How to Make a Villain - [Sebastian Sallow x F!OC]

Step One: Introduce Initial Trauma

If Aurélie Collins had to choose one word to best describe herself, she supposed it would be — to put it as delicately as she could — "completely and utterly overwhelmed." Granted, that was four words, not one, but as she trudged down yet another unfamiliar corridor, she was just relieved she could string together a coherent sentence at all; after the last few months of hell she'd endured, Aurélie wasn't her usual eloquent self, to say the least.

She hadn't always been that way — overwhelmed, that is. In fact, if asked only a few months ago to describe herself, she would've said she was dutiful, quick-witted, and, if not brave, then definitely unafraid of facing challenges head-on. She'd been a confident girl once; she got good grades, always did as she was asked and never stepped a toe out of line, and everyone, from her parents and teachers to her friends and peers, knew that Aurélie Collins would go on to achieve whatever she set her mind to.

Now, though? Well, nowadays she was too exhausted to set her mind on anything. Since she'd been forced to start a new school in a new country — in the seventh and final year of her magical education at that — Aurélie felt that the only substantial thing about her was the crushing sadness that pervaded her every waking thought, as if every other part of her had been utterly annihilated by grief. Not that she allowed herself to feel any of that grief if she could help it — but it was always there, heavy and relentless, weighing her down like a wet blanket as she tried to swim through the rapidly changing currents of her new life.

Breathe, Aurélie, she told herself as she trekked ever deeper into the immense stone castle that was her new school. You've handled worse than this.

But this was a lie; she hadn't handled anything worse than this. The truth was that she was adrift in a perpetual ocean of grief that constantly threatened to drown her. She had no anchor, nothing to tether her to anything solid.

And this new school of hers certainly wasn't doing anything to improve her situation.

Bloody Hogwarts.

Of all places she'd ever imagined herself living, the freezing cold Scottish highlands was absolutely not one of them. But, then again, she wouldn't have believed she'd be an orphan at seventeen either, yet here she was.

Hogwarts was famous, of course. Heralded as the pinnacle of magical education and the top school in the wizarding world, most witches and wizards were honoured to attend such a prestigious establishment. But Aurélie Collins was of the opinion that every bloody thing at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry was confusing, unnecessary, or just downright nonsensical. From the ever-changing floorplan to the myriad of talking portraits (all of whom gave her wildly conflicting directions depending on which ones she asked), nothing about Hogwarts made any sense.

Aurélie was almost in tears by the time she reached another dead end. It was simply impossible to find one's way around a school like this; there were too many floors to navigate, too many disused classrooms and far too many staircases that led to absolutely nowhere. Not to mention, beyond its confusing floorplan and unbearably draughty rooms, the ancient hulking castle was rather ugly - by Aurélie's standards at least. The monolithic Gothic castle was so far removed from the elegance and charm of Beauxbatons that it seemed almost cruel that she should be forced to endure it at all. She could almost hear her best friend Céleste's reaction if she were with her now. 'Ugh, it's so awfully - medieval,' she would say. 'Stone Gargoyles? And all those uncouth English boys? I don't know which I find more barbaric!'

She almost smiled at the thought. But only almost - for thinking of her best friend only made her sad.

Aurélie shook herself mentally, shifting the weight of her books from one arm to the other. She did not like thinking about her old life, least of all on her first day of school while she was lost in a labyrinth of corridors and classrooms.