Ashes and Dust

Sebastian

 
The afternoon sun was beginning to sink towards the horizon, with three days left, when the base potion was finished. 
 
It was dark grey, nearly black in color, with swirling bits of amber shining through the murk. It smelled of death, like the decomposition that signaled something had been reclaimed by the earth. 
 
Bloodbreaker. 
 
The name had come to Sebastian amidst the delirium accompanying another sleepless night. 
 
Once he had bottled samples of the potion, and put the rest under a stasis charm, Sebastian downed another wide-eye and pulled a field mouse from the wire cage. 
The creature struggled in his grip, silently squeaking under the silencing spell. Sebastian rubbed his thumb gently over the mouse’s head, shushing him. He picked up his wand from the potion’s bench and cast a numbing and binding charm over the mouse, rendering it immobilized and without feeling. 
 
Sebastian gently placed the mouse on the potions table, right beside the journal containing The Master Bond incantation. 
 
For this experiment to succeed, Sebastian needed to first create a blood bond with the creature and then remove it. The only variable uncounted for was the manacles, which he couldn’t hope to recreate. Sebastian just had to hope that they would be removable with the dissolution of the bond between Ash and her captor. 
 
Sebastian hovered the tip of his wand over the hind end of the mouse, and sliced it downward, creating a thin cut. The mouse didn’t react, though Sebastian murmured a quiet apology regardless. Blood dripped from the cut, sliding down its fur onto the wooden table. 
 
Sebastian lifted his wand toward his outstretched finger and sliced. Blood welled at the tiny cut, and Sebastian wasted no time hovering his wound over the matching slice on the mouse. A bead formed at the tip of his index before it dripped directly over the mouse’s cut. 
 
“Per sanguinem meum, ligatus es,” Sebastian began, continuously dripping his blood into the wound, “Spiritus tuus et voluntas nunc mihi pertinent. Hoc vinculum rubrum tuam essentiam subigit.” The wound began to glow a deep red, “In servitutem aeternam ligatus. Sanguis est potestas, sanguis est clavis. Tu es meus, et ego sum dominus tuus.”
 
He repeated the incantation twice more, until the slice along the back end of the mouse began sewing itself together. His matching cut followed suit until only a thin scar remained, a reminder of the dark magic. 
 
Sebastian stared down at the mouse; if he focused, he could feel a thrumming in his blood matching the creatures’ heartbeat. He waved his wand, dismissing the immobulus. The mouse blinked, and blinked again, his whiskers twitching. 
 
Sebastian dropped his hand to the tabletop, stretching his palm upwards, “Come.”
 
The mouse stumbled forward, legs shaky, as it clambered into his hand. Sebastian let out a breath of relief. He had gotten the binding correct. Now for the next step. He petted the creature’s soft head, soothing it. 
 
Sebastian summoned a small vial of his potion, popping the cork out. Another quick and painless cut to both the mouse and himself, and then he was dripping their combined blood into the vial. He licked his lips, nervously chewing on the battered flesh. No color change occurred, though Sebastian wasn’t sure that meant anything. There was no precedent for this. Everything could mean something, or nothing. 
 
He swirled the vial, the bright blood swallowed in the darkness of the potion. He glanced down at the mouse in his palm, “Open.”
 
The tiny creature’s mouth opened, its beady eyes unfocused as it lifted its head upwards towards Sebastian. Sebastian wasn’t sure how much was necessary. A whole vial? The thing was so small, it might only take a drop or two. 
 
Sebastian sat the vial on the table and used his wand to pull a small amount of the dark liquid out. It bubbled in the air, and Sebastian floated the sphere of amber and grey towards the mouse. He placed it at the creature’s mouth, “Drink.”
 
The mouse did. 
 
A heartbeat passed and then another without so much as a twitch of the mouse’s whiskers, and then all at once it began—
 
The mouse began convulsing, arching, and writhing in Sebastian’s palm as if crucio’d. The numbing potion did little to prevent the pain-filled squeaks now tumbling from the little thing’s mouth. It scratched its little paws against its face, abdomen— every inch of its body— as if to staunch the pain radiating from within.
 
Sebastian held his breath, feeling a phantom echo of the pain deep in his bones— a burning inside. He knew a potion that worked to not only break an unbreakable bond but also to destroy and then replenish all of the blood within the body, would be painful. It had to take a creature to the brink of death, enough so that the blood bond would not return to the healthy, replenished cells. It had to eradicate and then restore. Death and life. 
 
The mouse screeched and shook, and Sebastian could do nothing but murmur apologies, feeling each frantic, pained heartbeat as his own, dulled compared to the creatures’ pain but still there. It seemed to go on forever, but then suddenly it stopped. 
 
Sebastian felt the bond snap. 
 
The mouse stilled, slumped into a heap, its breathing slowing and slowing until it completely stopped. 
 
Sebastian waited for the restoration. Seconds passed, and then minutes. The mouse did not come to. 
 
“Fuck,” he hissed, hovering his wand over the creature. He cast a diagnostic. Dead. True death. Not the feigned end of life he needed. 
 
Sebastian let out a harsh breath and gently placed the mouse on the potion’s table. He clenched his jaw until he felt his teeth groan under the pressure. He didn’t have time for failure.
 
A flick of his hand had his notebook summoned, and he began scribbling. He didn’t know what went wrong. There were too many variables. Was the dosage too high for the size of the mouse? Did the blood not seep into the potion? Were his ratios incorrect? 
 
He didn’t know. 
 
He would have to test them all. 
 
A process that would usually take weeks if not months. He wanted to cry— to scream and rage and burn it all to the ground. Sebastian gripped the edge of the table, breathing hard out of his nose. Time was not on his side. But Sebastian worked well under pressure, didn’t he? He spent the entirety of fifth year attempting to right the wrongs done to his sister, knowing her death was imminent. This was no different. And this time, no one stood in his way. 
 
Sebastian leaned his notebook against the wall behind the potions bench, scratching a column into the pages with his quill. 
 
Experiment one: Failure. Unknown reason. Further testing required. 
 
He grabbed his wand and the vial of potion, and summoned another mouse. 
 
___•___
 
Alex

 
Black had been in meetings all morning, some in the manor, some elsewhere. As usual, Alex was not permitted to attend. However, by ten in the morning, Alex heard the telltale sign of guests flooing out of the manor. 
 
Alex had spent the rest of the night before practicing his occlumency and watching over Ash. He spent hours in his mind, fortifying the orphanage walls, locking away memories of his deceit and turncoating. In the brief moments he came out of his mind, he rubbed dittany paste along Ash’s burn marks. They didn’t heal. They never did. But he hoped she felt the cooling effect of the paste regardless. 
 
Now, Alex stood outside Black’s office. Shadows seemed to dance on the ancient stone walls around him, his own shadow made king and stretched by the nearby ornate lamp. 
 
The lack of discussion inside the office, and his sister waiting for him to liberate her from this hell he had put them in, prompted him to raise his fist and knock. It was unheard of, for a pawn like him to seek out his master. He knew this. Yet Alex steeled himself, let his mind calm as the orphanage gates shut behind every traitorous memory. 
 
“Enter.” Black’s voice was muffled behind the thick mahogany door, but the cruel edge lacing each syllable was clear.
 
Alex’s body was stone. Every inch the soldier his uncle trained him to be. The tattoos wrapping around his dark-skinned arms, given to him at the ripe age of sixteen, marked him as one of theirs. Each twirling barbed vine squeezing him like the force of the Vow. 
 
He pushed open the door. 
 
Black was seated behind his massive oak desk, his usual opulent attire replaced by a more subdued ensemble. He wore a dark, tailored robe of deep green with simple gold embroidery along the cuffs and collar.
 
The air was thick with the scent of old books and burning candle wax, with the suffocating feel of dark magic that seemed to permeate every crevice of this house. 
 
His eyes were drawn to a parchment lying partially unrolled on Black’s desk. It was an intricate diagram, and though he couldn’t make out all the details, he could practically feel the magic seeping from the design.
 
The diagram featured a twisting, serpentine structure that looped and coiled upon itself. The bands twisted and curled like vines, but these were not ornamental; they were sharp, jagged, and cruel, resembling thorns. Scattered around the central design were smaller symbols and annotations, written in what looked like a mix of goblin script and runes.
 
“Alexander,” Black acknowledged, his piercing gaze meeting Alex’s for only a moment before Alex averted his eyes under the guise of respect. “How is our pet?” He gave no indication for Alex to sit, so he remained standing, though he shut the heavy door behind him. 
 
Alex’s voice was cold, his posture rigid, “The asset is in her chambers, preparing for training.” The lie was easy. Simple. He was a good soldier. He was helping his master, he was just a pawn attempting to climb rank, ”Sir. I’ve been considering our plan to strengthen the blood bond between you and the ministers across Europe. Given recent events, I believe it would be prudent to enhance the magical safeguards.”
 
Black raised an eyebrow, a faint smirk playing on his lips. “You think my control is wavering?”
 
“Of course not, sir.” Alex replied smoothly. “But with the unrest and increased scrutiny, reinforcing the bond could re-ensure absolute loyalty. It’s a precaution, nothing more.”
 
A good soldier, a pawn vying for knighthood. A boy wanting to be useful. He let that show on his face. 
 
Black leaned back in his chair, steepling his fingers as he studied Alex. “You wish to re-endow the rings with my blood then?”
 
“It’s a measure that would guarantee their obedience in these tumultuous times.”
 
There was a moment of silence as Black stared at him, though Alex kept his gaze locked above his master’s brow. The only sound was the ticking of an ornate clock on the wall, each tick echoing around the room.
 
“And you would so graciously volunteer to perform this ritual?” Black asked, his tone revealing nothing of his thoughts. But there was calculation, always calculation, in everything the man said. He was a man who had the world convinced he was a fool, while holding puppet strings they didn’t even know existed. He was a snake, a spider in an intricate web. But Alex grew up with pests, had squished plenty under his boots.
 
“Yes,” Alex confirmed. “I was trusted with the ritual in the past, and I can ensure its success once more.” A good pawn, he was just a soldier wanting a better seat at the table. A boy wanting to please his master. 
 
“Your loyalty to the cause is commendable, young Rookwood. You grow more like your uncle each day.” That rattled the bars of the orphanage’s iron gates, but Alex remained unmoved. “And your hunger is deeply rooted. Though I suppose years of starvation and deprivation will do that to a boy.” Black’s lip curled as if he told a funny joke. “I shall see you rewarded when our kingdom rises from the ashes.” 
 
Black rolled his left sleeve upwards, revealing a pale strip of skin, unblemished and unmarked. Alex didn’t dare breathe, lest Black change his mind. He reached down, opened a drawer, and summoned a glinting black bloodletting ring. He slid the band onto his index finger before dragging the sharp tip of the ring across the wrist of his free hand with no hesitation.

Blood welled at the shallow cut, bubbling in rivulets that wished to race down to the floor. Alex wasted no time yanking his wand from his sleeve; he murmured a quick charm, siphoning the lifeblood into an empty vial he pulled from his pocket. The crimson liquid seemed to pulse with power, and Alex couldn’t help but feel a surge of satisfaction. This was the key. To everything. A simple pawn held the key to everything.
 
He let none of that satisfaction show. Only the hint of a child soldier, desperate to prove himself, marred his otherwise stony face. 
 
Once two vials were full, Alex gently stoppered and slipped them into his empty pocket and stowed his wand once more. Black waved his own yew wand and sealed the cut, vanishing any trace of blood from his wrist. 
 
Alex bowed his head, letting his chin touch his chest in submission, “Thank you for this opportunity. I will not fail you, sir.”
 
“No. You will not.” Black’s lips pulled into a smirk, and Alex met his eyes for only a moment before he turned and shut the door behind him. 
 
Silence washed over him in the cavernous hall. If he listened hard enough he could hear the scuttling of elves in the distance, keeping everything perfect for their master. The only other sound was the rapid beating of his heart.
 
He needed to get to Sebastian. 
 
Alex glanced to his left, where, on the other side of the manor, Ash slept. He didn’t have time for a check in, though he wished to whisper to her that soon she would be out of this place. 
 
Instead he turned on the spot, disapparating in a swirl of black. 
 
___•___
 
Sebastian stepped from the crumbling archway, only giving the now-overcast sky a glance before settling his weary gaze back on Alex. It was going to rain soon, though Alex didn’t mind. It beat the burning heat of the summer sun.
 
Sebastian looked worse than he had two days ago, cheeks sunken in, fingers twitching at his sides. He tried to picture what the boy might’ve looked like—the boy that his sister had grown so close to. Close seemed an understatement, considering how Sebastian had screamed her name that day in the field, when Alex had taken her from him. Though Alex had long guessed that whatever their bond was, it was far from the platonic one Alex himself shared with her. 
 
“Do you have them?” 
 
Alex nodded, and slipped the four vials from his pocket, “I marked Black’s blood vials with ink on the cork.” He passed them over, noticing thin scars littering Sebastian’s inner wrists and palms— some looking freshly healed. 
 
Sebastian studied the vials, holding Ash’s in his hand ever so gently. His thumb traced back and forth along the column of the glass, eyes tracking each movement, “Any issues?”
 
Alex shook his head, “No. Though I will need to make a few tourist visits before I go back tonight.” An understatement. He didn’t know if Black would be aware of his movements, but he didn’t dare risk finding out. He would need to make a stop at each minister’s city. He most likely would not be done until nearly morning. Alex tried not to think of the pending exhaustion. 
 
“How is she?” 
 
Sebastian’s question was pained as he rolled his thumb along the vial; as if he hoped to feel a part of her with him now. 
 
“She’s sleeping.”
 
Sebastian let out a breath through his nose before he reluctantly slipped the vials of blood into the bag hanging at his shoulder. His hard eyes met Alex’s, “I’ve nearly finished the potion. It will be complete before our deadline. I’ll need to contact you when it’s done, because you’ll have to administer it.”
 
Alex blinked. He hadn’t considered that, but it was true. Sebastian wouldn’t be able to reach her at the manor, not without Alex dying first from the Vow and Sebastian subsequently being torn to pieces by the warding. And bringing her from the manor before destroying the blood bond could get her killed if Black found out. It would have to be Alex. 
 
“I can change the coin to two-way communication, but I won’t have time to make your end a portkey on such short notice. You can alert me when it’s done, and we can meet here. I’ll pick it up—“
 
“It will be difficult.” Sebastian interrupted, his voice ragged, “The process is—“ he ran a thumb over one of the thin raised scars over his wrist, “You will have to administer an entire vial, maybe more. The incantation is just as crucial. I’ve found repeating it four times the most beneficial, but the pronunciation is key, as is the intention. Your mind has to be clear of anything except breaking the bond.”
 
“I won’t fail her.” Again. He thought. 
 
Sebastian seemed to read that on his face, “It won’t be quick. The incantation itself takes a few minutes to get through, and then—“ Sebastian paused, the wording stuck on his tongue, “It’s going to hurt her. Badly. You have to be prepared for her to nearly die.”
 
Alex’s face hardened, “Why the fuck would you create—“
 
“You think I want it to hurt her?” Sebastian snarled, “You think I want to play any part in her torture after these months of picturing nothing but the pain she’s already been through? Breaking a blood bond is dark magic, and dark magic has a price. She needs to feign death in order for the bond to fully dissolve before the potion can restore her blood. If she doesn’t, then the bond will just snap back into place once she heals, or she’ll die in the process.”
 
Alex didn’t respond for a moment. He’d spent months hearing her screams as an outsider. Someone who had facilitated but not directly caused her pain. And now, after promising to save her from the hell he had caused, he would have to cause her suffering. He swallowed down the bile threatening to rise in his throat, “Will it remove the manacles?”
 
“Theoretically.”
 
“That’s it? Theoretically?”
 
Sebastian sneered at him, but the heat was missing, “I don’t have goblin silver manacles to experiment with. Regardless, the bond is what causes her to submit to your master’s will. Without the bond, the manacles should either fall off or suppress her magic.”
 
“And her mind?” Alex pushed. He needed to know. Needed to know if she’d ever be the same.
 
Pain swept across Sebastian face, an uncertainty that seemed to rattle him,
“I don’t know. Without the bond, she should have control of her mind but—“
 
“But we don’t know what state she’ll be in.” Alex finished. 
 
Silence descended between them as the clouds began to loose their contents down to the earth. The raindrops were fat and heavy, nearly a torrent that once started seemed to go on forever. 
 
“What will you do, when it’s over?” Sebastian finally spoke, not bothering to cast a shield charm against the storm. 
 
“Once my master is dead, I will leave.” If that’s what she wants. And if she wanted kill Alex, he would gladly accept that too. 
 
Sebastian merely nodded, not bothering to offer false sympathies. The boy had once said that Ash would never forgive him. Even if she miraculously did, Alec would never forgive himself. He felt deservedly drowned by the rain. 
 
“I will finish the potion by tomorrow,” Sebastian said, stepping closer to hand Alex his coin, “I will alert you when it’s finished. We’ll meet, I’ll give you the potion and incantation. When it’s done bring her here, then you and I will figure out how to kill her captor.” 
 
Alex murmured a spell over the coin, tracing a series of runic webs over the surface, “And if she wants to kill him herself?”
 
“Then I will stand by her side as she does so.” 
 
Alex handed the coin back a few minutes later, now spelled to two-way communication. “I have to go.”
 
Sebastian stepped back, his jaw tense as raindrops slid down his face, “Tell her hello for me, and that I’ll see her soon.”
 
They both apparated away, leaving Hastings Castle in a downpour. 
 
 
___•___
 
The rain didn’t let up, even as the first rays of gold and pink began to touch the horizon. Alexander apparated directly to her chambers, despite the exhaustion weighing on him. He had stopped at each conquered country, and despite alternating between Floos and Apparation, his magical core was depleted. He needed to rest. 
 
But he had to see her first. 
 
The familiar rush of disorientation from Apparation faded as Alex found himself standing in the dimly lit room. His heart pounded with the effort, every fiber of his being screaming for rest, but he stayed upright. His eyes flitted towards the bed and panic seeped into his very bones. 
 
It was empty. 
 
He took a cautious step forward, his senses on high alert. The weight of dark magic was in the air; heavy, choking. 
 
“Ah. The prodigal solider has returned.” The voice, cold and mocking, froze him in place.
 
Alexander turned slowly towards the unlit hearth, his heart sinking into his stomach as he saw Black in the shadows, a cruel smile playing on his lips. The dark wizard stepped forward, the soft purple light from the dawn casting an ominous glow on his features.
 
“Sir,” Alex managed, his voice steady despite the panic rising within him. “What are you doing here at this hour?”
 
Black chuckled, the sound devoid of humor. “Checking on my prized possession, of course. The elves had told me such fascinating things. That you spent your days and nights in my pet’s chambers. That she had yet to step foot in the training hall in days.” His eyes were sparkling, like a cat who’d trapped a mouse. “You always had such interesting thoughts of the girl. Hatred, Betrayal. Love—“ he drawled, and Alex could do nothing but feel fear rush through his veins at the implication that Black had been reading his mind since the beginning. 
 
His master continued, boredly running a finger over the marble mantelpiece. “I had assumed your copious amount of time spent with her involved bedding. And then, this lowly foot soldier waltz’s into my office with occlumency walls around his mind. What had you done, Alexander? To protect your mind like so?” He sneered, cocking his head to the side. His penetrating gaze raked over every inch of Alex, ”Imagine my surprise when I find my asset comatose with an adorable wooden figurine placed at her bedside table.”
 
Alex’s mind raced for an excuse, but it was clear that any pretense would be useless. He was caught, and there would be no reasoning his way out of this. Instead, he fortified those walls in his mind. His lips pulled into a snarl, “Where is she?”
 
“You’ve been very busy,” Black continued, ignoring Alex, his voice dripping with mockery. “Traveling from country to country, making your little arrangements. Who was it that received my blood, young Rookwood?”
 
Black met his gaze and a stabbing pain grew behind Alex’s eyes. They were no longer in the room, instead Black drug Alex through his mind, slicing at every memory and defense along his way. He shredded through the iron gates of the orphanage like they were paper. Alex was distantly aware that he was screaming. He tried to shove his memories deeper into the recesses of his mind, tried to hide the important ones— the ones containing Sebastian and his potion— in the bowels of the orphanage. 
 
Black tore through everything. 
 
Memories of teaching Ash to fight when she was still in pigtails— ripped to pieces, until only fragments of the recollection remained. 
 
Meeting his uncle for the first time— Black laughed before turning the memory to nothing but dust. 
 
It was random destruction, as if Black were simply plucking the closest ripening fruit before squishing it beneath his fingers. 
 
His first beating by the headmaster— Black watched the entire memory first, before slicing through it. 
 
His nose was bleeding somewhere, he thought. Somewhere beyond his mind, he was writhing on the ground. 
 
Playing piano with her, their feet dangling from the bench as they composed their own song— 
 
“Please,” Alex gritted out, his throat raw, “Not this one—“
 
Black tore it asunder, until only flickers of melody remained. 
 
It wasn’t long until he came upon the memories of Alex’s betrayal. Meetings with Sebastian at Hastings Castle, who Black recognized with a sneer; Discussions of the blood bond; Sebastian’s plan to save her before the ministry attack—
 
Black did not destroy these memories. He studied them, watched them repeatedly for what felt like hours while Alex trembled on the floor. 
 
He finally pulled from Alex’s mind, ripping through it one last time. Alex jerked against the cold floor as he exited, his mind little more than a pile of ashes. Flickers of a life. Flashes of a chessboard and pawns and rooks and knights. He remembered enough to know why he was on this floor, and who he was trying to save. He just couldn’t remember why it mattered so much. Everything hurt, like he’d been hit with the cruciatus. 
 
“Pity,” Black clicked his tongue, pushing his boot against the crown of Alex’s head. “You had the makings of a true Rookwood. You just lacked…conviction.”
 
Alex groaned, rolling onto his side. He met Black’s eyes, “Go fuck yourself.” Alex slid the hand underneath him slowly towards his pocket, ensuring Black didn’t track the movement.
 
Black laughed, heartily. “As much as I am enjoying this titillating conversation, there is much to be done.” Black’s eye’s flickered to the shadowed corner across the room, “Come, pet.”
 
Red eyes blinked at him from the shadows before the wraith stepped into the dawn light. She was clad head to toe in black dragon leather. Her golden hair was loose, draped down her back in untangled waves. Silver glinted at her wrists and throat and—
 
And across her brow. Where a diadem of twisted, jagged goblin silver rested, like some crown of sterling thorns. A band of freshly burned skin rested underneath, a matching set to that at her wrists and throat. 
 
Alex stared at her and ghosts of a melody trickled across the broken shards of his mind. He didn’t remember who she was to him, if she was anyone to him, but he was meant to save her from this place. That was his job. That was why he had met with Sebastian, why he was here on this floor broken and bleeding with gaps in his memory. 
 
But Alex didn’t think he was leaving this room. 
 
He kept reaching towards his pocket, until his fingers brushed the coin nestled inside. 
 
“Pet,” Black cooed lovingly, brushing a lock of her hair from her face. She didn’t react, her features a resemblance of ice and stone. Blood red eyes trained only on Alex, as if reading him from the inside out. Black continued, running a finger over the sharp edges of her diadem, ”Your leash holder here has been naughty. What do we do with naughty staff, pet?”
 
She stared down at him, tension coiling in every muscle like a snake readying to strike. Magic flickered at her fingertips, raw and powerful. 
 
She was going to kill him. 
 
“It’s okay.” Alex murmured, blood leaking from the corner of his mouth where he had bitten his tongue. He didn’t know where the words came from. Didn’t really understand why he was saying them to her, “It’ll be alright.” He felt a serenity sweep through him when he held her gaze, a peace that some part of him had made with this even if he didn’t remember why. “Sebastian told me to tell you hello, and that he’s going to get you out—“
 
“Enough with the pitiful goodbyes—“ Black snapped, facing the girl with the red eyes.
 
“Forgive me.” Alex interrupted Black. Forgiveness for what, he wasn’t entirely sure. But there was a longing, one trapped in that broken melody floating through his tattered mind. She was staring at Alex, but he didn’t know if she could hear him. 
 
It will be okay, he thought. 
 
Golden cords began to glow around Alex’s left forearm, constricting painfully as he squeezed tightly to the coin in his pocket. 
 
“What have you done,” Black hissed, eyes filled with fury. Alex gritted his teeth against the pain sweeping up his bicep, against the cords now wrapping around his throat. 
 
“Do it now.” Black turned, facing the girl in black. She blinked. Once. Twice. The crowned girl raised a hand, her face devoid of emotion. She stared at him as green shot from the tips of her fingers. 
 
Alex heard laughter, and music, and tasted candy on his tongue as blackness overtook him. He saw a glimpse of green eyes and a toothy smile. A final breath left his lungs, and to those in the room, it sounded less like an exhalation and more like a whisper of her name. 
 
___•___
 
Sebastian
 
At six-thirty in the morning, Sebastian woke to a painful burning at his thigh. He lifted his face from the potions table, unaware he’d even dozed off. He pulled himself up from his chair, wiping dust from ashwinder eggs from his face before reaching into his pocket. 
 
He yanked the coin out.
 
‘Black Manor’ was inscribed across the top, with golden threads of magic flickering around the width of the coin. The golden cords were there for only a heartbeat or two before they vanished, leaving the metal cold in his palm. He had no time to consider that name, that person who must have her—
 
Fear leeched into his bones. If Alex had given the name, because this was certainly the name of his master—
 
He was dead. 
 
“Fuck.” Sebastian yelled, gripping the coin tightly. A portkey did not activate. That proved it. “Fuck Fuck Fuck—“
 
He threw the coin across the room.
 
Alex was dead. 
 
He had been caught somehow and had given Sebastian the name he needed to finish this. Had he been tortured first? Did his master know of Sebastian and their plan? Or had he been killed for a separate offense entirely? 
 
He had to assume the worst. 
 
Sebastian dropped his head into his hands. “Fuck.”
 
She was alone now. And Sebastian had two days to save her. Alone. He was alone in this now, too. Two days, because he would assume that she was still sleeping and hadn’t been hurt again. Two days, because he didn’t know what would happen if the ministry was overtaken. It didn’t matter if her captor knew his plan or not. He wouldn’t let her suffer any longer. 
 
He bent over the potions table, where a stasis charm protected the cauldron filled with Bloodbreaker. 
 
He would finish it today. 
 
And then tomorrow—
 
Tomorrow, he would rip Headmaster Phineas Black into pieces.