Twenty-six hours
Sebastian
The smell of death permeated the air of the cellar, seeping into every crevice, and every pore on Sebastian's skin. Rotting decay emanated from the cauldron bubbling and roiling over the flames.
The cage at his side was devoid of mice, save two, whom Sebastian monitored for signs of degeneration after the bond had been successfully broken.
The dosage, Sebastian discovered, was weight-determined. One bottle was enough for a small child, two for a grown man. Three drops for a mouse. One and three-fourths for Ash.
It had taken four mice to discover the dosage, though that hadn't been the only incorrect variable. Nothing had worked until he had discovered he had to steep the blood in the cauldron while it was still boiling. If he added it before boiling, the blood curdled and the mouse died. If he waited until the potion was bottled, the blood didn't coagulate properly, and the mouse died.
He found that adding the blood ten minutes into the boiling process, after the base potion had been fully rendered, at approximately one hundred and three degrees Celsius yielded the best results.
It had taken twelve mice to discover that.
But the two caged mice at his side were squeaking happily, chewing on a lump of sausage, post potion ingestion.
Bloodbreaker was ready.
And so six hours after he had gotten the news of Alex's death, Sebastian had added Black's and Ash's blood into the cauldron. One vial of blood each. He had kept the spare vials secure, in case he botched this batch. But he couldn't afford any mistakes, not now. Not with only hours left in the day and the ministry attack tomorrow at Merlin knows what time. Not with his limited supplies.
Not with her brother dead.
Sebastian didn't know how to feel about it. It was a lost asset— a connection he no longer had to Ash while she was captive. A source of information he couldn't replace, and his way to administer the potion.
But he had taken her. Had stood by willingly as she was tortured and forced to murder innocents. Sebastian couldn't forgive that, no matter how Alex had seemingly come to his senses in the end.
He had contemplated killing him once it was all over. It didn't matter that he had fed Sebastian information. It didn't matter that he had felt guilty about his role in her capture. He had hurt her.
But Sebastian couldn't do that to Ash. He had told Alex once that Ash would never forgive him for his betrayal, and Sebastian still believed that true. But he was her first friend, her chosen brother. She wouldn't want him dead, especially not at Sebastian's hand.
But Alexander was gone, and now Sebastian had to find a way to administer the potion himself.
He had spent the past six hours ruminating. There would be no chance of breaking into Black Manor; which is why Alex was originally supposed to dose her. The ancient wards would tear him to pieces the moment he tried to step through them. And he doubted there would be a moment he could interrupt her travel from Wiltshire to London. It would be one jump.
Which left the Ministry as his only option.
He had no idea if it would only be Ash arriving to take out the minister and the Wizengamot, or if it would be more. Alex had said this was the final topple, the last domino. Black himself could be there. Though Sebastian doubted the bastard would put himself in harm's way.
Black. His fucking headmaster. All that time, he was sharing the castle with the man who had taken her. There were other Black cousins, nephews, uncles, and a sister in the Wizengamot. But none lived in Black Manor. The man even had four young sons and a daughter, all living with his estranged wife out of country. And none would have unfettered access to Hogwarts library, in which to leave that cursed tome that led them into the ambush at the cave. He would've known about her magic, about the repository. And they had gone to him, that fucking day— asking for help, telling him about Harlow's escape.
"Do not worry yourself with Bragbor's journals, child."
Sebastian should've known. It made him sick.
Black played a good fool. A simpering man with little more than two brain cells to rub together. And yet he had taken over nearly all of wizarding Europe. Had taken Ash as his weapon. How long had this been planned? How long had he been running the chessboard?
That mattered little now. What mattered was tomorrow.
He was blind on the numbers. He was blind on the plan besides the targets she was meant to kill. He was blind on the timing in which it was supposed to occur. Tomorrow he knew. But fucking when?
And once he was there, then what?
She would likely kill him before he could get close enough to dose her.
Sebastian's head ached, a throbbing pressure right behind his eyes. The longest stretch of sleep he'd gotten in the last few weeks was three hours. He would need to sleep tonight or he'd be useless to her tomorrow.
He was pretty much useless now, with less than half a fucking plan. He was so lost in his own thoughts he didn't hear the steps creaking behind him.
"I secured a map." Ominis' voice sounded, snapping Sebastian from his reverie.
Sebastian turned, supporting his weight on the potions table. Ominis looked clean, dressed to the nines in his charcoal grey suit. In his hand he held a large rolled piece of parchment.
Sebastian let out a sigh of relief, reaching for it, "There were no questions?"
Ominis handed the map over, "None that a Gaunt couldn't answer."
Sebastian stalked to a desk near the wall, ignoring the twinge he felt using his parents' things, and quickly cleared off the contents from the top. He unrolled the map, swishing his wand to stick the corners down, "Your father hasn't made it known that you're cut off?"
"He doesn't want to be embarrassed." Ominis sniffed, stepping to Sebastian's side, "So getting into the ministry archives was easy enough."
A map of the ministry sat before him, a complete set of floor plans of each of the eight levels, the atrium, and the courtrooms. Only the department of mysteries was left unmarked by details, save the name scrawled across the level near the bottom of the page.
A flick of Sebastian's wand had each level shown in detail, fading the rest of the map away and letting that area grow to the size of the parchment. Room details, entrances, elevator locations. It was all there.
Sebastian had been to the ministry before, but only to the auror department and once to the archives. He had little idea of the rest of the sprawling building. He didn't know if any civilian knew the sheer scale of the ministry.
"It's outdated," Ominis said, "It doesn't include the renovation done ten years ago to the courtroom levels."
"That's fine," Sebastian returned offhandedly. He was much more focused on the minister's office on level one. He knew, for a fact, that would be a place she would go.
"The security is much tighter. Only ministry officials and those with connections can use the floo system."
Sebastian nodded, "Figured as much. I have some polyjuice stored somewhere in my trunk."
He'd need a hair of someone with access. Tomorrow morning he could snatch someone outside the ministry.
"I heard something else," Ominis said, running his glowing wand tip over the map. He hovered it over courtroom three. "There's a hearing with the Wizengamot tomorrow. Two in the afternoon. I heard talks in the atrium about it; a policy decision over introducing muggleborn regulations as done in other countries. It was originally planned to be open to the public, but with the security threat..." Ominis trailed off.
Fire burned in his blood, beating in time with his rapid heart, "That's when then. Alexander said the plan was to take out the minister and the Wizengamot. That's when Black will do it."
A muggleborn wiping out the government set to put her people in chains. And Black would rise from the ashes, taking over a country— a continent— fettered in fear.
Two p.m. That gave him roughly twenty-six hours. The potion would need to sit for another two once he removed the stasis. Then he would need to really sit and plan. That would give him a few hours tonight to sleep before he woke early to get the hair for the polyjuice.
"I am going with you." Ominis vowed lifting his chin as if that would make him suddenly not the same height as Sebastian, but taller.
"Absolutely not."
His face turned stony, the furrow between his brow becoming more pronounced as he gritted his teeth, "You cannot go alone—"
"Ominis, you won't even hurt anyone!" Sebastian snapped, pushing from the desk.
"I would for you," Ominis breathed, his voice caught somewhere between a yell and a plea, "If you're going to get yourself killed, I won't let you go alone. I won't be here waiting for you, and you not come back."
Sebastian stared at him, at the cracks in his porcelain facade. His friend who would walk into hell for him, knowing there was no other path. Sebastian let out a breath, turning from Ominis, "You can't come," Sebastian murmured, "I need you to be with Anne."
"What? Why?"
Sebastian stepped around him and yanked out a drawer of the potions table. He gently pulled out a cloth wrapped object, no larger than the palm of his hand, "In case things go wrong, you will portkey yourself and my sister to Morroco. I've made arrangements for Anne to have control of the Sallow vault. There's a hospital there, as good as St. Mungo's where she can continue her treatment."
Ominis was silent, barely breathing as he processed Sebastian's words. More cracks in the facade, his face twisted into something akin to heartbreak. "You're sending me away."
It wasn't a question. And Sebastian didn't answer. Instead he placed the wrapped object in Ominis' hand.
"How did you even afford an international portkey?" Ominis' voice was ragged, a stone's throw away from sounding as if he was going to cry.
"I sold the house."
"Sebastian," Ominis croaked, shock flashing over his features, "Your parents—"
"Are dead." Sebastian said, voice flat, "Anne will never return here with her condition. The bank has control over the property and will market it in a week's time. It was enough to pay for the final potion ingredients I needed and for the portkey, without wiping out the vaults that Anne will need should I fail."
"And if you don't?"
"The house will still be sold, but the vaults will be split between my sister and I."
Ominis just stood there, and Sebastian had never seen him so lost. Not even in fifth year. His hands clenched at his sides, trembling as he turned his face towards the side. "And how am I supposed to know when to leave?"
"You'll know." Sebastian had no doubt that if he failed tomorrow, the fall of the ministry would be widespread news in mere hours.
"And if I refuse?" Ominis turned back, his pale eyes looking straight through Sebastian as if he could see him. They were glossy, red-rimmed, though no tears had fallen.
Sebastian clenched his jaw, "You won't."
Ominis turned away, placing his shaking hands on the desk atop the map. It crinkled under his hands, but neither commented. "How long ago did you sell the house? How long have you been planning on the possibility of you dying?"
"Since my first meeting with Alexander."
Ominis' shoulders sagged. Over a month. A tension overtook him, rendering him riding as he spun to face Sebastian. Panic laced his features, "You gave the property information, to the ministry, a month ago?" He stepped closer, "How sure are you that Alexander didn't give up your name when Black killed him?"
A coldness seeped into Sebastian's bones. It would take nothing for someone influential in the ministry to access the property records if they knew what to look for. Who to look for.
It had been six hours since he had received that last message from Alex.
Sebastian's mind raced, the gravity of the situation hitting him like a sledgehammer. "If you're right, we need to go. Now," Sebastian said, his voice low and urgent. He turned abruptly, moving toward the potions table. "Grab the map, and the trunk of potion supplies against the back wall."
Ominis didn't hesitate, slashing his wand through the air urgently. The map rolled up neatly, and Ominis grabbed it, shrunk it, and shoved it into his inner coat pocket.
Sebastian busied himself with the potions table. He snatched up the remaining blood vials, casting a quick cushioning charm around them before sliding them into his bag. Then the ashwinder eggs, and bloodroot. The Doxy eggs went next, a third cushioning charm. The murtlap tentacle and dragon claw. He shoved the bundle of asphodel root in last, thankful for the extension charm he'd put on his bag months ago.
He stared at the cauldron and at the table itself. If something went wrong—
He needed the entire setup. His shrinking charms were shit and to shrink an entire lab station—
"Ominis!" Sebastian yelled over his shoulder, "I need the potions table to go with us."
"A moment." Ominis answered, his voice wavering with exertion. He was shrinking Sebastian's trunk, small enough to fit under his arm.
A thick silence filled the air, staticky, viscous.
Sebastian felt the wards around the property shift.
"Fuck—" he swore, "Ominis, they're here. Shrink the goddamn table!"
Ominis tripped, stumbling towards him as he waved his wand over the table and cauldron. Murmuring the spell softly despite the panic in his voice. The cauldron shrank first, and Sebastian snatched it, ensuring the stasis charm was still intact atop Bloodbreaker. He stuck the cauldron in one of the table's drawers, cushioning the entire table and warding it against spells attacks.
A boom sounded above them, and Sebastian felt the wards cracking.
The table began shrinking, slow, too slow—
Another boom, and the wards crumbled.
The table was small enough that Sebastian could hoist it onto his shoulder. He grunted, the weight still substantial despite the size. His left arm trembled, but he gritted his teeth. "Apparate now, forbidden forest. The path before the entrance."
Apparating side-along would be a disaster with the assortment of magically reduced items they both carried. They'd be lucky if apparating solo wouldn't splinch them at this point— turning Sebastian into half table.
Ominis focused, gripping his wand tightly, before blanching.
"I can't apparate."
Dread filled his veins. "They've blocked it. Anti-apparation field."
Footsteps sounded upstairs in the house proper. Multiple sets. The sounds of destruction followed— magic seeped through the air.
He forced a breath into his lungs, and shifted the table higher on his shoulder. Something pinched deep in the socket, but he ignored it. He had one free arm. It would have to be enough.
"Get behind me. Shield spells from you over us both. I'll take the offensive."
Ominis didn't respond verbally, but he sidled up behind Sebastian, close enough that Sebastian could feel his shaky breathing on the back of his neck.
"As soon as we reach the perimeter, you apparate to St. Mungo's and get Anne. They'll know she's there, and I don't want to risk her. You take that portkey," Sebastian murmured, his voice ragged as he pointed his wand up the staircase, "And go to Morocco. Best case, I'll be there in a week."
Neither said anything about the worst case. Or the fact that they might not make it from this room to even contemplate tomorrow's fight.
Laughter above them, cackling as something crashed to the ground.
He thought about Ash. About the collar around her neck. About the screams Ominis described from Alex's memory. A blackness creeped up his spine, sinking deeper into his marrow.
So when the cellar door slammed open, Sebastian didn't hesitate.
"Avada Kedavra." He hissed through his teeth, sending a bolt of green right into the silver animal mask of the unlucky Ashwinder who'd come down first. The man slumped and slid headfirst down the stone stairs, all the way to Sebastian's boots.
Ominis flinched behind him but didn't dare open his mouth.
The cold flooded his body like ice, the dark magic wrapping around each vein, each tendon begging for more. Ominis had been right those years ago, it was addictive.
He inhaled, breathing in the scent of death.
"The Sallow kid is down there!"
Footsteps rushed towards the stairwell—
Then the chaos started.
Sebastian slashed his wand upwards, yanking the dead man's body in front of him right as a bolt of green shot his way. The spell struck the cadaver's chest with a sickening thump. Sebastian shoved his wand forward, thrusting the body up the stairs, crashing into the two waiting men.
It didn't damage them, but bought him time as he and Ominis began forcing their way up the narrow staircase.
By two steps upwards, the men recovered, sending twin severing hexes their way.
Ominis wasted no time, casting a shield charm just as the curses were fired in their direction. The room erupted in bedlam—flashes of light, the crackle of magic, and the harsh, guttural shouts of spells being cast. The room filled with the acrid smell of burned wood and singed fabric, the air thick with the taste of fear and adrenaline.
"Internus incendium." Sebastian hissed, slashing his wand in an X shape.
The spell leapt across the space, jagged and purple and electric. It struck the man on the right, splitting him down the middle, spilling blood and bile and flames from his torso. He didn't even get a chance to scream.
The ashwinder on the left snarled, "Avada—"
"Diffindo." Sebastian spit, slicing the man's throat open before he could finish the curse.
Sebastian barreled up the stairs, Ominis on his heels, desperate to get out of the narrow space before more Ashwinders could trap them. He pushed out of the top, using the table on his shoulder as a shield against the bombardment of slicing and incendiary spells. They ricocheted off the warded surface, sending the spell scattering in all directions.
Ominis cast another shield, protecting them further.
Sebastian forced his eyes open through the barrage. The house was at his back, smelling of fire. They must've set the whole thing ablaze from the inside. To his front, at least seven Ashwinders, some out in the open, others disillusioned and shimmering in the midday sun. Some crouched behind the perimeter fence nearly thirty meters away, wands drawn and aimed.
There'd be more inside the house to his back, or around the side he knew. At least twelve in total he would guess. Bad odds. It was almost complementary that Black would send such a large host for him.
He didn't send Ash. She wasn't here. He would've felt her.
The shield around them was cracking under the weight of the spells smashing against it. Sebastian yelled over the sizzling of magic, "When the shield breaks, we move forward. You'll need to use a protego maxima to cover us from all sides!"
Ominis reached forward, squeezing Sebastian's shoulder for a moment, "I'm ready."
They watched, faces grim as the shield around them splintered— splitting into fractals.
"Bombarda—" An Ashwinder to their right hissed, sending the explosive spell to the dome around them.
"Now!" Sebastian barked, running full force ahead as the shield behind them exploded into wisps of magic. Ominis cast another shield around them as soon as they were in the open. Sebastian could hear him breathing hard, the physical exertion coupled with the magical expenditure rapidly draining his energy.
The field around them became a chaotic battleground, the tall grass rippling like waves under the assault of spells. Green, red, and yellow were shot their way. Sebastian held fast, his shoulder tearing under the weight of the table he refused to drop.
A cluster of Ashwinders to their left, their disillusionments glinting with the direct sunlight, battered them with hexes. Some struck the shield directly, others went wide. Sebastian and Ominis kept running. This was not a showdown, it was an escape.
Sebastian twisted his casting arm across the stomach, gritting his teeth, "Incendio Maxima!"
Flames leapt from his wand, sending the tall, reedy grass blazing where the scintillating figures were standing. Screams erupted, high pitched and keening as their flesh melted from the strength of the firestorm. Sebastian felt the heat licking at his skin from twenty feet away.
They kept running forward, zigzagging when they could, avoiding the large pockets of wizards. The apparation line was near, and Sebastian could see the small stony wall marking the property wards ahead. Twenty meters now.
Spells zinged off the shield at their backs, those ashwinders from inside his house finally making an appearance.
"Protego Maxima!" Ominis shouted, reinforcing the shield just as a barrage of hexes crashed into it, sending sparks and shards of light scattering. Sebastian felt the impact reverberate through his bones but kept his feet moving. He shot another jagged purple spell in front of him, splitting open a wizard laying in wait right in their path.
"Stupefy!" Ominis's voice rang out, sending a stunning spell towards a shimmer in the air to their right. A body materialized, collapsing into the grass with a thud, right at Sebastian's feet. Close enough to penetrate the shield had Ominis not stopped him. Sebastian sent a slicing hex to his carotid, ensuring who went down stayed down.
Sebastian fired another incendio to his right, catching the fields ablaze on both sides. Where fire landed, screams erupted, and soon Sebastian couldn't hear the shouts of spells over the roaring of flame and death.
So the bombarda maxima sent from their rear hit dead on their shield, breaking it completely.
"Fuck!" Sebastian howled, a slicing spell sent from somewhere in front of them landing between his ribs, "Crucio—" He snarled, hitting the offender.
Their shield still wasn't up, but Sebastian didn't have the time to ask why—
He turned to their rear, sending bolts of green lashing across the space. Most hit the walls of the house, but two landed, sending the wizards slumping to the ground.
He twisted back forwards, panting as they continued to move between the rising columns of flames to their right and left. "Glacius—" Sebastian hissed, turning a wizard who had peaked his head over the far stone wall, to ice. "Confringo!" The man's frozen head burst into shards of red and pink.
Fifteen meters away.
Another spell, a sickly green light, barely missed Sebastian's shoulder. Ominis finally got their shield back up, but it was weak, punched with holes from spells battering them from both their front and back.
Sebastian immobilized the wizards he could see putting out the flames around them, leaving them to burn. The smoke was becoming thick, rising high into the blue skies, choking the pair of them as they continued moving, never stopping.
Not many left, only four at their front, hiding behind the stone wall. And two at their back. He didn't count the ones alive but on fire.
Another barrage hit their backs, splitting the shield down the middle as they stumbled forward. Sebastian gritted his teeth, twisting back behind them, directing his spell towards a gold-masked Ashwinder chasing them. "Expulso—"
The man's shield ruptured and Sebastian slashed his wand in a cross motion. "Ad Ipsum!" he sneered. The spell tore at Sebastian as it ripped from him, stealing a piece of his already shattered soul and absorbing it into the blackness. Dark magic always took something. An electric chain of blue burst forth, hitting the wizard in the throat. He turned ashen grey, freezing like he'd been paralyzed, before he began crumbling into dust.
Sebastian snapped back forward, Ominis at his heels, as he repeatedly chanted the shield charm, repairing it as it continued to fizzle at the seams.
Ten meters.
His lungs were burning, the lack of clean oxygen not helping their plight as they continued forward. Flames began encroaching on their free path, greedily burning away at the grass near their feet. Sebastian casted a series of aguamentis, clearing the flames in their immediate vicinity. Blood soaked his side from that slashing hex, but he didn't have the time to worry about how deep it might be. Nor did he have time to feel the pain in his shoulder as the table weighed him down.
Lashes of green continued to pelt them from the front, breaking the shield faster than any other spell.
He wouldn't die here. Not with his love out there waiting for him.
He narrowed his focus on the Ashwinders in his direct view, praying that Ominis could hold the shield long enough for them to cross the perimeter line and into the empty field beyond.
Only three left he could see, each one poking their head up to shoot a spell, then duck behind the crumbling wall. Sebastian's wand pointed directly where one of the wizards' heads had been, and then he lowered it, to the base of the wall.
"Bombarda Maxima."
The red light zinged from his wand, blowing the wall into pieces where it landed. It threw the Ashwinder back, with enough force to snap his neck.
Five meters. Two left.
Ominis panted behind him, tripping on Sebastian's heels as he murmured the shield spell repeatedly under his breath.
Sebastian blew up more wall, destroying the cover of the dark wizards and giving Ominis a reprieve from patching holes in their rapidly dissolving shield. The Ashwinders, caught off guard, stumbled back, momentarily exposed.
Sebastian surged forward, the distance closing rapidly. The two wizards recovered, their wands snapping up in unison. Spells flew, deadly and precise, ripping their shield apart and leaving him and Ominis exposed; but Sebastian was already moving, closing in until he could see the white of the wizard's eyes behind their masks.
"Avada Kedavara!" he roared, the spell catching one of the Ashwinders squarely in the chest. The dark wizard crumpled to the ground.
He spun, facing the other as they crossed the perimeter line, but the man was already casting, the jagged Z motion signaling death—
"Diffindo—" Ominis cried, sending the slicing hex at the man's stomach. His eyes bulged behind the mask, as his insides poured from the hole in his gut. The wizard gurgled, falling to his knees as he tried to shove his intensities back where they belonged.
Sebastian twisted to face Ominis, the blond's face crumpled as he listened to the death he caused. He wanted to thank him, to tell him how much he meant to him as his friend; for helping him, for saving him. For killing for him. There wasn't time. "Go Ominis. To Anne."
"Sebastian, I can't leave y—"
"You can, and you will." Sebastian panted, exhaustion weighing him down. He reached out, taking the map and shrunken trunk from under Ominis' arm and propping it under his own. "Now go. I will see you soon."
Ominis hesitated for only a moment, looking like he wanted to say more, like there was something heavy on his tongue he needed to get out; but the prolonged death behind him, the groans of pain spurred him on. He turned on the spot, apparating away with his remaining energy.
Sebastian gritted his teeth, his body bowing under the weight of the table. He turned his back to the open field, untouched by the destruction, facing his house. The field was aflame, burning wild like fiendfyre. He could see the house through the smoke, blackened in places where the fire inside began forcing its way out. He had grown up here. He and his sister. Had spent his childhood here, happy with his parents.
Had found them dead here.
Sebastian turned, apparating away.
___•___
Sebastian crashed to the floor of the cave, groaning at the impact. He let go of the table and the trunk, rolling onto his back as he choked down air.
His magic was spent, and he was lucky he didn't splinch into the potions table.
Sebastian forced his eyes down to the gash slowly bleeding at his ribs. It wasn't a deadly wound, clearly, but it hurt like fucking hell. He slung his arm atop the dropped trunk, fiddling with the lid until he finally got it open. It took some maneuvering, which he barely had in him, but he dug out a Wiggenweld. He downed it, reveling in the bitter taste that meant healing. He didn't bother with a second one. They needed to be saved, for tomorrow. He did swallow a pepper up, desperately needing some energy if he was to prepare for the ministry. It did nothing for his twitching fingers, still reeling from the firefight.
The wound stitched itself together, and when Sebastian found the strength, he pulled up his torn grey shirt to find a pink thin cut along his left side, mostly healed. It matched hers. The one she'd nearly died from when she'd stumbled into the Undercroft, covered in her own blood. Sebastian was lucky his wasn't as deep.
He forced himself to his knees and then to wobbly legs. His eyes lifted up, to the body still strapped in a chair. It had been nearly a week since he'd come by, and Harlow reflected that. His pants were molted onto his skin from the repeated heals and cuts. His chest was a battleground of narcotic tissue. And his grotesquely twisted legs had seemed to fully graft to each other and to the chair by this point. He was unconscious, though that was no surprise. Sebastian had meant to kill him weeks ago, when Alexander proved a better source of information, but hadn't brought himself to do it. Harlow was his spell dummy, his stress relief. And he feared killing him too soon.
He looked away from the mess of a man, ignoring the smell of shit and decay, turning instead to the potions table lying on its side. Sebastian righted it, and used the little bit of magic he had regained from the pepper up to restore its size. It had withstood much of the damage, due to the wards he had placed. But he had jostled it so much—
Sebastian immediately yanked open the drawer and carefully pulled the cauldron out. He gingerly sat it on top, before removing the stasis charm.
He could tell immediately something was wrong.
The color had turned from near black to mottled grey, and the blood he had added had separated from the mixture, floating at the top in streams.
Sebastian slammed his hands down on the tabletop, "Fucking damn it— can't anything go right just once!" His voice echoed through the cave, mocking him.
The urge to burn it all down was so strong, Sebastian forced his hands away from his wand.
He'd have to start over. Which meant his schedule would have to change. There would be no time to sleep now. It would take seven hours to brew it all again. And he'd need to plan for tomorrow during that time as much as he could.
He dropped his forehead to the table, squeezing his eyes shut. He was going to break apart. He didn't allow the tears of frustration to fall. Instead, he stood back up and breathed in a heavy breath through his nose.
This was for her. And he would do anything for her.
He vanished the contents of the cauldron and started anew.
___•___
Two hours later, when the potion had begun simmering, Sebastian made his way over to Harlow's slumped body. He poked his wand under his chin, lifting his head before prying his mouth open and dumping a Wiggenweld down his throat. He only had three left, he would need to be conservative with them. Once the more heinous wounds began slowly healing, Sebastian renerverated him.
Harlow woke with a sob choking from his throat, most likely hoping he had died. His head slumped forward without Sebastian holding it up, and his body trembled in the chair. There were no snarky remarks, no spitting or yanking at his magical bonds. Sebastian had finally broken him, yet he had no room in his mind to care anymore.
"I need to ask you something, and if you answer honestly and tell me what I need to know, I'll let you die."
Harlow whimpered, craning his neck just enough that Sebastian could see his bloodshot eyes. "Swear it."
Sebastian stared down at him, eyes blank, "I swear it."
Harlow didn't respond, just wheezed as he shifted in his chair. A squelching noise sounded as his skin sloshed away where his thighs met the seat.
"Your master. I know who he is. I know what he is planning." Sebastian waited for a reaction, but Harlow simply stared at him from his bowed over position. "Tell me. Did he have some sort of binding trap for containment of his...asset?"
___•___
An hour later, while Sebastian scribbled furiously in his notebook, Harlow sat dead in his chair— a grim smile set on his face.