#daniel belby

"Tried what?" 

"Taking away the pain," Dan spoke to the cracks in the stone near his foot. "Like Isidora did." 

The silence was so absolute he could hear a group laughing in the corridor above. Must be nice, being there. 

"Did it work?" 

Sebastian's footsteps were already echoing through the room, closing the distance between them. The urgency in motion and in his voice made Dan look up before he realised it. Sebastian's face was right in front of him, those dark brown eyes already brightening with cautious hope. The very hope Dan was about to destroy. 

Dad had told him not to share any hasty conclusions with anyone, and he didn't for a while. But today was just too much. 

First, he told Sebastian about all the attempts with emotions, just like in those memories. How it left people different from how they were before, how it seemed to mess with their minds more as time went on. For the first time, he admitted aloud how strangely the process affected him too, filling his mind with so much that was foreign and painful. He hadn't even told Dad that part yet, but he would prefer never to try it again. 

He also told how Dad had wanted to test the same approach with a curse ever since Dan mentioned Sebastian's theory, the one he'd never taken to the Keepers. How they'd prepared, or thought they had. 

And then he told about the man. Cursed since this summer, suffering from something incurable that was rapidly consuming his body. He didn't mention why the man couldn't have gone to the healers, though. Not that it mattered anymore anyway. 

Sebastian lit a few nearby candelabras, letting the faint heat spread from their flames, then lowered himself to sit on the floor as well. He seemed to stop breathing as he listened, turning his wand over and over in his hand.

"It felt so, so wrong from the start, but I—" he stopped, Dad's voice cutting through the panicked memory. Keep going. "I kept trying. And he got worse... I mean it, that was really fucking bad. I swear, I tried all I could." He turned to Sebastian, needing him to really hear this. Not that he had to—Sebastian was completely focused on him the entire time. "To remove it, and when he... I tried even harder to stop it, but that didn't work either." 

"By didn't work..." 

"He's dead." 

He knew what Sebastian had been thinking all this time, ever since they'd seen that memory together. Could hear it in every asked and unasked question throughout many months. Could feel it in every look—the reminder that he'd promised to try. 

He'd thought he hated making Sebastian wait, but what he really hated was taking all of that hope away now. Admitting to being not simply useless but dangerous.

But Sebastian didn't gasp or flinch at his horrible confession. He only frowned slightly—no more than he would have frowned at Dan falling asleep while Sebastian was working through complicated Arithmancy equations for their homework. 

"You mean it's that different from—?" 

"It's nothing like emotions and nothing like jinxes or hexes, even though you'd think it would be." Dan's voice rose despite himself. Didn't Sebastian understand? "It wasn't even just tangled or confusing. It was absolutely clear that it had blended into everything alive. Every time I tried harder, it was like... like breaking everything at once." 

Sebastian reached out, his hand settling on Dan's shoulder. "Listen. This is advanced magic that no one's performed in centuries. It's not your fault you didn't figure it out at once." 

"But it is." Dan pulled away as far as the pillar behind his back would let him, shaking his head. "Of course it bloody is." 

"But you also said it seemed like it worked at the beginning. So what I think is—it did work, at least partially. You just didn't expect so many complications. That's understandable."

Everything always sounded so logical when Sebastian said it like that. Like they were discussing how to fix a failed transfiguration attempt in class. 

Sebastian's fingers were now tapping against the floor. As if he wanted to reach for a quill to write something down. 

Dan couldn't place why that bothered him at first, but then it clicked. That's what Dad had done. Writing things down while listening to him. While that man's body was still lying there on the floor, the flickering firelight made the shadows shift so it looked like the corpse was still twitching. 

It happens in research, Danny. You need to rest. 

"Do you really need to be reminded that people dying is not normal?" Dan's voice came out quiet and cold in the most unusual way for him. 

"I didn't say it was normal." Sebastian continued, like the words didn't bother him at all. Not in this moment, at least. "Of course, you don't have to keep trying on people yet. We can come up with smaller steps. Maybe... Actually, do you think it might be removed in smaller parts?" 

Dan suddenly felt helpless—like standing at the fragile edge of something dark he couldn't see the bottom of, realising the fall was just as inevitable as it was deadly. 

"I need to—" His voice came out rough. "I should get some sleep."

He didn't let Sebastian stop him. Didn't even grab his cloak from where it still lay on the floor. 

He usually didn't regret talking openly to his closest people. Today, he'd felt that regret twice, and he hadn't been ready for it either time.

//

By the time he reached the Gryffindor common room, he already hated himself for those thoughts and for leaving Sebastian like that. 

Before he reached the stairs, Diana grabbed his arm, holding her broom already in her other hand. "Danny! Did you know the giant squid loves sandwiches?" 

Any other night, he'd already be fetching his own broom and racing her to the lake. But all he could manage was some lame excuse before fleeing to his dormitory.

He was still awake when his owl returned from the night hunt through the enchanted window, landing on the perch with a soft ruffle of wings. He hadn't realised he'd been hoping until he saw that Atlas carried no letter.

There's still a chance this might work.

He didn't have to take that hope away from everyone just because he got scared after one failed attempt. An attempt no one could have predicted the outcome of.

We all knew the risks.

It's not your fault.

He ran both hands through his hair, pressing hard, as if trying to physically push the confusion out of his head. 

Of course, they understood magic far better than he did. He'd only been studying it for the second year. 

No, alright. 

He was probably mistaken about it all. Not focused enough. Not ready for the complications. 

To find out, he just had to stop being a coward and try again. Do better with whatever smaller steps Sebastian comes up with. 

Simple as that. 

♦️ Born: Daniel Belby was born on December 1st, 1874 (canon MC age). First 7 years of his life spent far from civilisation because of his father's research work. Moved to a town with his mother to live with the grandparents after the incident. Went to school where he most loved being around other kids. Preferred to find any work and earn money to doing homework.

♦️ House: Gryffindor 🦁 loud and proud.

♦️ Blood status: Half-blood. Mother and all her family were muggles; father was a wizard. He was growing up knowing about magic and hoping it would develop in him, and was disappointed when it wasn't happening. He won't tolerate discrimination by blood status and won't be quiet in his disagreement.

♦️ Favourite subjects: DADA and Charms for useful spells and practical homework; Beasts because he's always been good with animals;

♦️ Least favourite subjects: Divinancy for denying to believe destiny can be pre-decided in any way and not wanting to know even if it can. Herbology for hating the garden work; Potions for requiring more focus and attention span than ever existed in his body.