asked, catching the way his gaze wandered.
He shrugged. “No one.”
But the lie tasted bitter.
Then—the doors opened again.
A subtle hush fell over the hall.
And there she was.
Astoria Blackwood stepped inside, and it was like the flickering candlelight shifted to follow her. She walked with the same quiet confidence, but something about her had changed. Tall and poised, her golden-caramel hair, longer now, flowed in soft waves over her shoulders, framing a face that had grown both softer and more defined over the summer. The teardrop emeralds at her ears caught the torchlight as she moved. The silver trim of her Slytherin robes shimmered like frost.
She had always been beautiful, in a way that was subtle and easy to overlook. But now—now she was radiant.
And judging by the number of heads turning in her wake, Sebastian wasn’t the only one who noticed.
He stared, utterly still. Breath caught. Heart doing something he would absolutely deny later.
Then her sharp green eyes found his—and lit up with something fierce and familiar.
She sauntered over, slipping onto the bench beside him with effortless ease.
Astoria smirked. "You look like you've seen a ghost, Sallow."
He blinked, quickly masking his momentary stupor with a lopsided grin. "Blimey, Blackwood. I leave you alone for a summer, and you come back looking like a bloody Veela."
Astoria rolled her eyes, slipping onto the bench beside him, a playful glint in her gaze. "You don't look too bad yourself."
"Miss me?" he said smoothly.
"I'd be lying if I said I didn't."
His grin faltered—just for a second. Then, that wicked grin returned. “The Hero of Hogwarts, admitting she missed me? Careful. I might faint.”
Astoria chuckled, bumping her shoulder against his. “Don’t get used to it.”
But the warmth in her voice told him she truly meant it.
And for the first time in what felt like forever, Sebastian felt something other than guilt and pain.
For the first time in months… he felt like he was home.