Unrepentant

When she returned to the room, the man trailing behind her looked deflated. Somewhere deep inside himself satisfaction stirred, though he pushed this as far down as he could, afraid the familiar female would spot it.
“What do you think?” she gestured towards the pile of papers in his lap, taking a single step closer.
“I think that he should leave.” Sebastian gesture towards the man he had grown such a strong disliking for, in a similar nonchalantness to how professor Bimes used to wave at the Black board.
“and I don’t think you’re in any position to be demanding things buddy, you’re only here because,”
“Thomas, leave us.” She interrupted his agitated rambling, her voice remaining calm an methodical like it had the entire time they had been together.
“But. No I wont leave you. What if he attacks you, what then. Did you forget you just collected him from a high security prison” His face looked as though he had just been slapped. As his words tumbled at such speed Sebastian could barely decipher them.
“Did you forget that I could handle it, leave Thomas.”
“but..”
“Now.” She near enough growled at him as he turned around, rolled his eyes, and slowly headed to the door his left hand balled into a fist, cupped by the other. He couldn’t help himself, “Don’t let the door hit you on the way out!” he called cheerfully after, earning a grunt from the departing man.
“So”
“ He’s a pot of sunshine isn’t he.” Sebastian couldn’t stop it now.
“He’s not always like that, he doesn’t trust you.” She glanced at her brown leather boots, her braided hair toppling over her shoulder.
“Why ever not.” The sarcasm was coming in floods now. Every word he spoke was another silent dig at his situation. He needed her to know how much he resented this place. How he resented the dynamic between them. He hated that he was sat here, once again at her mercy, the threat of Azkaban hanging silently in the air with every question. He hated it. He hated how once again his life was in her control. He hated how her scarlet coat reminded him of every day he lost because of her. He hated how Thomas Rutherford stood in his place, so alike in appearance. It was as though he’d been chosen specifically to taunt him. To remind him he has always been replaceable to her. That there would always be another ambitious boy to stand behind her, invisible to everyone else. For a second he pitied the man. Did he know about their history. Did he know that it was her that put him in that high security prison. The words ripped at his heart, ‘I wont leave you, what if he attacks you’, he had such loyalty to the girl. How long had they known each other. Did they meet in training? Or did they meet much later after being partnered up on an assignment. She spoke like she knew him well. Did he know her well? Did he know that she hated spiders even though she fought them daily, did he know her favourite class was care of magical beast even though she excelled in defence against the dark arts. Was he aware that her favorite sweets were pepper imps because she'd liked how the spice made her tongue feel. Did his replacement know her like he had.
“The cases are almost identical to the curse on Anne,” she broke the silence again. “ Which means that if I was right about Rookwood, then others know about the curse, and if I wasn’t. The man who cursed her is still out there.”
At that moment you wouldn’t be chastised for thinking that the wooden floor of the modest office had held the secrets to eternal life, both sets of eye set unmoving on the swirling oak grain. So many thoughts filled his head. Rookwood, Goblins, curses, Ancient magic, Isadora, Ranrock…
Anne.
“Do you know anything at all.” All the sarcasm, the mockery it had all left his voice, replacing itself with disquiet.
“ We have a few witnesses, though most are severely traumatised, the attacks…” she stopped for a moment more, clasping her hands together in front of her and rocking gently the balls of her feet. a habit she clearly never kick from when they were children.
“ the attacks have been much more then just the curses. They pillage villages, they burn houses to the ground and salt the earth. The make life unliveable for the people they attack. But they’ve yet to kill anyone.” She looked up to face him. Her sharp eyes glared into his head. He felt like he was being reprimanded as he returned his gaze to the all knowing mysteries of the floor. “Where have the attacks been happening?” another long pause.
“5 in Greater London, 3 in Oxfordshire, 1 in Aberdeenshire,1 in Cumbria and the final two were in the valley.”
“near Hogwarts?”
“yes, disturbingly close actually. Cragcroftshire was decimated, but we manged to save much of Irondale, as we have some ex aurors based there who reported the attack.”
“Irondale?” Sebastian’s voice broke, and he silently cursed himself for it. So much for not letting her see you, he was basically crying in front of her. “Is Feldcroft safe?” he felt selfish, he should be hurt by the attack on his neighbours but instead all he could do was worry for his home. Surely they’d attack there. If they were dark wizards, which its fairly certain they are, surely the catacombs would be valuable, surely Rookwood castle would appeal to them, the ancient magic. If the ancient magic wielder was correct, and Rookwood had cursed Anne, whose to say he didn’t teach others.
“No, we have men based there, some of our best. Feldcroft is of particular priority for the ministry.”
“because of that god forsaken magic.” He looked at her. He wanted his words to bury into her head, into her heart. Her magic. Her god forsaken ancient magic. The same ancient magic that had started a rebellion. The same magic that gotten his sister cursed. Of course the ministry wants it. He looked at her again, closely, is eyes meeting hers. But this time he held her gaze. Dark Navy Blue, like a turbulent ocean, with fleck of gold, like sparks off a grind saw. No, the ministry already had it.