DISGUISED || SEBASTIAN SALLOW

Chapter 5

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I found myself in the Defense Against the Dark Arts Tower.

I found great comfort in the large windows, the marble flooring, the delicate violin harmonization stringing above me; it was truly my most favorable Hogwarts location.

I looked around me, expecting the Muggle to be a few feet away, or at least somewhat near. 

How wrong I was!

"Luke?" I gritted, bawling my fists in agitation. We'd wasted so much precious time on small-talk and small-fight. He could be anywhere right now.

Out of the corner of my eye I spotted Leander Prewitt. He'd always been a kind soul.

"Hey, Prewitt!" I placed two fingers in my mouth, whistling at the Gryffindor student.

The red-head turned his head, raising his eyebrows in favor. "Y/N!" Leander strolled towards me, the deep rumble soothing me slightly. I always felt Leander's voice as quite calming, actually. It put me to ease, knowing the Herbology assistance was a friend.

"Something wrong?" Leander's head tilted slightly, though his eyes gave away slight paranoia. He also had a class to get to.

I tilted my chin up, rolling my shoulder back and giving myself to our conversation. "Have you seen the Muggle—er, Luke. Luke Smithington."

"Why?" His tone was edged.

"He was supposed to meet me here." I pointed to the Floo-Flame. My eyebrows faltered and I was sure I looked desperate. I couldn't help but rock slightly. I was a little anxious.

Leander Prewitt must have noticed my sudden shift of mood. His brown eyes softened, but they were reassuring. "I'm sure he's already in class. The class I'm going to be late for."

"Sorry, sorry," I laughed bitterly, anxiety bubbling in my chest.

I was a bit of a control freak. When things didn't go as planned, or when I felt like I lost control, I tended to panic. Theopilous Harlow, Victor Rookwood, Ranrok—they were all examples of my biggest flaw. 

I couldn't stand not being able to control the deaths Harlow took.

Victor Rookwood's manipulation—I would never be able to reverse his trickery. I would never be able to help Anne for Sebastian.

And... Ranrok? For causing everything, for killing Professor Fig: he deserved to rot in hell, a slow, painful death. 

"Hey, it's fine, Y/N," Leander shrugged, gently pressing his thumb to my wrist. "Let's go. Black can't blame you for everything, you know. He owes you favor from the events of last year. I think you're good."

I nodded, clearing my throat and heading with Leander to our first class of the day...