❝ 𝐅𝐋𝐀𝐒𝐇 ❞ 𝘚𝘦𝘣𝘢𝘴𝘵𝘪𝘢𝘯 𝘚𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘰𝘸 𝘐𝘮𝘢𝘨𝘪𝘯𝘦𝘴 - Chapter 8: Chapter 8

Professor Weasley's office usually meant one of two things— either you were in Sebastian Sallow level trouble, or you were doing well in your studies. I had no idea why I was called in this time. From what I can recall, I hadn't done anything malicious nor have I been doing well in my studies.
But then I guess some questions answer themselves.
"Miss Y/L/N... have a seat. I'd like to speak with you about your studies," Professor Weasley said, taking her own seat and properly clasping her hands together on top of her desk. I feel uneasy as she takes a moment and looks at me, as if she was trying to read me.
She sighs as I try my best to avoid eye contact.
"You are... exceptionally bright. Considering your circumstances, I know of no one else who could transfer to a new school and hit the year off so strongly. Not to mention your grand deed to the wizarding world."
I knew where this was going. Professor Weasley had a knack for complimenting you before tearing you down to shreds.
"I understand that you've gone through quite a bit this year. But your professors have noticed your decline in performance. You started off the year strong, and now, comparing your performance on quizzes and assignments from the beginning of the year to now, it's not so bright."
She just had to twist the knife by laying out the parchments of my old and recent test scores in front of me.
I couldn't help but notice my reflection in one of Professor Weasley's decorative vases that sat behind her. Not only was I slapped in the face with the consequences of my actions for slipping in my studies, but I was reminded.
Reminded of the very reason why I had been slipping in the first place. I felt myself zone out as I gazed at my own reflection. Thanks to Nurse Blainey, the bloody gashes on my face were able to heal over the course of a couple days instead of a couple weeks.
But there was no saving the gnarly scars that would forever reside on my face. Other students in the common room tried to make me feel better about them by calling them "battle scars," but it didn't help. I still felt shitty about them.
I could tell that even Professor Weasley had a hard time keeping her eyes off of them, which made me feel worse.
"I know it's been rough... since Professor Fig passed. I know how much he meant to you. But he would not want you to neglect your studies, especially since the year is coming to an end. I want you to finish off strong," Professor Weasley said, trying to encourage me.
I knew I was able to listen to her, but she and I both knew it was easier said than done.
"I understand, Professor. I'll try harder," I gave in, wanting the conversation to be over with. She waited a moment as she gave me a look, a look where she tried to tell me that she would be there for me if I needed anything. But I didn't want help from her.
I wanted help from Professor Fig.
"Alright. You may go," she dismisses me. I pick my bag up from the floor next to me and swing it over my shoulder. I wanted to get out of there as quick as I could.
I could my body going hot and slightly tense, the feeling making its way up to my throat and to my eyes. I feel cool drops of water pooling in my waterline, ready to roll down my cheek. But I shut my eyes, refusing to do so as I walked the hallways of Hogwarts.
I found myself in the giant, quiet ambience of the Map Chamber, the Keepers' portraits empty, standing proud. At first, I thought perhaps it might have been a mistake coming back, even though I finished everything the Keepers asked of me.
But it was the one place where I could still feel Professor Fig's presence, other than his office. But I knew that occasionally, other professors stopped by knowing I'd be there, and I couldn't handle professors smothering me.
I wandered around for a bit, trying to distract myself by appreciating the architecture of the place. It was quite beautiful, I admit. I still couldn't believe all of this was under Hogwarts.
I sit myself comfortably on the floor, in front of the Keepers' portraits where Professor Fig and I used to stand, consulting them of plans.
I felt disappointed in the abilities of magic. How can we as magical beings, wield such power, some with more ability, yet there was nothing we could do to bring back the dead?
These days, my heart beat twice as hard as I remember Professor Fig.
And now he was gone... all because I could sense some stupid kind of magic.
All I wanted was to go to school. I was excited about starting here. I was looking forward to expand my magical abilities. But never would I have expected to go beyond, finding myself in battles that could cost me my life and put my friends in danger.
It was my fault.
It was my fault that everything happened.
I suck.
I suck. I suck. I suck.
And now I look monstrous.
"Y/n? Hello?" a familiar voice echoed. I wiped my eyes as my brows pinched together. I turned my head, trying to find the source of the sound.
It was Sebastian, looking around in complete awe of the place.
His eyes finally set on me, his eyes glazed with worry. "There you are!" he said, jogging up to me, and bending down on his knees, resting a hand on my back.
"Sebastian, how did you find me?" I ask, my voice cracking.
He takes another look around the place. I could tell he was curious as to where we were at the moment, but knew his focus shouldn't be on that. "I'm sorry... I just noticed you in the hallway and I called to you but you didn't hear me," he said, his eyes refusing to break contact with mine.
For a second, I stayed quiet. I looked deep into his eyes, begging for his company. I had only hoped he felt what I meant.
He sits with me, our arms touching as he brings his knees to his chest. "What's going on with you, fifth year?" he asks calmly, gazing up at the empty portraits.
I hung my head low, letting my hair fall naturally with gravity. I sniffle, struggling to breathe as I felt everything finally crashing down. "I'm ugly..." I wept, biting my lip as I tried to keep it in.
Sebastian turns his head, almost as if he was offended I uttered those words. He takes his fingers and slowly moves my hair out of my face, tracing the large scars across my eye.
"I don't see it," he whispers kindly. His thumb gently wipes the tear lingering at my waterline. "You don't?" I ask, knowing that his eyes were tracing every outline of my wounds.
He shakes his head. "No. Never. But you do have a funny way of telling me what's wrong," he chuckles. I crack a smile, appreciating the sound of his laughter.
I shift my position, laying my head on his shoulder and wrapping my arm around his. I slowly shut my eyes, taking in the silence and living with his presence.
"Can we just... stay here? Just for a moment?" I ask softly. "I just need a friend right now."
Sebastian shifts his position, his arm draping on my back and over my shoulders. His head lays comfortably on mine. The ambience was so quiet, I could hear our hearts beat in sync to a slow and steady beat.
"We can stay for however long you'd like. Today. Tomorrow. Either way, I'm always here, fifth year. You ought to know that."