Ashes and Dust

Sometimes she wished she could freeze time. 

The warm body at her back her contrasted to the cold stone beneath her. Strong arms wrapped around her midsection, pulling her tightly to him, as if even in sleep he feared she’d bolt at the nearest opportunity. Ash’s face nuzzled against the side of Sebastian’s neck, breathing in his scent with every inhale. 

Sometimes she wished she could freeze time. 

Ash let her eyes flutter open, and her vision met with a curly mop of hair. She felt her heart thumping in her chest at their proximity, at his warmth, at the scent that invaded her nose. His breathing was deep and even, and as she pulled her head softly away from his neck, she saw his eyes were still closed. Her gaze swept over his face as he slept. She took in the mess of hair at his forehead, the sharpness of his jawline, the plumpness of his slightly parted lips. Her fingers twitched at her side, aching to run across the freckles speckled across his cheeks and nose. 

She'd never been one for astronomy, but she could spend hours seeking constellations across his freckled skin. She wondered if Imelda had memorized the patterns. The thought made her sick and she turned her attention to the wall in front of her. 

She couldn't remember the last time she had slept so soundly; no nightmares, no faces of her past plaguing her dreams. The magic in her veins even felt like a simmer instead of a boil. She tilted her head down, her attention on his hands holding her against him. She wondered if he still could feel the blood he'd spilt slipping between his fingers. She could. She felt as if she was drowning in the crimson that painted her lithe digits. 

She traced a finger across the veins on his hand, a featherlight touch, one meant not to awaken him. His skin was so warm under her fingers, so warm that she wondered if she died last night from how chilled she felt to her core. 

Sebastian’s grip on her tightened and he shifted behind her. Her fingers stilled against him and his deep breathing resumed. She didn't want him to wake up, didn't want to pull herself from his grasp. Once she was sure he was asleep, she resumed idly tracing her fingers along the back of his hand. 

The silence enveloped her and she tried to shuffle through her scrambled thoughts. The poachers had silver. 

Harlow had silver. 

Dread coiled in her gut. The only silver she had encountered in fifth year was goblin silver. Silver that was used used to control ancient magic— or at least that was Ranrok's plan. She took the magic from the repository for this reason— because she knew it would never end. 

What was Harlow after? 

She felt Sebastian stir behind her and a groan left his mouth as he woke up. Ash pulled herself from her thoughts and halted her fingers' movements against his hand. She fought her disappointment as he moved an arm from around her waist to grab his wand. He quickly flicked it, the candles in the room instantly lighting again. 

"How's the pain?" 

His voice was low and husky, and it set her nerve endings on fire. She cleared her throat and tried to focus on the stack of barrels against the far wall, "Practically gone."

He let out a breath that fanned across the back of her head and she turned to look at him. His face was inches from hers, a fact that was lost on her last night in the midst of her exhaustion. She fought to keep her eyes focused on his, and didn't dare let them flick towards his lips. 

"Good."

He murmured the word out as he stared at her, his gaze flickering around her face— no doubt taking in the blood still splattered across it. He moved his hand from her side, and slowly lifted it towards her face. He traced his thumb across a blood stain on her cheek, and she felt her heart hammering in her chest. He pulled his thumb away with flecks of dried blood stuck to his skin. 

"You need a bath." His lips twitched upwards as he spoke and she huffed a laugh. She opened her mouth to retort but he continued in a murmured tone as he moved to rub away a patch of dried blood from her chin, "Professor Sharp might have questions if you turn up to potions with bloodied and torn clothes."

His touch lit her skin on fire and it took all of her restraint not to lean into it. She shouldn't be this close to him, and yet he seemed none the wiser to the effects he was having on her. 

His words caused her brow to furrow. Potions. She couldn't skip her classes today, not after skipping yesterday. She would most certainly receive another owl from professor Weasley if she did and she dreaded the disappointment written in that letter. 

Ash let out a breath and looked down at herself, at the dried blood coating almost every inch of her skin. A bath was an understatement.

"I need you to repair my leathers, I don't want to scandalize the entire school." She gave him an amused smile as she spoke and her fingers danced along the frayed edges of her ripped shirt. 

He nodded and she pushed against his wrists as they braced her waist. She stood easily, only a small twinge of pain at her newly scarred ribs. Sebastian followed, a hand still holding her waist as he grabbed his wand.

She was acutely aware of her bare back, of his fingers splayed on her hip, of how close he stood as he murmured the incantation. She felt the overwhelming urge to pull from his burning touch but resisted as she felt the fabric of her leathers stitching together. He was so close, his breath fanning against her neck as the spell fell from his lips. 

As the fabric finished repairing Sebastian hesitated, his fingers gripping her waist softly, before he quickly dropped his hand to his side. The absence of his touch almost burned more than the lackadaisical traces of his thumb. 

She stared down at the dark blood underneath her nails, "Thank you." She murmured the words, letting the walls of the Undercroft soak them up. What was she thankful for at this moment? The repair of her clothing? The first full night of sleep in years she had gotten in his arms? Saving her miserable life maybe, though she wouldn't have blamed him if he had simply left her on the ground last night. Maybe then she wouldn't have so guilt ridden for his kindness. 

He didn't answer, and instead stepped around to face her. Her eyes stayed fixed on the caked blood and dirt under her fingernails until she saw his hand reach for her. She snapped her attention to him as his thumb brushed her chin again, rubbing against the stubborn blood staining her skin. His brown eyes bore into hers, and she held her breath.

He dropped his hand almost as quickly as he had touched her, and looked her over from head to toe. 

"I'll see you in potions." 

His words woke her from whatever trance she had fallen into at his touch and she nodded, her voice still stuck in her throat. He turned and left the Undercroft, his own hands still caked in her blood. 

She stood in the silence for a moment longer, her eyes drifting around the room. She could still feel his phantom touch brushing against her chin. She glanced at the pensieve, her memories of fifth year nearly choking her at the sight. 

Her eyes moved to the small chalkboards strode around the room, Sebastian's messy scrawl littering the black canvas. She didn't dare look at the back wall though she still heard her cracking voice, still saw the pain in Sebastian's eyes. His kindness felt like a knife in her gut. Being offered tenderness felt like the very proof that she was ruined. 

She turned and left quickly, stopping only to palm her wand and whisper a vanishing spell under her breath as she stepped over the large blood stain near the entrance. She doubted Ominis would appreciate her blood soaking the stones of the Undercroft. She doubted he had wanted her to venture down there ever again. 

She kept her head low as she made her way quickly to the Room. It was early enough that she saw few students, and she didn't raise her head to see if they took in her disheveled appearance. The moment she passed through the archway she saw a large copper tub filled with bubbles waiting in the center and a shudder of relief washed through her. 

She couldn't remember the last time she'd had to scrub so throughly. It seemed no matter how many times the Room refilled the tub with clean water, she continually colored it red. It didn't surprise her, her hands were so blood-stained that she never felt truly clean. 

Her fingers ghosted over the new scar on the back of her ribs, the thick flesh snaking up her skin meeting with a much older mark further up her back. She quickly yanked her fingers away and went back to scrubbing what looked like brain matter from her hair. 

It took three baths before the water ran clear and she pulled her now pruned body from the tub. The tub vanished as soon as her feet hit the floor, and an assortment of breakfast items appeared on her small table. A fresh button-up and trousers popped into existence on the back of the couch. A small smile swept across her face. 

She knew the Room's conjurations were simply the requests of her mind, and yet the Room had always felt alive in some way. Like a caring sentience that not only provided what she wanted, but also what she needed. 

She swiped a blueberry tart and held it in her mouth as she pulled the button-up over her shoulders, her nimble fingers making quick work of her red tie. 

A brush appeared on the table beside her and she rolled her eyes, "No time for that." She mumbled as she held the tart between her teeth. She slipped into the trousers, fastening her wand holster to her thigh. 

She shoved the blueberry tart down her throat and reached for a strip of bacon as she headed towards the door. Her eyes caught on the growing collection of scorch marks along the walls and she sighed. How long until she lost herself again? 

She pushed through the door and popped the bacon into her mouth as she quickly made her way through the castle. Her pace was rapid as she descended towards the dungeons, her fingers running through her damp blonde hair to remove at least some of the tangles.

She slipped into the potions classroom and slid into her seat right as Sharp exited his office and began the lesson. 

"Today we will be discussing the creation of the Befuddlement Draught..."

She barely heard his words as she looked up from her cauldron and met Sebastian's eyes. He was still sitting in the seat across from her, rather than at Ominis' table. He gave her an assessing glance and raised an eyebrow before quickly penning a note and sliding it across the table. She glanced at Sharp who was demonstrating the correct amount of stirs for the potion before she looked down at the note. 

-Any pain?

She smiled softly at his messy scrawl before scribbling her answer and sliding it back across the table. 

-No pain. Glad you were prepared with Wiggenwelds. 

He smirked as he read the note and she saw him quickly write something back before the note was back in front of her.

-One of us has to be. 

She shook her head softly as she smiled down at the note. She looked up at Sebastian who was watching her with an amused expression. She quickly pocketed it as Sharp walked closer to their table.

"This concoction should be handled with extreme care, it is not a potion to be taken lightly..."

Sharp limped around the room as he spoke and Ash drug herself back to reality as she turned her head from the table beneath her hands. Natty was beside her, her focus on Sharp's instructions though when she noticed Ash's attention she smiled. She should make an attempt, Natty deserved that. Ash gave her a soft smile back before she leaned over to whisper to her. 

"I'm sorry I disappeared at the Slytherin party the other night."

Natty shook her head, her attention snapping back to Sharp as she whispered, "It is not a problem at all, did you have fun at the party?"

Ash swallowed hard, memories of swirling potions and sweaty bodies pressing to the forefront of her mind. Why did she even bring up the party? Her eyes flickered over towards Sebastian and then to the empty seat beside him and she blinked in surprise. Garreth wasn't here. 

She quickly scanned the room, her eyes darting to the bored faces as they listened to Sharp explain the properties of copper versus iron cauldrons when brewing potions. She caught sight of the red curls across the room— next to a very disgruntled Ominis. She tensed as she saw the annoyance written on Garreth's face, her eyes drifting to the death grip he had on the edge of his cauldron.

"How much has been said about me that night?"

Ash murmured the words, her eyes still focused on Garreth across the room. Natty tensed slightly and her eyes moved from Sharp's retreating figure to hers. 

"Well... there are rumors you spent the night in the Slytherin dorms."

Ash bit her lip. She didn't meet Natty's eye as she whispered softly, "Did you hear that from Garreth?"

Ash saw Sebastian tense in front of her, though his attention stayed locked on his cauldron. 

"No," Natty hesitated before she continued, "Imelda."

Ash fought the urge to glance over at the brunette girl sitting at the far table. Imelda? Her magic roiled in her gut at Natty's words. She clenched her jaw to push it down into the abyss inside her.

"Everyone is more focused on what happened between Sebastian and Garreth if it makes you feel any better."

Natty's soft whisper brought her from her thoughts. She dared a look towards Garreth again, her magic a dull simmer in her veins as she calmed herself. Garreth was stalking towards the potions closet behind her. She quickly looked back down at the table as he brushed behind her. 

Her eyes glanced upwards, just a peak at Sebastian who was staring at Garreth as he walked past. His jaw was set, his eyes filled with a dark emotion she couldn't make out from her quick glance. She remembered how he looked when he walked into the Room of Requirement that day— a black eye, split lip, and a smug smile across his face. 

"Was it bad?" 

"It was not pretty." Natty whispered as she started pulling out her necessary ingredients for the potion, her hands working efficiently as she kept her eyes focused on professor Sharp, "Though Garreth seemed more phased by whatever Sebastian whispered to him than the fight itself." 

Ash's eyebrows furrowed at her words and she opened her mouth to respond—

"Miss Cendrillion I suggest gathering your ingredients, the potion will not produce itself."

Ash snapped her eyes to Professor Sharp and her cheeks burned as she saw his attention fixed on her. He gave her a disproving look, and she quickly stood from her seat and made her way to the potions cabinet, ignoring the snickering she heard around the room. Seems her professors’ leniency was coming to an end.

She opened the closet door right as Garreth pushed out. He didn't even look at her as he shouldered past, though his jaw was clenched. She stepped out of his way, and fought the urge to look over her shoulder at him as he stomped across the room. 

She didn't know why she cared so much, why her stomach tightened into a knot at his dismissiveness. He had discussed intimate details of their exploits with his friends, had never bothered to notice how she hated when he called her by her full name, and failed to see how much of a shell she had become since fifth year. 

And yet, it stung deeply. 

She moved into the potions closet and began grabbing ingredients as she fought against the urge to leave class and drown herself in firewhiskey. There was a fresh bottle on the second shelf of her bookcase, she could pop it open and forget about this rutting class. She had lost one vice, maybe she should go indulge herself in a another one. 

Her fingers reached towards the top shelf, grasping for the sneezewort just out of reach. She muttered under her breath and grabbed her wand, the twisted wood warm in her hand as she lifted it towards the flowers. 

She heard the door open and shut behind her but she paid little attention to whichever classmate had joined her. She opened her mouth to mutter the charm when she felt a presence press close against her back and reach up to grab the flowers. The smell of parchment crashed into her senses right as he pulled the sneezewort down from the shelf above her and stepped back. 

She turned to face him and shoved her wand back in her thigh holster. Sebastian smirked as he held out the jar of flowers to her. She didn't take it and instead stared him down as she felt her frustration gnawing at her. 

"What did you say to him?"

Sebastian let the hand holding the flowers fall to his side and he rolled his eyes, clearing knowing exactly who she meant without hesitation. 

"Did I need to say anything to him? I'm sure sending him to the hospital wing was enough of a message."

His tone was filled with annoyance and he turned to the side and began plucking other ingredients from the shelves. 

She crossed her arms over her chest, "Natty saw you lean down and whisper to him before Professor Ronen sent you from the room."

He paid her no mind, and inspected a vial of leech juice. She stepped closer to him and snatched the vial from his hand.  

"She said Garreth's face practically turned white even under all the blood." She whispered harshly to him, her voice steady despite the her nerves clawing up her throat. A lie, or an exaggeration at least. But Natty had said whatever Sebastian mentioned had pissed Garreth off more than getting his face bashed in. “What did you say?"

He snatched the vial back from her and pocketed it before turning back to face the shelf. 

"It's none of your concern."

She glared at the side of his head. She had told him before that this was not his fight, it was none of his business. Her fingers tightened into fists at her side. 

"He won't even look over at—"

She considered saying me, but she stopped herself.

"—our table."

"Good," He snapped. He turned from the shelf and faced her fully, his stare drilling holes into her. "You really want to know what I said?" 

He set the jar of feathers on the shelf without breaking eye contact with her, "I told him that if he ever so much as looked at you again, not even the healers at St. Mungo's could put him back together. I told him your little trysts were done. That I’d skin him if I ever heard your name out of his mouth." 

She blinked a few times, her mind empty of any response. She just stared at him, her eyes scanning his face. 

"You'll have to find someone else to satiate yourself with, preferably someone who doesn't have such a big mouth."  

He turned from her and went to leave the closet. His words snapped her from her stupor and she felt anger burning under her skin. 

"What, someone like Oliver Lockheart?"

She let the words spill from her lips, her tone dripping with snark. She wasn’t sure what game she was playing at, what reaction she was attempting to pull from him, but the words had fell from her mouth before she could think. Sebastian’s jaw clenched and he turned back to face her. 

"I'm not playing matchmaker for you, Cendrillion."

"You won't play matchmaker but you sure as hell want to play bodyguard."

She spit the words out and stepped closer to him. She didn't know why she was fighting with him. She should be grateful that he stopped Garreth from spilling intimacies about her. She should be grateful that he saved her bloody life last night. And yet, she couldn't stop herself.

He stepped closer to her, their bodies almost touching at this point. His breathing was heavy, and she saw how he ground his teeth together as if to stop himself from saying anything else. The air in the closet seemed to warm drastically, the temperature practically stifling as she stared up at him. Her tongue darted out to wet her lips as she tried to think of something to say and his brown eyes flickered down her face to her lips as he watched the movement. 

Her breath hitched as she saw where his attention was. Her thoughts were nothing but static as she felt his breath fanning her face. Her own eyes betrayed her and she let her gaze settle on his lips. She could hear nothing but the pounding of her heart in her ears as his breath fanned over her mouth—

The door pushed open and she jumped away from him and faced the shelves, steadying her hands by grabbing random potions ingredients. Sebastian continued to stand exactly where he was, his eyes fixated on the back wall. 

Cressida pushed into the tiny closet and she reached up towards the middle shelf, grabbing a jar of frog brains. Her eyes flickered between the two of them and Ash dared a glance over to her. Cressida gave her a small smirk before quickly turning and leaving the closet. 

Ash turned her attention back to the vials in front of her and busied herself with grabbing them. The silence stretched around them, suffocatingly thick. What just happened? She opened her mouth to break the excruciating silence—

"I'll meet you in the Room after class, we need to discuss the next steps.” His jaw tightened again, "If you don't want me fighting your battles for you then you need to remember how to fight your own."

He turned and left the closet. She stared at the door as he left, her heart still hammering in her chest. His words were lost to her, as she thought about the look in his eyes as he’d stared at her mouth.