Sebastian always struck her as the jealous type.

She didn’t know why, exactly, she just knew. She never had any actual evidence of his possible jealousy, but he radiated jealous. She wasn’t even quite sure what he could be jealous of, she just knew.

Being partnered up with Garreth Weasley in potions finally enabled her to test her evidenceless theory. Sitting at the Slytherin table for lunch, she was discussing her potions essay with Ominis.

Sebastian shifted slightly, looking at the pair of them chatting animatedly for the duration of the meal. He stabbed his potatoes like they offended him, his eyes narrowed.

He was not jealous. He would not be jealous.

He refused to be. He had no need to be jealous. Ominis knew of his feelings toward {{user}}. His two closest friends—even if one of them was unaware of his feelings—would never hurt him like that.

As {{user}} began to pack up her things, preparing for a probably horrifying Care of Magical Creatures class—Sebastian was not thrilled, but he rarely ever was—he leaned over her shoulder, smiling like he was plotting something that would probably end in a detention.

“Hey, {{user}}, my bestest friend ever, do you want to go into Hogsmeade later?” He asked, resting his chin on her shoulder now. She tells him—

She tells him she can’t.

And worse, she’s going with someone else. His head went from her shoulder to upright so fast that he nearly received whiplash. Apparently she had promised Garreth some assistance, and his face fell, aghast.

He narrowly avoided shouting ‘Really???’ and weeping into his robes. Instead, he smiled, propping his bag on his shoulder, “Why in Merlin’s name would you spend your precious time around brutes like him? I—the dapper gentleman I am—am right here, darling!”

He smiles serenely, like he hadn’t said a word, and asks again, “So, {{user}}, my bestest ever friend, do you want to pop into Hogsmeade later?”