#pensieve

"Honestly, Poppy," she whispered, her voice laced with a weariness that Ominis recognized, "I don't know what I'd do without Sebastian's tea. After all those nightmares... and trying to cut back on the draughts... it's been a lifesaver. He just has this knack for making the perfect blend, you know? It's like magic. I sleep like a log, and I don't even crave the other stuff anymore." She chuckled softly, a light, carefree sound that sent a chill down Ominis's spine.

"That's wonderful!" Poppy's gentle voice followed, a hint of hopeful suggestion in her tone. "Or perhaps... it's really Garreth's potions doing all the magic?"

She blushed a little. "Oh, his potions definitely help, Poppy. They really do. But combining them with Sebastian's tea... it's like I sleep like a Mooncalf. It's incredible."

Poppy giggled, nudging her friend playfully. "Or perhaps it's not just the potions... maybe thinking about Garreth making them for you," she said with a knowing smile, "like some kind of heroic potion-master, gives you the best sleep of all!"

"Oh, Poppy, shut it!" she swatted Poppy's arm, a genuine laugh escaping her, though her cheeks remained flushed.

Ominis's grip tightened imperceptibly on his scanning wand. Sebastian's tea. Doesn't crave the other stuff anymore. The words echoed in his mind, twisting into a bitter knot. He had assumed, hoped, that Sebastian had confessed, that she had forgiven him. But this? This was a cold, stark confirmation of Sebastian's continued betrayal. The casualness in her voice, the genuine relief, only made it worse. A cold fury, long simmering beneath Ominis's calm exterior, finally broke through. Sebastian's confession of his spiraling obsession, delivered in a drunken haze, had confirmed Ominis's worst fears, and now this blatant deception. Watching Sebastian's precarious balancing act—juggling classes with relentless, isolating research in the Undercroft—had become unbearable. Ominis's heightened senses still picked up the nocturnal absences, the increasing pallor, the way Sebastian's mind seemed perpetually elsewhere, despite the promises of a 'break.' He knew Sebastian was consumed, and he knew he couldn't let it continue. Sebastian had lied to him, Sebastian had lied to her, and worst, Sebastian was lying to himself. It was time for a direct confrontation.

Without a moment's hesitation, Ominis strode purposefully towards their alcove. His voice, usually calm, held a quiet urgency that cut through their hushed conversation. "I need you in the Undercroft. Now. It's about Sebastian."

As they hurried, Ominis remained tight-lipped about his urgent summons, revealing only that Sebastian's obsession with the Pensieve demanded an immediate intervention. She, however, had been complicit, shielding Sebastian's growing fixation from Ominis, convinced he was on the verge of a breakthrough. Sensing the cold edge of Ominis's anger beneath his calm demeanor, she held her tongue, daring not to press for more details.

They found Sebastian in the Undercroft, utterly consumed by the Pensieve, oblivious to their entrance until Ominis's voice cut through the silence like a sharp, cold blade.

"Sebastian," Ominis's voice was sharp, cutting through the silence of the Undercroft. "This ends now. You're killing yourself. You barely leave this room. You're falling behind in your classes. You're getting sick. This is not helping Anne."

Sebastian slammed his hand on the Pensieve's edge, his face contorted in a wild, desperate fury. "Ominis. You don't understand!" he snarled, glaring at them. "I'm close! I can feel it! This is the only way to find the cure, the only way to save her!" His eyes burned with a desperate, almost manic light as he frantically took notes in his journal.

Ominis ignored his outburst, his blind eyes seeming to bore into Sebastian. "Sebastian..." his voice dropped, becoming deadly quiet, each word heavy with a cold, absolute demand. "You haven't told her, have you?"

She frowned, a ripple of confusion spreading across her face. What could this possibly have to do with me?

Sebastian flinched, his eyes darting frantically between Ominis's unyielding face and her bewildered expression. "Ominis, not now-" he stammered, a desperate denial in his voice.

"Tell her, Sebastian," Ominis demanded. "Tell her about the sleeping draughts," Ominis stated, his voice flat, emotionless, a far greater condemnation than any shout.

"Ominis, stop!" Sebastian roared, his voice raw with desperation.

Ominis's voice, devoid of emotion, cut through Sebastian's protest, delivering the damning truth. "Tell her how you've been slipping them into her tea. Without her knowing. Tell her you enabled her dependency, so you could selfishly delve back into that Pensieve."

The words hung in the air, a chilling void. She stared at Sebastian, her mind reeling, her carefully constructed composure shattering. "He... what?" she asked, the word a raw, disbelieving whisper, her voice barely a breath.

Sebastian's face drained of all color. He looked at her, his expression a mixture of profound shame, raw despair, and a terrifying flicker of defiance. "I... I wasn't..." He whipped his head towards Ominis, eyes blazing with a desperate, cornered fury. "I told you, Ominis! I told you I just wanted to help her sleep! The nightmares were breaking her!" he cried, his voice cracking, but he was losing the argument, losing control.

Her eyes widened, not just with disbelief, but with a dawning, sickening understanding. The casualness of her earlier words to Poppy about Sebastian's 'magical tea' now twisted into a grotesque mockery. A cold dread seeped into her bones, replacing the initial confusion with a searing betrayal. She felt utterly, cruelly tricked, the warmth she had felt for him, the trust she had placed in him, shattered into a million pieces, leaving behind a sharp, bitter shard of deception. A furious tremor ran through her, a sense of being used and manipulated. Her gaze, once soft and understanding, hardened into a fierce, wounded glare. "You... you drugged me?" she whispered, the words laced with a venom she didn't know she possessed. But her words weren't heard; the boys were engrossed in their own discussion. 'All this time...' she thought, 'all those nights I thought I was finally getting better, finally sleeping soundly... it was Sebastian? He lied to me, he used me.' Her chest heaved, a storm of emotions raging within her. The warmth she had felt for him, the trust she had placed in him, shattered into a million pieces.

"You told me she was trying to stop, Sebastian!" Ominis roared, stepping forward, his anger finally breaking through his controlled calm. "You made it worse! What in the blazes were you thinking?!"

A fresh wave of hurt washed over her, sharper and more unexpected than Sebastian's betrayal. Ominis, her steadfast, honest friend, had known. He had known about the draughts, about her unwitting dependency, about Sebastian's continuous acts of drugging her, and he had said nothing. A profound sense of disappointment settled in her chest, heavy and cold. It wasn't just Sebastian who had deceived her; Ominis, too, had kept a crucial, harmful secret. The trust she had placed in his unwavering moral compass now felt shaken, leaving her feeling exposed and profoundly alone in this double deception. Yet, a part of her couldn't fully ignite with anger, for she too had kept secrets from Ominis, concealing Sebastian's growing obsession with the Pensieve.

Sebastian snapped, his own wand flying to his hand, pointing it wildly at Ominis. "You don't understand! I'm just trying to do what's best for everyone!"

"I warned you, Sebastian," Ominis said, his voice menacingly low. He didn't step back; on the contrary, he stood his ground, chest high, unwavering, a pillar of righteous fury. He took out his own wand and pointed at the Pensieve. "I already lost Anne, I won't lose you to this obsession. This is for your own good, believe me!"

Their heated arguments faded into a distant hum as her mind raced, a whirlwind of accusations and self-recrimination.

"Anne is not lost! I can save her," Sebastian's wand twitched, pointing wildly as he spoke.

Sebastian's words and frantic movements jolted her back to the present, a sharp, unwelcome snap from her internal turmoil. In an instant, she moved. Without thinking, without a word, she stepped directly between their raised wands, her ancient magic flaring instinctively around her. A faint, almost imperceptible blue light pulsed from her, a protective aura that Sebastian had never seen before. Even Ominis, blind as he was, could sense the cold, potent energy emanating from her, a chilling proof of the power she wielded. The air around them grew heavy, charged. Both Sebastian and Ominis froze, wands still pointed, but utterly paralyzed by her unexpected intervention and the subtle, potent surge of her magic.

The silence that followed was deafening, thick with unspoken threats and the raw tremor of their suppressed powers. Ominis slowly lowered his wand, a deep sigh escaping him. He turned abruptly, his back to them, and walked in the opposite direction, his rigid posture conveying his profound disapproval and hurt.

"Ominis, wait," she called softly, just before he reached the Undercroft door. She knew how difficult this was for him, how much he cared about Sebastian, how much he missed Anne. "Let me talk to him... Before you make any final decisions about... the memories." She glanced pointedly at the Pensieve. "If he's truly uncontrollable, I will personally destroy the Pensieve myself. You have my word."

Ominis hesitated, a long, agonizing pause that stretched the silence. "I don't care anymore," he said, trying to convince himself, but a sting of humiliation pricked him. He had tried to stand up for her, to protect her, yet she still insisted on trying to control the uncontrollable. Then, with another heavy sigh, he nodded once, barely perceptible. "Just be careful not to drink anything he offers you," he said, his voice bitter. The Undercroft door clanged shut behind him, leaving her alone with Sebastian, the air still thrumming with their recent conflict.

A tremor ran through her, a mix of cold fury and a bewildering ache in her chest. The betrayal was a bitter taste in her mouth, raw and sharp, yet beneath it, a strange current of empathy pulsed. She felt tricked, used, and the anger was a hot, insistent flame. But looking at Sebastian, his back to her, trembling with a raw, desperate energy, she couldn't summon the pure, unadulterated hatred she felt he deserved. A part of her, a deep, persistent part, recognized the desperation that drove him, the pain that twisted him into this unrecognizable version of himself. It was a complex, agonizing knot of emotions: the sting of his deception, the disappointment in Ominis, and the stubborn, illogical thread of compassion that still clung to her heart.

She turned to Sebastian, who was still standing rigid, his back to her, his form trembling with suppressed fury. His hands were clenched at his sides, knuckles white, as if restraining himself from striking out.

She took a deep breath and quickly moved, gently grabbing his clenched, trembling hands, her touch warm and steady. He flinched violently at the contact, but didn't pull away. "Sebastian, you have to stop," she pleaded, her voice now calm and firm, cutting through his rising hysteria. He was breathing heavily, his shoulders hunched. She gently pulled his hands towards her, grounding him with her touch. "Look at yourself. This is not how Anne would like to see you, don't you think? Covered in dust, barely eating, looking like a ghost, fighting your friends again... She wouldn't want this."

Sebastian looked away, his breathing still heavy, but his grip on her hands remained. A darkness flickered in his eyes, a shadow she'd only seen once before: the day he committed the unforgivable. But still, he didn't let go. He stared at the floor, unable to meet her gaze, the shame a burning fire in his gut, the darkness in his eyes slowly fading away.

"Why?" he choked out, the word barely audible, raw with despair. "Why do you keep helping me? Why do you stay by my side after everything I've done? After this?… Come on, we used to tell each other everything. Now I've lied to you, manipulated you, and you... You still stand here?" His eyes, when they finally met hers, were filled with a profound, pleading confusion.

She looked at him, her gaze unwavering, her grip firm. "Because you're my first friend here, Sebastian," she said softly, her voice infused with a quiet strength that grounded him more than her touch. "You were there for me when I arrived. You showed me this world. You taught me to duel, you helped me with my homework, you kept me company in the library, and you helped me defeat countless malevolent forces. You were there, even when I couldn't tell you much about my ancient magic or the Keepers, or Rookwood. You were there, and you asked for nothing in return. And now... now it's my turn to be here for you." She squeezed his hands.

"So what?! Don't be so..." he paused, having trouble finding the words.

"Ignorant?" she teased.

"No," he said, embarrassed about his mess-up after mess-up. "Don't be so naive, please!" Sebastian begged, his voice raw, anger flaring in his eyes, the darkness reigniting. "For Merlin's sake! I drugged you! I kept drugging you, time after time!"

"Sebastian…" she said, pausing. "A part of me, deep down, always suspected that you were giving me draughts. I tried to tell myself it was just your special tea, but I knew. Yet I kept coming back to you. So if you're guilty, I am too, for letting it go on. I'm also guilty of your obsession with the Pensieve, for hiding it from Ominis." Her voice softened further.

"No, you are not, stop trying to... share my guilt..." Sebastian rasped, his frantic energy draining from him. His gaze fell to her hands still holding his, then lifted to her earnest face. The desperate, wild shadows in his eyes softened, replaced by a profound weariness. "Just… stay away from me," he whispered, his voice barely audible, a plea more than a command.

"Haven't you learned already?" she said, her voice gentle but firm, her grip on his hands tightening just slightly. "You don't get to decide who does what. And you don't get to push me away. Not like this. I'm here. And I'm not leaving. Not until you face what you've done, truly face it, and let me help you pick up the pieces."

A heavy silence settled between them, thick with the weight of his confession and her unwavering resolve.

"I'm sorry," Sebastian finally whispered, his voice cracking, the words raw with profound shame and regret. "I don't deserve you. Or Ominis. I don't even deserve Anne." He squeezed her hands, his eyes, still distant, glistening with unshed tears. "I heard you, you know. You told Ominis you would destroy the Pensieve yourself. Go on. Do it. I won't stop you." He tried to pull his hands free, but she held firm.

She simply smiled, a quiet, gentle curve of her lips. "I have another idea," she said softly, her voice steady and calm, unwavering against his despair. "What if we send the Pensieve somewhere else? Somewhere only I know. Somewhere safe. Where, if you ever need to study it again, you would have to ask me to take you… blindfolded." She met his gaze, a challenge and an offer in her eyes.

Sebastian stared at her, utterly puzzled. "What?"

"Come on," she said, pulling gently on his hand. Her steps were light and confident as she led him towards the nearest Floo Network point, her grip firm on his hand despite the curious glances from other students. Sebastian, on the other side, blushed at their stares.

"Off on another adventure, are we?" Ignatia Wildsmith's voice startled him.

She secretly whispered the name, and with a whoosh of green flames, they were instantly transported. They appeared not in a public fireplace, but in the center of a vast, ever-shifting chamber: the Room of Requirement. The air hummed with magic, the walls stretching into impossible distances, currently appearing as a series of perfectly designed plotting stations. Scrolls covered one table, intricately drawn maps on another, and potion stations bubbled gently in a far corner. A small figure suddenly scurried towards them from a hidden alcove.

"Deek!" she said, her voice warm, "Sebastian, this is Deek. He cares for this place." She turned to the House-Elf. "Deek, this is Sebastian. He's a good friend who will likely be visiting by my side. I would appreciate it if you let me know if he ever comes to visit without me."

Deek bowed deeply to Sebastian, his long ears almost brushing the floor, and turned to face her. "Of course, Miss. Deek will inform Miss." With a final, respectful nod, Deek scurried off towards one of the adjacent rooms, his presence a silent, knowing guardian.

Sebastian, utterly astonished, pulled his hand free, his jaw dropping. "What is this place?" he asked, his voice hushed with awe.

"It’s a secret place," she said. "A secret place you won't be able to visit without me."

He chuckled as he inspected the room. He saw cauldrons slowly brewing, producing potions on their own. "So this is where you brew, huh?" he murmured, a faint, impressed smile touching his lips. Then his gaze drifted, finding the glowing, arching doorways of the various vivariums. "What... what is that?" he asked, pointing at the second floor towards a shimmering, dome-like entrance, glowing with internal light that seemed to expel the sound of the sea, his voice filled with pure wonder.

She chuckled, a genuine, joyful sound, and grabbed his hand again, pulling him towards the threshold. "Come on."

The moment they stepped through, the scent of salt and warm sand filled the air. Gentle waves lapped at a pristine shore, and exotic magical creatures—Fwoopers, Graphorns, and a tiny Kneazle—roamed freely under a perpetually sunny sky. Sebastian's jaw dropped. He let out a breathless laugh, a sound of pure, unadulterated joy she hadn't heard from him in too long. He stood in the middle of the coast admiring the view. The warmth of the sun, a forgotten comfort, washed over him. He pulled off his shoes and socks, rolling up the cuffs of his trousers, and walked towards the lapping water. The cool, gentle waves kissed his bare feet, and he extended his arms, feeling the soft breeze, breathing in the clean, salty coastal air. For the first time in what felt like an eternity, a profound, unburdened peace settled over him.

She sat down near the coast, watching him, a quiet smile on her face. This was a Sebastian she hadn't seen in too long—alive, truly alive, a stark contrast to the haunted, driven figure he had become. Some of the creatures, sensing her presence, approached cautiously, nuzzling against her robes. She fed them, her movements gentle, and Sebastian watched, captivated by the pure magic of the moment.

After a long moment, Sebastian turned, his eyes finding her where she had sat on the sand, a soft, understanding smile on her face. He walked towards her, the sand cool beneath his bare feet, and sat down beside her. He scooped a handful of sand, letting it sift slowly through his fingers, a grainy waterfall.

"Anne loved the coast..." he said, his voice heavy with nostalgia. "She said that when she grew old, she would retire to live in a coastal small home, that she would love to spend the last days of her life there, always so dramatic. She had her whole life planned."

She looked at him, her gaze unwavering. A long silence followed them, only interrupted by the sound of the breeze and the sound of crashing waves.

"Why?" he finally choked out, his voice raw with emotion, the wonder quickly replaced by a wave of profound sadness. "Why are you showing me this? Why are you giving me... this... a prize for being such a terrible friend?"

She couldn't help but smile, a soft, understanding curve of her lips. "Honestly, Sebastian Sallow," she said softly, "I seriously don't know. I can't explain it. There's something... something about you that I can't seem to pull away from. Ever since the first day I beat you in the Defense Against the Dark Arts class, it's been like an undeniable current, pulling me closer. It's just... who you are to me, and perhaps... who I am, when I'm with you." She leaned closer, her voice dropping to a teasing whisper. "Plus... if you ever hurt me again, emotionally or otherwise, I know you'll feel utterly wretched. Your own conscience will be my revenge, Sebastian. And knowing that? That'll be quite fair enough for me." A playful glint entered her eyes.

Sebastian finally smiled at her, a genuine, unburdened smile that reached his eyes. There was a complex mix of feelings inside him: profound guilt for what he had done, but an incredible, almost overwhelming sense of being blessed by Merlin himself for having a friend like her—a friend who saw the worst of him and still offered him a glimpse of pure, unadulterated magic.

"So," she said, her voice gentle, "are you ready to bring the Pensieve here?"