The Call of the Void (Sebastian Sallow x F!MC)

XIV: F e l d c r o f t

"Another potions accident?" she questions, and Siobhan remembers the excuse from the last time this happened. Nurse Blainey, however, isn't skeptical enough to think it is anything else, unable to discern that the burns are from an unstable form of magic. Would anyone, unless they'd witnessed it?

"Something like that," Sebastian repeats with a cheeky grin.

Nurse Blainey clicks her tongue in disapproval. "This is worse than before," she says, spreading and bending his fingers. This time, Sebastian clenches his jaw and hisses in pain. "Who applied dittany salve?"

"Me," Siobhan meekly responds, suddenly worried she's done something wrong.

"Good. It prevented infection," the Matron assures, temporarily shifting her attention to the healing cut on his temple, somewhat obscured by dried blood and matted hair. "You get to keep your hands...and head for another day, Mr. Sallow."

"Yay."

"Let me fetch some supplies," Nurse Blainey sighs before leaving them to go rummage through the medical cabinet on the other end of the room.

Professor Fig huddles closer, lowering his voice to a hushed whisper. "Quickly now, while she can't hear us. Tell me what happened."

Siobhan looks at Sebastian, who shrugs—he's leaving it up to her to disclose what occurred in the Forbidden Forest. She has a feeling that he'd go along with whatever story she offers. Too bad she's never been very good at lying.

"Sebastian was helping me follow up on a lead regarding Ranrock," she starts, deciding to leave out the finer details for now, especially when she isn't sure if the trip had been worth the trouble. "We thought the loyalist camp was abandoned, but..."

There's a sudden knot in her throat, and she reaches up to touch where the Ashwinder leader had pressed his wand into her flesh. It's tender now, likely bruised. She struggles to shake away the sickly sensation that creeps across her skin, as if the skull-masked man still has her in his grasp.

"We were ambushed," Sebastian speaks up. "Not just by Rookwood's men, but by a crazed troll."

"Again?" Professor Fig stares at them in disbelief. "How did you manage to escape?"

The faintest echo of magic tickles through her, causing a shiver. Siobhan clenches her hands into fists, hard enough that her nails bite crescent moons into her palms. The pain is a good distraction until Sebastian tentatively touches her hand, coaxing her to relax.

"I...I lost control," she finally admits, focusing on a scuff mark on the ground. "Not like before in Hogsmeade, when I couldn't remember what happened. This time...this time, I was aware of everything, but unable to stop it."

"To stop what, exactly?" Professor Fig asks.

"She summoned lightning," Sebastian answers before she can, just as mesmerized as he'd been the previous night. "It provided us enough time to run away. We found shelter in an old treasure vault and stayed there until dawn."

"Lightning?" Fig repeats, awestruck. "Truly?"

"It wasn't me," Siobhan shakes her head, hating how marveled they are by something that might as well be a curse. "It was the ancient magic, holding me hostage," she releases a shaky breath, terrified that she'll awaken the power just by mentioning it. "It was as if I were a prisoner in my own body."

The professor isn't as impressed by her description. He glances back and forth between her and Sebastian. "So your magic burned Mr. Sallow?"

"Not...intentionally," she replies, an ache blooming in her chest. The ancient magic isn't hers—she's just an unwilling host. But if Sebastian's injuries were any worse, or fatal, she'd be the only one to blame. She lowers her head, ashamed of her inability to control it.