Order of Shadows | Sebastian Sallow Love Story

Chapter Thirty Four

Séraphine opened the bottle of Merlot, taking a swig from the bottle since they didn't have the sense to steal glasses. The dry wine hit her tongue and she could taste a few earthy overtones like vanilla and clove.

"Shouldn't we head back soon?" She inquired, leaning her head against Sebastian.

She felt him shake his head, "Tonight, let's go back to pretending this is normal. I took my lovely petite amie to tour the city and now we'll spend the night chatting away about our hopes and dreams. We'll watch the sunrise and head back to Hogwarts if we don't fall asleep first."

"Your French really has been improving."

Sebastian took the bottle from her, smirking down at her. Bringing the bottle to his lips, his words managed to leave her breathless again. "I need to be a supportive Husband if I'm to help you teach our kids French."

Husband?

Kids?

Swoon. That was a future Séraphine could get used to. They only needed to make sure they survived long enough to get there. She wanted to be happy and enjoy this time with Sebastian to the fullest, but he wasn't the only one plagued by dark thoughts.

This happiness felt fleeting.

And it terrified her.

Terrible at Maths

The bottle of wine had been finished off and admittedly, Séraphine was feeling it much more than Sebastian. He'd always had a better alcohol tolerance than her, but whereas she would have the occasional sip of Champagne or Pinot noir at a societal event, he was off challenging Ominis to shots of FireWhiskey in the Undercroft. It was borderline incredulous at the antics those two would get themselves into with a little bit of whiskey involved.

The last time she'd walked in on them drinking, Sebastian had a green apple in his hand, place over his head, and Ominis had somehow conjured a bow with magically enflamed arrows. Sebastian had casted a protective charm only around his groin area exclaiming that he'd taken care of protecting the most important bits, and she had nothing to worry about. At the time, she didn't realize his true implication.

Séraphine was snuggled against Sebastian's side while he leaned his back against the wall. Half eaten crackers and cheese were discarded on the other side of him along with the empty bottle of Merlot. The cars beneath them were now far and few in between as Big Ben chimed three in the morning.

"It's the Witching Hour." Sebastian nudged her side, ominously, "What fact of the night do you have about that?"

Earlier they'd transfigured his knitted jumper for a knitted blanket. Being cuddled up against Sebastian in the middle of the night was something she could get used to.

"Origins of the so-called Witching Hour go back as far as 1535." She replied in a sleepily. The words sort of slurred together, letting him know she was as pissed as a newt, "The Muggles decided to prohibit activities from three to four in the morning due to emerging fears about Witchcraft in Europe."

He chuckled quietly, "Our children are going to get bullied if you raise them to be such know it alls."

"Your stupidity will balance it out." Séraphine murmured sharply, smiling when his chuckle became a full belly laugh.