Shadow of a Grave ✧ Sebastian Sallow

chapter seventeen ✧ my sanity

When I'm Dead by Bear Ghost

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Trigger Warning: This chapter includes sensitive conduct - please see the comment for a full description of conduct.

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"Mister Sallow, when did you first arrive back in London?"

"Middle of September. I'm not positive of the exact date."

"Where were you living before that?"

"Gloucester"

"Gloucester? I've been there before. It's a lovely city. What brought you out west?"

"Different Gloucester," Sebastian explained, "A lot further West..."

"Just how far west?" The detective raised.

Sebastian swallowed that growing lump in his throat, before informing them, "The States."

The detective slowly leaned back in their chair and began taking notes in their book once more. As if they were plotting the story of the accused murderer.

Sebastian, while definitely guilty, still hadn't really wanted to give them too much help at ruining his life any more than he already had.

Soft thumps of paperwork flipped in front of the detective as they silently searched for their trap. It felt odd to see so much of his life already put in writing in front of the detective. A feather and pad of parchment flowed over his head as the magic script awaited the continuation of their conversation. The thick smell of ink filled the small room.

It had been hours since being taken from the courtyard. The masked woman had apparated him straight to the small room, cuffed him to the table, and then waited until the detective came to make his final judgment. The woman was likely somewhere nearby since the detective in front of him was more considered about his papers than anything else.

"Our records indicate that they began renting a flat in London around that time, but only month to month, why is that?" The detective finally asked.

"I'm not a fan of London," Sebastian answered truthfully, "I wasn't sure how long I'd be there for."

"Then why stay in London at all then?" He asked.

The detective had to be older than him. Dark black hair was dusted by just a few flakes of silver. Despite the signs of years of experience, the man had a face that was soft and made him look younger. He must have been aware of this fact as he did his best not to smile as he spoke.

What had been the most surprising had been the fact that Sebastian had not been tortured the moment he sat down. He had been preparing himself mentally to be sent straight to Azkaban without a trial to rot in a cell forever. The fact that there was even a detective questioning him at all was a shock.

Marvolo had won, there was no reason for the show of an investigation.

Instead, the young-faced detective still sat calmly in front of him and asked him questions as if he wasn't going to be found guilty regardless of his answers. Sebastian felt almost bad not answering his questions.

"The boat ticket could only bring me to London," He explained in the simplest of terms, "I didn't have much money after that. I was only working within my limits."