A Slytherin Christmas
The next morning, Astoria entered the Great Hall, her mind still swirling with the events of the previous night. The warmth of Sebastian's embrace, the way he had held her so tightly, the silent comfort they had shared—it lingered.
As she approached the Slytherin table, her gaze instinctively sought him out.
Sebastian was already looking at her.
A slow, almost lazy smile tugged at his lips. His dark eyes locked onto hers, lingering, searching, holding something unspoken between them. It sent a shiver through her, not from the cold, but from the weight of it.
Astoria quickly averted her gaze, her lips curling into a soft smile despite herself. She took her seat, heart thudding, and reached for the teapot as though pouring herself a cup of tea could somehow steady her nerves.
Sebastian smirked, his gaze dropping to his plate as he dug into his breakfast, trying—and failing—to hide his amusement.
Their interaction did not go unnoticed.
“Something’s off,” Ominis remarked, closing his book with a soft thud. “It’s suspiciously quiet this morning.”
He tilted his head toward them, a smirk tugging at his lips. “Either one of you finally won a duel to the death… or—Salazar save us—you've finally admitted that you like each other."
Astoria nearly choked on her tea, coughing into her napkin.
Sebastian fumbled his fork, catching it mid-air before muttering, “Absolutely not,” a little too quickly. The tips of his ears betrayed him, glowing red.
Further down the table, Grace Pinch-Smedley went rigid, her spoon pausing mid-stir as her expression soured.
Imelda didn’t even glance up from her toast. “As long as it means I get to eat in silence for once, I fully support the development.”
Astoria shot her a glare, cheeks burning.
Sebastian coughs.
Before the conversation could escalate further, a delicate clinking of silverware against a goblet rang through the hall. Professor Weasley stood at the podium, her kind eyes scanning the students. "Good morning, everyone. As you are all aware, Christmas is fast approaching, and it is time to take down the names of those staying at the castle over the holidays. I remind you that there will be a Christmas feast for all those remaining."
The murmuring of the students filled the air, but Astoria's attention was drawn to Sebastian.
She saw the way his posture stiffened, the slight shift in his expression.
Her stomach twisted.
Sebastian wasn't going home. He couldn't.
Astoria knew better than to ask. His relationship with Anne was still estranged—he wasn't welcome back in Feldcroft.
She felt a dull ache in her chest. The thought of him, in this vast castle—alone—during Christmas lingered on her mind.
The following weeks flew by, the last-minute quizzes and assignments kept them occupied. Before they knew it, Christmas had arrived, and students were bustling about, preparing to leave for the holidays.
Astoria stood at the Hogwarts gates, hugging Natty and Poppy goodbye.
Poppy was bundled in a beige woollen coat and a beret, her Hufflepuff mustard scarf tucked snugly around her. “I can’t wait to see my Gran. I’ve got so much to tell her—especially about Highwing and the Acromantula incident. She’ll never believe it.”
Astoria grinned. “Tell her I said hello—and that I admire her nerves of steel for raising you.”
“I will!” Poppy laughed, already stepping back toward the carriages. “Just… try not to level the castle while I’m gone, alright?”
"No promises."
Natty stepped forward, her long robes adorned with intricate Adinkra patterns that shimmered in rich golds and deep greens, the morning light dancing across the fabric. She pulled Astoria into a firm hug. “I’ll write to you soon, my friend,” she said, voice fond. “And do try not to let Sebastian drag you into any more of his ‘brilliant ideas.’”
Astoria gave a dry laugh. “Bit late for that. He’s already got a whole itinerary.”
Natty sighed, though her eyes were amused. “Typical. I’ll be shocked if the castle’s still standing when I return.”
“Stay out of detention!” Poppy called as they started down the path.
“I’ll try!” Astoria called after them. Then, under her breath, “No promises…”
After one final farewell, she watched as Poppy boarded the Hogwarts Express, while Natty climbed into a horseless carriage beside her mother, Professor Onai.
Snowflakes fell softly around her.
Shivering slightly, she turned on her heel and hurried back toward the castle.
That evening, Astoria curled up near the Slytherin common room fireplace, warming her hands against the flames.
The door creaked open.
Sebastian walks in.
His black trench coat was dusted with snow, his boots heavy with frost. He didn't seem to notice her at first, preoccupied as he shook out his coat and ran a hand through his damp hair.
But when his dark eyes met hers—
He froze.
His lips parted, brows drawing together in shock, confusion—and the faintest glimmer of hope.
Sebastian blinked.
She leaned back, stretching. "Hi."
“You—what are you doing here?”
“Did you really think I’d leave my reckless, brooding best friend to sulk through the holidays alone?”
Snow was still melting in his curls, droplets trailing down the collar of his coat as he stared at her, eyes dark and unreadable.
She cocked a brow. “Close your mouth, Sallow. You’re going to catch a doxy.”
That finally pulled a sound from him—a low, breathless laugh, warmer than the fire crackling behind her. And before she could say another word, he stepped forward, grabbed her by the waist, and spun her clean off the ground.
Astoria let out a startled yelp, arms instinctively flying around his shoulders. “Sebastian!”
He just held her tighter. "Thank you."
The moment hung between them—too close, too quiet, too warm for a wintry corridor. Her heart thudded hard in her chest.
And then—
The door flew open with a groan of old hinges.
“For Salazar’s sake,” Ominis muttered, stepping into the common room. “Are you two incapable of not being nauseating for five minutes?”
Sebastian set her down immediately, coughing into his hand.
Astoria flushed scarlet. “Ominis.”
"Yes, me. And before you ask—yes, I'm staying too."
Sebastian's brows lifted. "Really?"
Ominis scoffed. "I'd rather let a Lethifold smother me in my sleep than endure my family's company for that long."
"You're so dramatic." Sebastian rolled his eyes. "Two weeks and you act like you're being sent to Azkaban."
"It's arguably worse."
Astoria laughed, warmth swelling in her chest.
As the three of them settled in, something felt right. This Christmas, they weren't alone. They had each other.
And the holiday had only just begun.
The Slytherin common room was aglow with the warm flickering of emerald flames. Outside, the snow piled high against the enchanted windows, muting the world beyond. But inside, laughter and light-hearted chatter filled the air as the handful of students who remained for the holiday gathered in a circle for their annual game of White Hippogriff.
Astoria settled onto one of the plush emerald couches, pulling her legs up beneath her. She glanced around at their little group: Sebastian, Ominis, Grace Pinch-Smedley, Crispin Burke— a first-year with a terrible poker face—and Cassia Flint, a sharp-witted seventh-year who had stayed behind to avoid her insufferable pure-blood relatives.
Wrapped gifts were piled in the centre of their makeshift circle, varying in size and shape. The rules were simple: each player would take turns picking a present from the pile and unwrapping it—or, if they fancied a gift that had already been opened, they could steal it instead.
Ominis, ever the reluctant participant, sat stiffly in the high-backed armchair, arms crossed. "This is a ridiculous tradition," he muttered, though there was no real bite to his words. "I don't see why I need to be involved."
"You say that every year," Sebastian drawled, lounging comfortably next to Astoria. "And yet, here you are. Like clockwork."
Ominis huffed. "Only because the alternative was listening to you two nag at me all evening."
Astoria leaned back into the cushions, eyeing the growing pile with interest. "Alright, who's first?"
Cassia smirked. "Let's make the first-year go first."
Crispin, looking very much like he wanted the floor to swallow him whole, tentatively grabbed a gift from the pile and tore into the wrapping. He pulled out a rather impressive-looking wizard's pocket watch—silver, enchanted to never stop ticking, and with a faint celestial glow.
His eyes widened. "Oh, this is—"
"Stolen," Cassia announced, snatching it from his hands on her turn.
Crispin's face fell. "I—"
"Too slow, darling."
Astoria bit back a laugh as Crispin slumped in disappointment. He really was terrible at hiding his feelings.
Next was Ominis, who reached for a present with mild interest. A neatly wrapped package tried together with tweed.
"Hey! You can't pick your own gift." Sebastian protests.
"Why not? At least I know it'll be useful."
"Because that's boring." Sebastian muttered.
Ominis, meanwhile, had already unwrapped his gift and held up a perfectly ordinary quill.
Cassia scoffed. "Of course. Leave it to Gaunt to bring something completely sensible."
Ominis arched a brow. "It's self-inking."
"That's hardly festive."
"It's practical. And a perfectly respectable gift." Ominis sniffed.
Astoria, suppressed her amusement "Don't worry Ominis," She smiles also reaching for her own gift "I prefer to trust my own judgement too." She had spent far too long picking something unique, and had developed a real fondness for it, especially after it spent a few nights on her nightstand. When she unwrapped it, the room collectively leaned in with interest.
It was a miniature, enchanted model of the Black Lake—contained in a delicate glass orb, charmed so that tiny mermaids and Grindylows swam through its depths, their movements casting shimmering ripples across the surface.
Cassia gasped "Dammit, I already stole once."
Astoria smirked. "It's neat isn't it."
Crispin visibly struggled with himself before he hesitantly turned to Astoria. "I—um—I'm going to steal that...please."
Astoria blinked. Then she smiled. "Of course, Crispin." She handed him the globe, amused by how he nearly fumbled it in his hands, too flustered to meet her gaze.
Sebastian, however, looked less than pleased. "Okay, my turn."
Without hesitation, he snatched the globe from Crispin's hands and swapped it with the gift he brought—a singing toad plush that, upon squeezing, let out an obnoxiously loud croak of "We Wish You a Merry Christmas."
Crispin looked utterly devastated.
Astoria sighed. "Really, Sebastian?"
"What?" he said innocently, shaking the snow globe. "It's part of the game."
Astoria frowned at him. "Stop terrorizing the poor boy."
Sebastian twirled the orb in his hands, watching as the tiny mermaids swam in lazy circles. "As I said, it's part of the game, Blackwood. And for the record, this was the best gift in the pile." He winks.
Crispin shot Astoria a helpless look, and despite knowing the rules, she couldn't help but feel bad.
By the end of the game, Sebastian had Astoria's Black Lake model, Astoria with a self-stirring Cauldron mug, Ominis with his quill, Grace with a tin of Honeydukes enchanted peppermint bark, Cassia with the pocket watch and Crispin with his croaking toad plush.
The night continued on with laughter and good-natured bickering, the warmth of the fire casting a golden glow across the stone walls. For a brief moment, Astoria forgot about the tunnels, the Keepers, and everything else looming over her.
Tonight, it was just friends, gifts, and a Slytherin Christmas.