It had been well over an hour since Sebastian, Ominis, and you had snuck into the Slytherin's Scriptorium, but the cruciatus curse was still aching in your bones. Ominis had been kind enough to put an arm under yours as you walked back to the common room, even though you insisted you were fine. But Ominis could feel the hurt radiating off of you.

You'd been doing your best to ignore Sebastian, the one who cast it, as you crashed down onto the nearest couch. He'd tried to talk, to apologize, to put his arm under you as well. But you couldn't even look at him. To cast the curse... he had to mean it. And the curse felt like one thousand white-hot knives, boring into your skin. There was still a head splitting sensation knawing at your forehead.

You thanked Ominis as he rushed off to get you water. Unfortunately, that left you alone with Sebastian. He hesitantly sat on the other end of the couch. His body crouched in on itself with an expression like a guilty dog.

"Please... Talk to me," he urged quietly.