Unrepentant

He opened the simply wrapped package at the edge of her bed. He untied the bow, tying the ribbon around his wrist in a neatly to keep safe. Gentle, as he could, he pulled away the brown paper. In the parcel was a jumper. Green with a single grey stripe through the centre. He ran his figures along the fabric; it was smooth, warm, and thin. Cashmere. He pulled off his white nightwear, revealing his freckled chest in the mirror opposite him. He stared at himself for a moment. He was slim; he had gained a little weight since he had arrived a few days earlier, barely noticeable to most, but it made him smile. His freckles were beginning to show through again across his face, down his neck and sprinkling over his shoulders. He grabbed the green jumper and pulled it over his head, finding comfort in its gentle warmth like a tight hug. He pulled on his same black trousers and brown leather coat, fixed his hair - which he found had grown far too long - and tied the laces of his simple loafers.
He returned to find her holding a new suede satchel, which she was hurriedly filling with papers and potions.
"Any chance I could get a haircut?" She looked up at him. Her face was a picture of confusion as she swung the bag over her shoulder and fastened her wand into its holster, buckled to her thigh. She glanced at his hair and then back at him.
"If we have time this evening, I'll get Tom to take you to the barber. You're right; it's disastrously long." Taken aback, Sebastain's mouth hung slightly agape as she passed him, heading quickly towards her office. He knew it was bad and hated it himself, but he didn't want her to tell him. She walked over to him finally, grabbing his arm lightly before teleporting them both to the familiar office, where Thomas was pacing.
"There you both are. What time do you call this then?"
"Sorry, my fault."
"OK. How are you feeling, sweetheart, up for this?"
"When am I not? Fill us in."
He glanced towards the boy. Then back at the girl. gesturing at them to sit.
"We've got clearance to infiltrate The Red Virtue. It's got to be fully undercover, though. The ministry can't afford a fight breaking out in the muggle domain in accordance with the statute of secrecy. Not in London. A mass Obliviation would be risky."
"And if a fight does breakout?" She spoke like it was the most obvious outcome of the day.
"We contain it to the building; I'd have to leave the fight to cast defensive charms, which would leave you without backup. So we don't want that. Understood." She nodded quickly. "Now, since it gets busiest at night, and you've failed to do any prep on this mission at all, sweetheart, we'll use this morning to cover all our bases.".

Hours went by, the same information hurtling his way as Thomas tried to catch her up. She couldn't have looked less impressed if she tried.
"If we get this right, if they left anything in this pub, then we can find them." He glanced up at the clock before grabbing his wand from the table. It was short and thick with some sort of runic carvings along the side, a light maple from the looks of it. A humble wand. He flicked it slightly, aimed at an empty chair at the end of the room. In a swirl of magic, a pile of clothes appears.
"Go ahead; there's something there for all of us; we'll head off when we're dressed." Sebastian glanced at the girl whose eye lay fixed on the same map he'd read every day since he arrived. Pity she wasn't studying it with them, he hoped whatever research she was doing had come to some result. When she didn't move, he headed towards the corner himself. Thomas flicked his wand once more, and a blue velvet curtain surrounded him, allowing himself to change in private.
The outfit was terrible. It was everything that Sebastian never wanted to be, and yet it was everything he was perceived as. A plain black shirt and trousers, pressed and steamed to perfection. The cloak was thick and shapely, with a heavy shoulder pad that made the gaunt man look almost skeletal. It flowed down to his ankles, swishing dramatically with every movement. Embroided onto the Lapels was a pair of grindylows that swam in small spirals across the fabric. It was sinched at the waist, highlighting Sebastian's less bulky figure and was held together by a golden tentacle pin. He had been provided a pair of shining patent black shoes that looked like something Ominis would have been sent by his parents when his old pair got scuffed. He looked the picture of a dark wizard. He hated it.
He walked out, appearing far more confident in his walk, wearing the layers of black designer than he had in his standardised ministry slacks, but he longed for the embrace of the cashmere jumper.
She looked towards him as he approached the pair of aurors.
"Well, you look right at home." Thomas did not sound like he was joking; any affibilty he had earned from man in the previous days had disappeared from his voice, replaced by a ice cold tone and a deathly glare.
The girl rose from her seat silently, heading towards the makeshift dressing room he had only momentarily left.
She returned not 5 minutes later, dressed up to the nines in beautiful emerald green. The dress she wore was a shining satin that reflected the light in such a way that the woman looked like a jewel. Her collarbone remained uncovered by the soft fabric but was instead decorated with lines of floating pearls and diamonds that traced their way up her neck. She wore a pair of matching green heels that tapped tunefully on on the floor below her, and long black stocking that could barely be seen behind the scandalous slit the ruffled its way along the side of her, drawing the fabric in billows that cascaded down her thigh. But what caught his attention most of all was her face. She wore a light rouge and subtle cat like eyeliner. She had drawn upon her check a faint black beauty mark, and her lips were painted a deep wine red. But most of all, her scars had all but disappeared. It made his head hurt looking at her like this, so unlike herself, so polished and perfect. And yet, it fits her new demenor perfectly. How she held herself, how she spoke, how every word she said sounded straight out of a handbook. The figure in front of him was the imulgmation of everything she was trying to be. And it felt so wrong.
As Thomas left to change himself, the woman stood hovering above the hundreds of maps strawn across the desks as she fixed a large black hat to her head.
"Are you going to be able to do this, Mr Sallow?" And there it was again, that cold unrecognition. The pretend authoritarian act that made his skin crawl. The continual reminder that to her, he is pawn in her everlasting game of chess with whatever cosmic force had chosen her as their opponent the day they were born.
"How hard could it be." She looked like she wanted to say something, but Thomas walked out not a moment later.
"OK let's go." He stormed off towards the door of the office.
"Why aren't we appararting?"
She responded quickly. "It's a dark wizard hideout, it's highly dangerous for us to be seen before I can scout the place." It barely answered his question but he chose not to press it further as they approached a floo station.
Thomas stepped inside, grabbing a handful of sand from the small bowl that was bolted to the wall.
"Westminster!" And he disappeared into a flash of green flames.
"Go on, I'll follow after you." She gestured towards the stone fireplace infront of them. He stepped in, grabbing the sand just as the previous man had.
"Westminster!"
He felt the familiar, tickling of the flames as he was sent to the other station, where Thomas stood waiting.