Unrepentant

He found himself stood in a quintessential English cottage. The walls were covered in a soft green wallpaper, with small white daisies that danced around magically as though caught by the wind. The floor was polished oak but little of it could be seen under the hefty amount of ornate rugs that had been lain across it. Papers, books and other discarded diagrams litterd the floor, a tall pile of old looking books was stacked precariously on the arm of a long leather sofa. The brown material was scratched and creased, looking just as well worn as the rest of the small room. The low coffee table contained 4 empty unwashed mugs, each a different size shape and design and a bowl of assorted chocolates sat in the centre of the mess. The room was cozy, and incredibly warm in comparison to the ancient prison he had been held in for the best part if the decade. It took all of the mans willpower not to dive on the sofa in his ratted, dirty clothes and choose one of the girls many books to read infront if the open fireplace.
But this was not a social vist.
"Nice house."
"It was a gift." Was all she said before darting into the adjacent room. He followed her, unsure of were else to go, into a small kitchen. Something boiled over a small stove, and the smell had sent the boy into a sense of euphoria, as she stirred it slowly.
"Go through to the room at the end of the corridor, there's some clothes on the bed, you can stay in there. There's a bathroom next door if you need a shower." It felt more like a command then a suggestion. The anger still filled her words, though the auror was much better at maintaining her niceties. Despite really wanting to stay amongst the pleasant smells in the kitchen, he dragged himself down the hall as she asked, not wanting to trade the warm house for a cell.
The room was just as messy as the rest of the house. More books were stacked on the floor, though a selection of much more expensive looking encyclopaedias were placed neatly on a handcarved wooden bookshelf that filled in the right corner of the room. Next to it was a matching Vanity. He looked down at the selection of objects that were settled on it, a hairbrush with a metal handle, a bottle of pink perfume, a compact of rouge and a single red lipstick. He tried to imagine the girl in makeup. The image wouldn't come to him. He looked up at the mirror. If he thought he looked bad in the reflection of the tiles in the ministry, seeing himself fully was almost enough to make him scream. He looked like he was dying. His eyes held deep cut purple bags underneath them, and his freckled had faded from lack of sunlight. His lips were pale and cracked. He looked ghostly.
Tearing his eyes away from the mirror he continued to explore her room. Her bed was perfectly made, a harsh contrast to how she left her lounge. A set if ivory sheets spread neatly over its wooden frame. On top of it sat a set of simple clothing, just as she'd said. A plain white shirt and a pair of black trousers. Nothing particularly eye catching but anything was better then the old clothes on his back.
As he picked up the pile and went to exit the room once more in pursuit of the bathroom his eyes rested on a large pinboard. On the end of each pin was a small shell, each a different shape and colour. They pined a series of moving portraits to the Cork frame.
On one was a picture of the woman, looking slightly younger then she did today, stood next to her friend Poppy Sweeting. They were both beaming as a pair of fwoopers perched on there shoulders. The image caught her and the other young girl as they laughed at loosing there balance. He took in her laugh each time it looped over. She looked so happy.
On another the girl was busying herself with magic, sparks flying from her hands. The girl across from her, Natsai Onai was talking to her intently waving her hands slightly too.This must have been when she began learning wandless magic.
A newspaper clipping hung near the top. The picture, her and Thomas Rutherford in there red uniform, was captioned 'Bright young Aurors solve decade long case. '
Next to it was a photograph of one person. Ominis Gaunt, sat in white robes, smiling softly at her. He held a long piece of parchment in his hands, Sebastian could only barely make out what it said, 'This Certificate hearby states, that the Mr Ominis Scorpius Gaunt is qualified as a healer by the ministry of magical health and welfare.'. Sebastian couldn't say he expected this. Ominis had never shown any passion for healing, he detested potions and barely coped with herbology. He wondered what the boy was doing. Whatever it was, she was there when he got his qualification, taking his photo.
Other photographs littered the board. A ginger boy he could only assume was Gareth Weasly was stood infront of a bright blue shop facade, two girls on brooms, Imelda. An Asian boy in a graduation cap, Amit? He'd grown considerably. Another photograph of a boy on a broom, in Gryfindor quidditch uniform. Sebastian didn't recognise them. The girl alongside proffesor Fig, she looked younger then he'd ever remembered seeing her, perhaps this was from before she came to hogwarts.
A final photograph caught his attention. The girl sat laughing on the edge of a white metal bedframe, a row of chocolate frog cards laced the walls behind her, and head tucked in her neck, Anne Sallow was smiling peacefully.
Sebastian left the room and locked himself in the bathroom nextdoor.
Why had she gotten to know Anne when he couldn't. Why could she make her smile. It wasn't fair. That was his sister. He pulled open the curtain and got into the small bathtub. He ran the water scolding hot. He removed the torn shirt from his chest and the dusty trousers from his bottom and submerged himself in the water. It burnt him, as it incased his body in its heat. Finally the burning anger inside him matched what he could feel on his skin. Who did she think she was, holding her like that. Anne needed her brother. That girl was not her family. And Ominis. How could he smile at her like. After what she did to him. His skin was red. He had a splitting headache. Images of his friend, his sister, smiling happily alongside the woman hit him like bricks. He made up stories in his head. The three of them at the beach. Her and Ominis graduating hogwarts. Anne talking to her about her life. Trusting her. Even loving her.
Had you told him, 9 years ago, that his sister would love the girl like that Sebastian likely would have thanked every God he could remember. If you had told him her and Ominis would become close he likely would have celebrated it. But now he resented it. She had everything he wanted. His dream job, his best friend, his sister. It was like all that girl wanted was to bear him. To show him how superior she was. She had taken the place as champion duelist, could convinced his best friend things Sebastian had asked a million times in seconds, had the power to remove pain and now she could make his sister smile better then he ever could, had become an accomplished auror so much so that she had private meetings with the most powerful man on the wizengamot and still had all of her friends from school and more, friends who were blindly loyal to her.
He felt as though fate was punishing him fro some unrevealed crime. If she didn't exist, with her ancient magic that caused so much pain to everyone around her, Anne may not be sick, he and Ominis would still be friends, living together in London like they had planned, he would have become an auror, his uncle would still be alive.
If she had never existed, Sebastian Sallow's life would have been perfect.