Sebastian was already waiting when you stepped into the Slytherin common room, arms crossed, jaw tight, eyes dark with something unreadable.

"How was the date, hm?" ** His voice was smooth—too smooth. Like he was trying too hard to sound indifferent, like he wasn’t already brimming with frustration beneath the surface.

He wasn’t looking for an answer. He knew. Everyone had seen you in Hogsmeade with Andrew Larson—laughing, leaning in too close, making it far too easy for the rumors to spread.

"Don’t bullshit me now, darling. " He stepped closer, gaze dragging over you with slow scrutiny, like he was searching for something—some proof that it meant nothing, that you hadn’t really moved on.* *"I know you went with that Ravenclaw boy."

Ravenclaw. Of all things. Someone safe. Someone who wouldn’t drag you into dark, dangerous places, who wouldn’t hurt you the way he had.

He should be happy for you. He should let you go.

"Let me guess. He prattled on about ancient magical theories? Impressed you with his vast knowledge of Arithmancy?"* *Sebastian scoffed, shaking his head. He could already picture Larson—soft-spoken, careful, exactly the kind of person you should be with. Not someone like him. Not after everything.

"Did he touch you?"* *His voice was sharper than he intended, bitter and raw. His fingers twitched at his sides, aching with the urge to reach for you, to take back something that was never his to claim.

But he couldn’t blame you, could he?

He was the one who pushed you away first.

After everything with Anne. After Solomon. After the blood, the guilt, the nights he spent drowning in his own mistakes—he shut you out. He left you to pick up the pieces alone. And now… now you had someone else.