Ashes and Dust

There was screaming in her mind. In the darkness. In the cold. 
 
Always screaming. 
 
Splintered lights and sounds beyond the periphery of the darkness. Commands. Blood. 
 
Always blood. 
 
Patterns in the darkness. Lines. Curves. Eyes. Brown eyes. 
 
Lines, curves. 
 
She had to get them out. 
 
Get them out. 
 
Get her out.
 
___•___
 
Alex
 
He didn’t know what to do. 
 
It had been three days since her incident. Episode. Fucking possession. Alex didn’t know what to call it. Three days of him pacing the length of her chambers and back. 
 
He had stunned her when it happened, with the hope that when he woke her again, whatever had overtaken her would be gone. He had healed her broken and bloody nails. He repaired the scratches in the wall, removed them, and ensured the paint looked good as new. 
 
He had erased all traces of that night. 
 
But when he woke her that morning, in preparation for her training session, she began scratching the runes into her skin. 
 
It terrified him. Because it felt like she was coming back, somehow, through the cracks. Something had broken through her mind-control, and woken her from slumber. Or the effects of the manacles and collar were breaking her beyond repair.  
 
He was fucking terrified. 
 
Black had thankfully been away, preparing for Hogwarts’ graduation. Truthfully, Alex knew he was watching the ministry and preparing for the right time to send in the wraith. A final blow to topple the house of cards, in which he would then pick up the pieces. Total control, one that would require any remaining stronghold country to bend the knee or risk the wraith. 
 
It was coming. Soon. 
 
Alex had already been required to map out the ministry of magic. All entries and exits. All chambers in which the minister himself resided, as well as any member of the Wizengamot. Because it would take both, Black had said. To topple the empire. There were too many powerful people—too much old blood—in the Wizengamot to leave it unscathed. 
 
And with the wards now erected around the country, wards that Alex has been required to tamper with— when the signal is given, no one, pureblood or muggle, will be able to escape. Black would have an empire— from the cliffs of Croaghaun to Siberia. An empire to rival that of the Ottomans. 
 
Checkmate. 
 
So Black was occupied and had not been around to notice his prized possession was broken. 
 
He was fucking terrified. 
 
At any moment, Black could call upon them, and there would be no explanation for her behavior. He would require another recalibration. And Alex would hear her screaming again. 
 
He never wanted to hear that again. 
 
He glanced towards the bed, where she was currently unconscious. He had tucked her under the covers, and with her eyes closed and her body nearly relaxed, she looked like Ash. 
 
His throat tightened, and he pulled the coin from his pocket before apparating away. 
 
___•___
 
Sebastian 
 
The distant clock tower chimed six times, though the sound barely registered in his mind.  He’d been awake for nearly thirty hours now, and he had no plans to rest anytime soon. 
 
Empty potion bottles littered the floor around his feet and the couch cushions beside him. Pepper up potions, wide-eye’s, some amalgamation of both he had created last night. His graduation was happening somewhere in the castle. The great hall he assumed, transformed into something spectacular that he couldn’t care less to see. 
 
He had received a letter yesterday from Professor Weasley urging him to attend, to finish his time at Hogwarts with something positive. He hadn’t bothered responding. 
 
His bloodshot eyes scanned the text in front of him, as Ominis’ wand hovered over a book beside him. Ominis had decided to skip as well, at his own volition. Sebastian had simply murmured a quiet thanks before passing him the last book in the stack. 
 
It was their last night in the castle. They would be expected to pack and take the train elsewhere by morning. He was done with school. He had hoped—
 
He had hoped that he would have found her before it ended, so they could graduate together. It was a trivial thought, one that didn’t matter now. 
 
He knew tonight he would have to pack, his things and hers. He hadn’t touched her clothes or trunks, or trinkets once since she had been taken. No, the lower chamber, the bedroom, had remained untouched. And now he would have to break that now— that peace. That stasis.
 
Some things he wouldn’t be able to take. Her potions table, the grand piano, and the bed they spent their last nights in. Nor the animals living in the vivariums. Those would remain in the Room, cared for by the magic of the castle. 
 
But leaving any trace of her in a place he could not return— he fucking hated it. 
 
Ominis flipped a page next to him, breaking the trace Sebastian had fallen into. He stared at the words beneath him. 
 
He had finished the first-hand account from Ominis’ great grandfather on the importance of blood purity and, upon finding nothing of use, had gone through with his original intent and burned it. Ominis showed little emotion on a good day, but Sebastian saw small a hint of glee as the pages turned to ash. 
 
Now, Sebastian was working on a Latin translation of one of the last three books, while Ominis worked on another. Sebastian was reading fervently, noting anything remotely related to blood binding in his journal. He had found multiple promising rituals at first glance, which would subsequently fail once he read further into the procedures. Some binding spells were used only for property. Others for magical creatures, with the requirement that they were not sentient. Some had Sebastian nearly writing the entire spell down in his journal, only for him to read the last line, in which most spells weren’t compatible with imbued objects such as goblin silver. All in all, Sebastian was exhausted, but he could not rest until he found something without a caveat. 
 
They read in silence for hours until Sebastian nearly flipped the table as he stood rapidly, knocking his knees into the wood.
 
“Sebastian what—“ Ominis began, jumping nearly out of his skin at the sudden movement.
 
“Magister Vinculum,” he interrupted, eyes locked on the page, “The Master Bond. A blood bond tying the master of the house to magical creatures, subduing them to the master’s will. The ritual consists of a bloodletting ceremony and a verbal encantation. The blood of the master is then tied to an object on the creature’s person, usually a collar in the case of disobedient house elves. Once the object is imbued, it cannot be removed by will alone. Blood is power, blood is key.” Sebastian finished, his mouth dry. 
 
He pushed himself away from the couch, needing space to walk, to think, “Alexander said that the manacles were created centuries ago, and we confirmed it from the tome, to suppress the magic of half-bloods and muggleborns using the runes inlaid on the surface and the platinum inlet inside of it. But her kidnapper tweaked them, Alex said, for full control over the wearer,” Sebastian ran his finger over the words in the book, rereading the properties of the Master Bond as he continued, ”Blood magic would enhance the runic abilities as well as bind the wearer to the controller’s will. And because it’s goblin silver that’s imbued, the blood bonding would be stronger than if it were used on some other object.”
 
“You think that’s the spell her captor used?” Ominis asked, setting his book down on the coffee table. 
 
Sebastian nodded, working his jaw as he paced. His heart was beating nearly out of his chest, “I think the probability is high. There is nothing saying that it has to be bound to a non-sentient creature, and it even uses elves as an example of a creature used previously. It also directly references using an object for the containment of the blood magic.” He ran a hand through his hair, tangling his fingers in the nearly chin-length strands, "Regardless, this spell makes it sound as if the blood bond is the key to the manacles themselves. I’ve been thinking of them as two separate problems, because the manacles were invented first. But this makes it sound as if reversing or removing the blood bond will nullify the manacles and allow removal.”
 
Sebastian read further along the page. The incantation was listed, as well as the steps of the blood-letting ritual. 
 
Nothing about a counterspell or a potion to dissolve the blood bond. Of course, why would the master of the bond ever need to break it? He would have to create his own, work backwards from the steps listed on the creation. But should it be a potion or a spell? A spell would be more difficult to create but would likely be more specific than a potion. Perhaps both would be necessary; a spell to rival the incantation to create the bond, and a potion to nullify the blood bond inside the wearer. 
 
A burning sensation began against his left leg, and his pacing immediately ceased. Sebastian turned to Ominis who still sat on the couch, “I have to go.”
 
Ominis’ eyebrows pinched, “What? Right now?”
 
Sebastian gave a sharp nod though the blond couldn’t see it, “Yes. It’s Alexander again, he must have some information. I can tell him about what we’ve found—”
 
“You do not need to tell him anything if he cannot occlude,” Ominis said sharply, rising from the couch, “Or else you risk his master using legilimency to pry the information from his mind, which if they are a pureblood heir of the twenty-eight, it’s very likely they possess that skill.”
 
Ominis was right, Sebastian knew. He was a fucking idiot for not already thinking of that. How much information had he already given away? He would need to verify whether Alexander could occlude and if he couldn’t— well. He would figure something out. 
 
“I’ll be back.” Sebastian said, pulling the hot metal coin from his pocket. Hastings, England, etched itself across the front, and Sebastian felt the tug at his navel—
 
“Be saf—“ Ominis began, but the darkness had already swept him away. 
 
___•___
 
Sebastian landed on his feet this time and took only a moment to glance at his surroundings. Moonlight shone down upon him as he took in the ruins at his back— crumbling stones and ivy-clad walls. Some sort of castle, he imagined, now long gone. It painted a jagged silhouette against the night sky. What remained of the walls was covered in thick, creeping ivy and moss; Grass and wildflowers sprouted from the cracks in the stone at his feet. 
 
He was atop a hill, and he could see lantern light burning in the windows of the small town below. Beyond was the sea, or the Channel, as Sebastian knew Hastings was along the eastern coast. The warm wind carried the scent of salt as it brushed against his face. A few ancient oak and yew trees stood sentinel around the ruins, their twisted trunks and gnarled branches reaching towards the starry sky. 
 
He heard Alexander’s footfalls before he saw him, and Sebastian turned to face the crumbling archway, “Your mission is in England?”
 
The first thing Sebastian noticed was how gaunt Alexander looked. Purple painted the skin under his dark eyes, and his fingers drummed incessantly at his legs. Sebastian stepped forward, “What’s happened?”
 
Alexander let out a breath, and for once he looked less like a soldier and more like a kid not much older than Sebastian, “It’s not a mission— not yet anyway. I’m here under the guise of checking the wards around the country. Which I did. Already. My master wants them impenetrable from both sides at a moment's notice, for his grand finale. And they are ready, and you need to be ready for an attack on the ministry soon— it’s all— all about to happen. Checkmate— game over. But the warning isn’t why I’m here—“ 
 
Alex sucked in a breath after he finished his nearly unintelligible rambling. He met Sebastian’s eyes, “Something is wrong with her.”
 
Sebastian’s stomach dropped, and he forced a breath through his clenched teeth, “What? What do you mean something’s wrong with her? What happened?”
 
“I don’t know. But she’s lost it. I don’t know if it’s a long term effect of the manacles or if she’s trying to fight against them—“
 
“She’s fighting against the blood bond?” Sebastian thought back to the way she looked on the rooftop in Switzerland. The way her eyes had been a deep red, and the metal around her throat had glinted in the morning sun. The way he swore she had looked right at him despite his disillusionment. Was she trying to escape on her own? 
 
“I don’t know,” Alexander snapped, “I don’t know what caused this-this episode. It started a few days after we got back from Bern. She started— fuck— she carved runes all over her chamber walls with her fingernails, and she wouldn’t stop when I told her to stop—“ he ran a hand down his face, once, twice, “— I had to stun her, and when I woke her up, she tried to scratch the runes into her skin.”
 
His panic seemed to seep into the air, a tangible thing that turned the briny wind into something sour and fear-filled. Sebastian had never seen him as anything but stoic—unfeeling, if perhaps a bit angry. But this— this loss of control made Sebastian’s throat tighten. Sebastian didn’t get a chance to question Alexander’s words, his statement that Ash had been carving runes into the walls and herself.
 
“If our master sees her like this, he will recalibrate the bond….It hurts I told you— it hurts her when that happens, and then she’s wiped clean again, and I always have to clean her up afterwards, and I don’t want to—“
 
He cut himself off. A resolve settled over Alexander’s face as he tried to calm himself, and Sebastian saw a hateful twist to his mouth as if Alexander were attempting to convince himself that despite being here, telling these things to Sebastian, that he still hated her. That he needed to get himself together. 
 
He stepped closer to Sebastian, enough that the moon shined on the sweat beading at his temple, “You have to— have you made progress? On getting her out?”
 
Sebastian stared at him. Stared and stared, the words on the tip of his tongue, but he had to know, ”Can you perform occlemency?”
 
“What? What the fuck are you—“
 
“You have to be able to occlude. If that fucker who took her finds out any of this, of you talking to me, of my plan to get her out— you are fucked, and so is she.” Sebastian said, hating that he was having to talk about this and not about her, “So I’m not telling you shit if you are just going to fuck everything up.”
 
He had already fucked everything up. Sebastian fought against the desire to shove his wand through the soft spot under Alexander’s chin. How fucking dare he be upset about her condition when he is one of the reasons she was taken in the first place. It was hard, hard to remember that he was here to help her when he had grabbed her arms that day and taken her from Sebastian.
 
Alexander sneered at him, but Sebastian had begun to notice his tells. The way his jaw twitched when he was furious, or the way his brows fought to pinch together when he was nervous, as they were doing now, "Unfortunately, my master skipped that lesson.”
 
“Rookwood didn’t teach you?” Sebastian spat the words out, and regretted the hateful question as soon as it slipped past his lips. This wasn’t why he was here, he wasn’t here to pick a fight— not with someone who held all the cards. But fuck, if he didn’t want that fight—
 
Alexander tensed, each muscle in his body rigid. He looked murderous as his face twisted, “My uncle didn’t get the chance. He was tortured and murdered by—
 
“He wasn’t some fucking saint,” Sebastian snarled. If Alexander was going to be a stupid fuck, then Sebastian needed this fight. He couldn’t stop himself from continuing as he pictured Victor Rookwood’s spiteful face, “He tried to kill Ash multiple times. He cursed my twin sister, and now she’s rotting away in a hospital bed. Everything he got, he deserved, and you would do right to remember that if he was alive now, your sister would be in worse condition that she already is.” 
 
“He was my family,” Alexander hissed, shoving Sebastian backwards. 
 
“She is your fucking family.” Sebastian yelled, shoving Alexander back. “She loved you, and you betrayed her. And for what? Some uncle who only wanted you for your usefulness? To be some pawn?” Sebastian shoved him again, “Because that’s what you are, a fucking pawn. You sold her out for a seat at the table. How has that worked out? Are you planning missions? Leading armies? They’ve given you nothing. You aren’t a power player, you aren’t the king or a knight or even a fucking bishop. You are the sacrifice play. And the only reason I haven’t killed you is because you are my only chance of saving her.”
 
Alexander stared at him, hatred burning in his onyx eyes, “Are you done?”
 
Sebastian stepped back, “I’m bringing someone next time you send for me. He can teach you occlemency. Try not to get yourself killed in the meantime.”
 
“If our master sees her—“
 
“Then don’t let him see her.” Sebastian snapped, “Find a way. Be more than a fucking pawn for once.”
 
Alexander stared at him for a moment more, his throat bobbing, before he disapparated in a swirl of black. 
 
Sebastian stepped backwards until he felt the crumbling wall of stone behind him. He slid against it, falling to the ground as a numbness washed away the rage inside of him. 
 
She was trying to fight the bond. 
 
He shouldn’t have been surprised. She was a fighter, it was in her blood. 
 
He looked up at the night sky.  His weary eyes flickered to Scorpio and Ursa Minor and then to her favorites,  Andromeda and Perseus.
 
 
She curled closer against his body on the blankets they had strewn about the Room, pressing their bare bodies together. She lifted a hand and pointed up at the skylight, “That one there, you see the A shape? That’s Andromeda. Story goes she was a princess, who was chained to a rock in the sea by her parents in order to stop a monster from ravaging their homeland.” Her voice was a mere whisper against his skin, “That constellation? The one next to the A that looks like a witch’s hat, that’s Perseus. He’s a hero, a monster slayer. One day he’s flying over the coast—“
 
“He could fly?” Sebastian interrupted, his face half buried in her hair. 
 
“Of course he could fly. He’s a hero.” He could practically hear her eyes roll, and he smiled against her head. She continued, “So he’s flying over the coast and sees her chained to the rock and sees the monster about to kill her. The moment his eyes land on her, he falls in love. He asks her parents if he can marry her if he destroys the monster. I suppose they agree because he slays the beast and saves the princess, and they, minus a few setbacks, live happily ever after.”
 
He snorted, “Romantic. Was she naked when she was chained to the rock?”
 
Ash turned her face up to him, scowling, “Why does that matter?”
 
“Just answer the question.”
 
She narrowed her eyes, “Yes. She happened to be naked.”
 
Sebastian smirked, and ran a hand over her bare hip, “Well then, no wonder he fell in love so quickly.”
 
She smacked his chest, though Sebastian saw a smile fight to break across her face, “Don’t you dare ruin my favorite constellations for me.”
 
Sebastian snatched up the offending hand and pulled it to his lips, delighting in the pink that colored her cheeks as he pressed kiss after kiss to her knuckles, “Wouldn’t dream of it, love.” He released her hand, only to roll her underneath him, receiving a yelp of surprise on her part. He looked down at her, his own Andromeda, as her hair splayed around her head like some sort of halo. The words he wished to say stuck in his throat. Not tonight, not when they had another reconnaissance mission tomorrow at that frozen cliffside. He would say them when this was over, when he could lave ‘I love you’s’ into her skin with his tongue, with no fear of the end of the world. 
 
Instead, he leaned down and pressed his mouth against hers, hoping she could taste the words instead. 
 
 
As Sebastian stared up at the summer sky from inside a collapsing ruin, at the unchanged constellation that seemed to taunt him, he wished he would have just said it.