what if? // sebastian sallow

In the Shadow of Memories

"Sebastian, please. Don't do this. I'm begging you," I plead, gazing across the room at him. He has a strangely haunted look on his face.

As usual, he acts as if he cannot hear a word that I'm saying.

"I shan't forget this," he continues, slowly lifting his wand to point it at me. The glowing engraving of CRUCIO on the floor reflects eerily in his eyes. The realization sinks in that he's become someone that I hardly recognize.

He brandishes his wand, but just as I start to brace myself, I suddenly jolt awake.

To my relief, I'm wrapped up safely in my silken bedsheets, the early morning sunlight filtering through the translucent green curtains onto my face.

It was just a dream. I sigh in relief, pulling the covers over my head.

Even though it's been nearly three years since the trauma that Sebastian Sallow and I went through together in our fifth year at Hogwarts, the nightmares still haunt me regularly. It's come to the point where I dread the moment I have to force myself to go to bed each night.

Usually, I brew a pot of coffee in the common room at midnight, then proceed to wander the hallways of Hogwarts until I tire myself out to the point of utter exhaustion.

Most nights during my solo adventures, I find myself at the Astronomy tower, gazing out at the stars. They always twinkle back at me, inexplicably. Sometimes, Amit will join me out there. He used to talk my ear off when he'd find me in the tower late at night, but over time, he has mellowed out. I think he understands that sometimes I want to just sit with my thoughts in silence. That being said, I could listen to him talk about the constellations all night long. I used to write him off as a nerd, but he's matured into a soft, comforting presence. He's become a great friend to me over the years. He helps the nights feel much shorter than they would if I were completely alone. Many times, I find myself drifting off to the familiarity of his rants about the stars.

After lounging underneath the covers for another half hour, I hear someone's footsteps approaching my bedside.

"Wake up, Jasmine! I know you were out late again last night, but come on! I thought we were going to practice flying together this morning! Who else is going to keep me on my toes? You KNOW no one else here even comes close to meeting my standards."

I laugh at Imelda's impatience. "Give me a chance to at least open my eyes, Mel! I'll be right there."

"I'll see you at the Quidditch field! You have fifteen minutes. If you take too long, I'm starting without you!"

I hear her muttering under her breath as she leaves the room, and it takes everything I have not to burst out laughing at her again.

I force myself out of bed for Imelda's sake, if nothing else. Once I brush my teeth and get dressed in my sporting robes, I decide to check my owl's letters before heading to the field. To my surprise, I see that I do indeed have a letter.

I recognize the messy handwriting immediately, and my hands start to tremble as soon as I realize that it's from Sebastian. No matter how many years have passed, he still has the same effect on me. Whenever I think of him nowadays, a sharp ache of nostalgia, pain, and longing washes over me all at once.

We went through so much together, and once used to be so close. However, after the events in our fifth year, Sebastian had grown distant. I had tried to reach out to him over and over again, but my owls went unanswered, and he barely acknowledged me in the hallways.

Eventually, I had given up on my efforts to contact him, and Sebastian never cared to explain what caused the huge rift between us. However, not a day has gone by where he hasn't crossed my mind. We've exchanged maybe a few words in the last few years, but that's all they were — words. Empty words with hardly any meaning behind them. Even as I asked him mundane questions about class or about his day, I would desperately search his eyes for some glimpse of emotion. I wanted so badly for him to acknowledge what we used to be. But he always had an empty look in his eyes when he looked at me — as if he had completely dismissed my existence. I think that alone hurt me more than anything he could have said.

Finally, now, I stand here with a letter from him, filled with potential. My fingers continue to shake as I pry open the envelope. I can only hope that his words will actually mean something this time.