Unrepentant

He hadn't slept at all that night. His mind was haunted by ghosts of the past. Her smile. Her hair. Her touch. He knew he was wrong, thinking about it all now, he knew that that girl never loved him and that she didn't love him now either. But the images continued to plaster his brain.
She was drunk. He could smell it on her when she held him. She'd retreated to the three broomsticks alone after doing Merlin knows what all day. And Thomas didn't look happy. No, infact the gentleman had almost appeared vexed. At her, but also at him. He had seemed so content all week until last night. It was as though Sebastian's presence had ruined everything. He had told him that she did this often, ran off and drank. That each time she waited for him. Why?
He was confused and tired and angry all at once. What right did she think she had to hold him. After everything she'd done. To act like they were friends. It was like she was a child again.
He couldn't sleep now. Now that hundreds of thoughts flew like phoenixes around him.
He sat on the leather sofa for a while, staring at the empty fireplace infront of him. She had a few things stacked there. A framed photo of her and Proffesor Fig which played a loop of him looking down at her as she smiled for the camera. Next to it was a small China dish, with a slight lip, forbidding Sebastian from looking at its contents without leaving his comfy seat. He sat staring at the dish for a moment, it had delicate green leaves painted on it and tiny blue flowers. His curiosity got the better of him none too soon and he approached the mantle.
Looking into the dish he found a small wooden rabbit, hand carved by the looks of things, and a locket. He allowed himself to pick up the silver necklace. It was a small oval, with a tiny bird of gold that stood out against the silver of the background,. The chain was thin and delicate, and small pearls sat in intervals along its length. He popped it open gently, afraid if he applied too much pressure it may break apart. Inside was a pair of pictures. Proffesor Fig, he was smiling next to a woman his wife he pressumed. It was an old picture, fading with age, with a white crease along the centre. On the others side of the locket was another picture. A picture of a goblin, much fresher then that of Fig. He wasn't smiling like the other photograph. Instead he held in his hands a small metal bird. Sebastian had never seen anything like it, especially not in the hands of a goblin. It looked small and elegant and dainty. He snapped the locket shut once again, these were people she had cared for. People who she had lost. He turned it over in his palm. On the back was a light engraving, it seemed it had faded over time. Worn and barely legible. But he made it out. 'Perhaps it is the greatest grief, after all, to be left on earth when another is gone'

He placed the locket back into the dish with a slow hand. He savoured the quiet, metallic clink it made against the porcelain. On the opposite side of the mantlepiece was another framed photograph. A large horizontal photo, that showcased many people, all sat in rows upon benches. It was captioned ' Class of 1893 '. He picked it up, pulling it closer to his face to examine in detail.
He trailed his eyes along the top row. Ominis stood next to Amit at the end of the row, on the far right was Garath Weasly and Nellie Oggspire. Below them was Everett Clopton and Natsai Onai. He continued to trace the line until his eyes fell on her, second to the left, she wasn't grinning as brightly as the others, instead she had small rather forced looking smile upon her face. Simular to Ominis who stood directly behind her. Imelda stood next to her, donning her usual cocky smirk. On the final row sat Poppy, Adelane, Grace Pinch- Smedly (Of the Pinch-Smedlys) and Nerida Roberts. His heart ached looking at the collection of people he would have once called friends. He imagined himself stood with Ominis in the top row, and Anne sat with Poppy at the bottom. How it was meant to be.

He returned the photo to its spot and continued to look around the room. On a tall bookcase was three books bound in navy blue leather. 'New theory of numerology' ; 'Numerology' and 'Gramatica'. Next to them was a selection of other hardbacks. 'Bestiarium Magicum'  was a thick book, bound in a creamy leather with gold embossing and metal hardware on the corners. 'Dragon Species of Great Britain and Ireland.' A fitting book for the girl. It was a yellow book, which appeared to have the spine of the winged beast of it subject material. 'The Handbook of Hippogriff Psychology' and 'Fowl or Foul? A Study of Hippogriff Brutality' sat in a pair. He continued to browse her collection for a while. 'Charms of Defence and Deterrence' ; 'A Compendium of Common Curses and Their Counter-Actions' ; Common Magical Ailments and Afflictions' ; 'Powers You Never Knew You Had and What To Do With Them Now You've Wised Up' ; 'The Hairy Heart: A Guide to Wizards Who Won't Commit'. Huh, that was an odd book to include amongst serious Magical theory.

He removed himself from the bookshelf heading towards her small office. He had only seen it once. Before being abruptly thrown out, his curiosity peaked everytime she'd slam the door behind her. Both walls were lined with more bookshelves, these books looked newer, all in black with their titles embossed in gold along the spine. Most coverd the dark arts, a few described politics and policing. He spotted one in the top corner called 'Dominating Dementors: A True History of Azkaban". He chuckled to himself when he noticed the scuffs on the wooden shelf beneath it. She clearly read this one alot. Though no matter how many times she did it would never compare to his reality.
He looked down towards her desk. It was messy, coverd in papers. In the centre was a small black type writer, with a piece of paper loaded ready to be used.  Some of the papers were copies of the files he'd read at the ministry, some were statements from witnesses or their doctors. One piece however was different. The stationary had a printed crest on the top naming a Hollyhall for the terminally ill Witch and Wizard. The rest of the note was hand written, messy as though written with a shaking hand, but readable.
- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -
My dear friend,

It's been too long since your last vist. I understand that your job at the Ministry has been keeping you very busy, but I do miss our conversations and the comfort of your presence. As you may already know, my health has taken a turn for the worse, and I fear I have little time left.

Despite the circumstances, I am determined to make the most of the time I have. I have some happy news to share with you - I am planning to marry my Simon, the boy I have been telling you about. We have been together for a while now, and he has been my rock throughout my illness. His love and support have made this difficult journey a lot easier, and I am grateful for every moment we have spent together.

I hope that you can find some time in your busy schedule to come and visit me soon. I would love to introduce you to my fiancé and im missing my weekly chocolate frog. I know that you will be happy to see me happy and surrounded by love, even in these trying times.

On a more somber note, I wanted to ask you about my brother. He has been in prison for nine years now, and I fear he may also be declining. I worry about him a lot, especially now that I am facing this fate. I hope that he can find some comfort and strength in the knowledge that his sister loves him even now, and always will.

Please vist soon, I miss you dearly.

With love and gratitude,

Your Anne.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

Tears welled in his eyes, fighting to bleed onto the sprawled note in his hands. His already busy mind burst with emotion. Anne was dying. But she was happy, getting married even, comfortable. He hated that he never got to see her like that. In love. He wondered if she'd noticed it in him, when she met the girl for the first time. His sister had written to him soon after, commending him on his beautiful new friend who was 'So kind and understanding of it all' she had told him it felt as if she understood her. It seems nothing had changed, they still spoke apparently weekly.
He read the note again and again. Until it his him. It hit harder then any spell that had ever been thrown in his direction. ' his sister loves him even now, and always will.'
The sudden scream pulled him from his somber isolation. And before he knew where his feet were taking him, he had bolted towards the bedroom at the end of the corridor. He threw her door open and saw her, her bedsheets a mess around her legs.
He sat on the edge of the bed, watching the girl as she slept fitfully. Her face contorted in fear, she tossed and turned, whimpering softly. He could see the fear in her eyes even though they were closed. As he watched her, he noticed that her breathing was becoming more rapid and shallow. He knew that this could be a sign of a panic attack, and he didn't want to risk leaving her alone if she needed his help.
Finally, he made his decision. He reached out and gently touched her shoulder, calling her name softly. She was shaken. No. She was being shaken. She began to wake. "There you are. Its ok. It was just a dream." She stares at him idolly for a moment.
"Here," He lifted a vial to her lips, Dreamless sleep. He barely remembered grabbing it as he ran past the glass cabinet as he ran through the house. She took it immediately, as her eyes began to flutter. He continued to look down at her as her heartrate slowed and her eyes shut.
He left the room as quickly as he could, afraid of what might become of his muddled brain if he remained. But he stayed by her door, back pressed against the wall, replaying the entire evening in his head over and over until her face had cemented itself in his peripheral vision. She didn't stir again, but he didn't move, even as the sun rose over the cliff out of the window. He didn't move until he heard her call out his name.
"Sebastian, Can you get me a Wiggenweld Potion from the cabinet please, I feel like I'm dying in here!"