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

[nineteen]

Special A/N at the end!

We're just over the halfway point now, which means both the angst and the fluff will start ramping up in intensity! If you've stuck around this long, thank you, thank you, thank you!

Since wattpad is scrapping their DM feature soon, feel free to come hang out over on tumblr, where I like to ramble about Sebaura and Villain and post lots of cute game piccies: @morelikeravenbore

Enjoy, and thanks for reading!

-x-

Thanks to the sheer intensity of Sebastian's enchanted flames, the Undercroft was so sweltering hot that if Aurélie closed her eyes, she could almost fancy herself back in the south of France; the crackle of the flames nothing but waves breaking on the shoreline, the drone of Sebastian's voice as he pontificated about magic simply the ocean breeze humming through the dunes.

It may have been the October chill that finally drew her into the underground cavern, but it was the company that'd kept her coming back every day for a week.

Sebastian, who'd been pacing in front of a blackboard for the better part of an hour, was so excited by the obscure reference to Ancient Magic he'd found in an equally obscure old book that he seemed not to notice the heat — or at least, he'd gotten so used to it that his damp shirt and flushed skin no longer bothered him. His sleeves were pushed up to his elbows, tie long-discarded and top buttons askew, and wisps of damp hair were curled around his face in a way that endeared the still-youthful flush of his cheeks despite the dark circles under his eyes.

In spite of the mounting pressures of their seventh-year commitments, Sebastian hadn't wavered in his promise to help her. For a week straight, whether still in his Quidditch uniform, tracking muddy feet across the flagstones, or fresh from the infirmary, his eyes brightened by the thrill of having cured a head cold or mended a broken bone, he came armed with books and parchments and theories that might help them understand the nature of her gift.

Today they'd met earlier than usual, taking advantage of a double free period to squeeze in an impromptu study session before their extracurriculars separated them again.

Aurélie had to admit, watching Sebastian when he was caught up in his studies was quite a sight to behold. Curled up on the lumpy old sofa under the pretence of taking notes, she was free to observe his little unconscious mannerisms: the crease between his brows, the way he bit his bottom lip when he was concentrating —single-minded in the same way she imagined his Ravenclaw mother might've been.

She wondered about his family as she doodled idly on a scrap of parchment. Which of his parents did he take after most? Were his freckles his mothers' or his fathers'? Had Anne possessed the same unruly hair, the same honey-sweetened eyes? And what of his loyalty? His unwavering commitment to help someone in need? Ominis had told her that loyalty was a Sallow trait, but that Sebastian's tenacity took it too far:

When he wants something, he will go to great lengths to get it.

But was that really such a bad thing?

'Aurélie!'

With a little gasp, Aurélie jolted out of her reverie to find a pair of very annoyed brown eyes fixed upon her, their usual warmth made molten by the flickering of ten thousand or more magically potent flames above them; Sebastian had abandoned his frenetic lecture on the theories of Ancient Magic to glare down his nose at her, his arms folded across his chest.

'Are you even listening to me?'

She flashed him a sheepish grin. 'Yes,' she said, gesturing vaguely at her parchment. 'I'm taking notes. See?'