Chapter 17: Coach Sallow
Penelope Silverthorn couldn't fathom why her gaze was locked over the professor/coach/case-solver/acquaintance — for fucks sake, the man was everything at once — Penelope went dizzy over a proper label for Sebastian Sallow.
This made things challenging for her.
The idea that Sebastian Sallow had an unlimited talented mechanism that he could use in many ways was incredibly attractive to Penelope and she hated herself for even appealing over it.
"Please, remember everyone," Sebastian Sallow placed a quill pen over his ear, looking down at his checklist in hand, and directed the older students, "Quidditch is all about precision and teamwork. Without it, you'll be, well, incompetent."
Those big words, Penelope thought to herself, he'll always use his perfect speech to take advantage of his communication.
"Pen!" Poppy snapped over at her.
Poppy Sweeting was not easily tricked. She would see the patterns of her best friend losing herself over the sighting view of the Slytherin instructor from afar. She let her be for a moment, but she also didn't let her embarrass herself with the obvious stare.
Penelope sat more up from the curved posture she held and cleared her throat, hoping Poppy wasn't taking notice of the distraction.
"Wait, what? Sorry I..." Penelope then flushed, losing herself to the words as she noticed Poppy's squints, "...it was nothing, really. I haven't seen him in eight years, Poppy." She defended.
Poppy gave her a nod, not wanting to intervene over the personal excuse, and looked back over the field. Her small arms rested over the stands behind them as she breathed in.
"A time ago, we'll be on these stands like right now, vocalizing and cheering the teams," Poppy smiled, "A few stacks of Bon Bons over our mouth until we'll get nauseous."
Penelope exhaled a breath from the memory and smiled, also looking through the setting, "Oh, I remember very well, Poppy. I haven't touched Bon Bons since." She laughed.
The women sat over those stands, reminiscing memories and giving out faint laughs as the Quidditch tryouts went on.
Unlike Penelope Silverthorn though, she'll often catch herself glimpsing over the mess of brown hairs on the far corner; her stare only being milliseconds long to not let Poppy catch her.
Keep it together, Penelope. Your behavior is unprofessional.
Sebastian Sallow tried to keep a highly proper demeanor as he conducted the older kids in the middle of the field. He pretended as if Penelope Silverthorn being right in the stands wasn't making him purposely be confident as he imagined she'd be listening with Poppy Sweeting.
Sebastian couldn't understand why he felt so tensed and skittish at Penelope's presence. The last time he might've felt this jittery was when he was trying to impress her during his own Quidditch tryouts in the sixth year.
"Professor Sallow?"
The professor lost his train of thoughts as a seventh year student knocked some sense into reality and raised her brows from his silence.
He cleared his throat, grabbing the quill from his ear again and nodding, "Right, as I was saying, formation,"
"Well, fancy seeing you here."
Penelope's view was blocked rudely as Garreth Weasley slid his way over to the two women in the last stand, being the attention of their view and placing his hands over his hips with a greet.
"Garreth." Penelope forced a wry smile at the ginger, "Surprise to see you here."
Garrett kept a high smile, keeping a positive tone as if he were still talking to a student, and raised his arm at Penelope.
"Ah, I can say the same, Penny! I predicted you wouldn't make it after last night—"
"Please," Penelope raised a finger at him, giving him a warning expression, "Don't dare remind me of the after-effects your drinks gave me, Weasley."
"As if!" Garreth scoffed at her.
"Garreth!" Poppy Sweeting took sight of the tall man above them and smiled, "Done with your coaching already?"
Garreth turned over to the field, watching the professor from afar guiding a portion of players over the air as he sighed and turned back.
"No, it's just that the younger players became fond of Sallow, of course, so he took all the teams." Garreth complained, "More breaks for me though."
"You don't prefer the older years?" Poppy asked.
Garreth sat down in between the two women, both of them sliding off a few inches from his stanching sweat as he spoke like nothing was happening.
"Of course, I would love to guide the older players, but apparently Professor Sallow over there strutted how he aced me during our sixth and seventh years in the field and now they don't trust me." He huffed out.
Penelope Silverthorn pressed her lips together tightly, keeping herself from giggling at the statement.
Sebastian Sallow's cocky mechanisms were still there, even as an adult.
"Not funny." Garreth flashed a look over at Poppy, who indeed, did not hold back on laughing at the rivalry.
"Wait," Penelope adjusted herself on the stand, "If you're here right now, who's managing Hogs Head?"
"Oh, Aberforth." Garreth answered.
Aberforth. The name seemed to familiarize Penelope, but her head couldn't wrap around it for a moment.
Alforth....Aberforth....Albus—
"Aberforth Dumbledore?" Penelope asked, "As in, Percy's younger brother?"
"Who the heck is—oh, him?" Garreth stared at Penelope with confusion, but then his face softened, "Yeah. He's one of the infamous Dumbledore's. Wait, isn't his older brother working on that case with you?"
"That's what I mean, Garreth!" Penelope nearly grunted at Garreth slowness in connecting the dots.
"Oh."
Poppy rolled her eyes.
"Isn't Aberforth a student? Why is he managing Hogs Head—"
"Was a student." Garrett chuckled, "Haven't you heard?"
"Heard what?" Penelope furrowed her brows at the unknown.
Garreth Weaslyt stared blankly at Penelope for a moment, not knowing whether to explain himself over those bleachers or not.
"Uh, well, hmm—" He wondered.
"Actually, Weasley," Penelope moved away, "Save it for later. You smell exactly like seventh year."
"Oh, please," Garreth rolled his green eyes at the woman's dramatic reactions and wiped out his brown wand, circulating a scented charm to clean himself up from the playing smell and smile, "Females and their—"
"Ugh, has the time struck before eight already?" Poppy Sweeting let out, frustratedly looking at the sun setting, "I forgot I had to gather a few Fwoopers for tomorrow's lessons." She sighed.
"Oh, Fwoopers. Where so?" Garreth turned at her.
"They're usually stationed around the valley, a little before Lower Hogsfield. I might have to head there like...now." Poppy began to gather herself in that space.
"The valley, you say? Oi," Garreth Weasley stood up from the stands himself, "I've been needing to head there for a few ingredients on a drink! Let me join."
As Garreth and Poppy stood talking over Penelope, she couldn't help, but blur them out of her view as her eyes now had a focal zoom on the familiar figure from before.
There came a moment when Penelope Silverthorn concentrated so hard on Sebastian Sallow teaching the children that her inner ancient abilities stemmed out; the ancient magic being so profound over the ear, she could hear the professor in clear.
"As much as Referee Prewett would love to add everyone on his Quidditch rooster, only a portion would make it," Sebastian's voice echoed so close, "But that doesn't mean you should stop trying. Some of you have years ahead of you. Do not give up—"
"Pen?"
Poof.
The invisible ancient magic sealed itself from her inner consciousness and Penelope Silverthorn came back to herself, looking over at Poppy.
"We asked if you wanted to join the stroll," Poppy offered, "You don't have to, but in case..."
Penelope's eyes didn't want to stop flickering from across.
Perhaps, if she had stayed behind, it would've been a perfect opportunity to apologize to the professor. To excuse her awful behavior from last night.
No. Just the thought of it made Penelope feel as nervous as ever.
"Can't you see she's getting nostalgic over the Quidditch Field, Pops?" Garreth elbowed the short girl beside him, as he also took notice of Penelope's gestures.
Penelope gave a breath from her nose and refused to turn at Garreth.
Garreth Weasley turned his back for a moment, looking over Sebastian Sallow, and smirked.
"I don't blame you, Penny," Garreth shrugged, "You were gone for eight years. If I were you, I'd also be—"
"Garreth!" Poppy threw a light hit over his chest, knowing he had crossed the line above his words, and frowned.
"Ouch," Garreth touched his chest at Poppy's actions and rubbed.
Penelope sighed, "It's alright, you two...I have actually been willing to take a few notes over the case. Considering I couldn't earlier due to a hangover, I'll take advantage." She lifted the brown journal.
Garreth Weasley and Poppy Sweeting glared at each other for a moment, growing smiles on their face as they nodded.
"Yeah, of course. Take your time, Pen. It is a very concerning case." Poppy gave in, "I'll see you around."
"Definitely. Hero of Hogwarts," Garreth gave a salute motion at Penelope as he walked away with Poppy.
Penelope Silverthorn watched as the two unlabeled-couple began to wander off the giant field before a brink of low laughter came out of her.
Penelope clearly wasn't an idiot. There have been moments of idiocy within her lately, but there was no sense of fooling her like they did right now. Clearly, her friends knew the staying behind reasoning as much as she knew what was going on between them.
"Some things never change," Penelope whispered to herself, beginning to write over the brown journal.
Penelope Silverthorn sat on those bleachers, attempting to get a few sentences and gatherings in that journal, but her head was still loopy from the heavy effects. Let alone, concentration was far off a case when all she could think about was the professor talking.
Write. Write. Write. Penelope reminded as her fingers began to sweat over the quill and made her handwriting become a rubbish-cursive font.
"For fucks sake," Penelope cursed out to herself, feeling the quill pen between her fingers slip off several times from the sweating.
This should've been a sign to not be there, but Penelope couldn't understand why there wasn't an urge to stand up from those stands immediately or walk away.
Penelope might've argued with herself inside her own head for the remainder of the time that when she came out of the loop with her thoughts, the once-full field was emptying out.
2 .3 .4
Penelope was writing gibberish traces of random doodles on that journal now. Pretending as if her concentration wasn't doomed eight minutes ago — doing everything to not stare up anymore.
"Miss...S-Silverthorn?"
Merlin, the voice was almost panting her name from the tiredness and wreck he had gotten himself into in that field with a bunch of students.
Penelope stared up, looking over at the presence above her.
Sebastian Sallow stood there, damp hairs all over the place, his brows slick with sweat, and a pink skin tone in place. There were a few sweat stains on his jersey from the quidditch teaching and you can see the checklist board still on his side as his gaze stood at Penelope.
Penelope's lips parted subtly, tongued-tied over the view as she closed the journal in her lap to hide her doodles and greeted the man.
"P-Professor Sallow, or, uh," Her finger raised a little, pointing at the jersey and gave a timid smile, "Coach Sallow?"
There wasn't a need to be humorous over the greet, but Penelope needed to start somewhere. As if a week ago they weren't bantering to each other inside his office with unsettling emotions.
Sebastian Sallow must've manipulated the same mindset in confronting Penelope Silverthorn in a more "nothing ever happened in that office" and spoke normally, matching her energy.
Sebastian looked down at his jersey and checklist and gave her back a side smile, "Oh, right. I suppose I got my hands quite full with duties, as you see."
"Definitely." Penelope nodded, her eyes not wanting to puncture much more over the attire and she looked down at her closed journal, awkwardly.
You can hear the sound of a few fourth years clowning over each other toward the exit as there was silence between the two adults now.
Penelope was nervous.
Sebastian was nervous.
"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to intrude your field," Penelope threw in, pointing at the field with her quill, "I was just finding a peaceful place to take a few—" she lifted the journal, that belonged to him, "—notes...in the field."
"In a field full of kids?" Sebastian raised a thick brow at the thought.
"I have very weird ways of concentrating, Mister S—" Penelope excused.
"Yeah, I know." Sebastian blurted.
It wasn't intentional. It was just stating the obvious for Sebastian Sallow. He dated her. He knew her. Knew her very well, so, anything out of her mouth didn't seem to surprise him. — But he had to know a limit.
"Right..." Penelope bit her lip, staring up at the him, again.
Penelope tried to not become fixated on the few strands of hairs that draped over Sebastian's forehead. Or how his freckles became more evident when he sweated.
He was aging so fucking well.
"Find anything?" Sebastian asked.
Penelope blinked, and she became thankful a swish of cold air came to her face because it hid the redness that overcame the distraction of staring.
"What?"
Sebastian pointed at the familiar brown journal, "The case? D-Did you gather anything within your," he looked around the field, "...peaceful concentration?"
"Oh, yes," Penelope lied. She did not do findings during that time, besides finding out how her feelings toward Sebastian Sallow were blooming, "I plan to go down to the Map Chamber."
"As you said," Sebastian crossed his arms.
Right...before we got into a pressured conversation minutes later at that office of yours. Penelope wanted to say.
"Yeah. Did you get a chance to speak with Percy about it?" Penelope asked him.
Unplanned to Penelope, she watched as the professor sat on the wooden bench beside her, sliding off the dirty jersey and leaving his upper body with another white long sleeve; a bit more transparent than the first.
Compared to Garreth Weasley, Sebastian's sweaty scent became a muse over Penelope Silverthorn. It's all that lingered on her for three years straight in the past. Perhaps, he casted a smell-good cast like Garreth before coming here, but no.
It was just Sebastian smelling like Sebastian.
"I did ask Percy," Sebastian informed, folding the jersey nicely and setting it aside as he spoke. "He is highly interested in the Map Chamber. Conveniently, for the findings he might discover."
"Right. Well, that's good." Penelope gave nods, keeping her stare on the grassy field and not the sweaty well-put-together man beside her.
"Hmmh,"
Penelope licked her lips, tapping the quill before she turned to him, "I presume you've also been to the Map Chamber too, correct?"
Sebastian Sallow wanted to smirk at himself from the oblivious questioning. As if, Penelope hadn't been the one to show him the Map Chamber and bring him down there once.
"I have," Sebastian answered, "But I may ask, you don't mind if I join the quest over the case?"
Penelope wondered why he even questioned such a thing. Like Professor Sallow hadn't been on the last tasks with her.
"If I don't mind?" Penelope furrowed with a confusing laugh, "No, I don't. I mean, I don't think I have a say in this. It's an open case to the faculty."
"But you always have a say." Sebastian reminded.
Silence.
It was the way he said it, really.
"I don't mind. I'm sure your expertise in note-taking and observations from you can really help the experience." Penelope told him.
Sebastian nodded, "Thanks."
Again, silence.
Silence lately has been Penelope's worst enemy. The more it happened, the more her blood cells triggered over the frustration of quiet pauses. Not even the remaining students in the field can help the muteness.
"How are you feeling?" Sebastian Sallow asked her, his gaze over the setting afar.
Nervous. Nauseous. Sweaty. Emotional. That's all she felt.
Penelope drew in a breath, pretending like Sebastian's question wasn't making her malfunction.
"Hm? I'm alright." Penelope lied, she stared straight.
Sebastian Sallow's eyes turned at her for a moment. And he stared like he was staring at her yards away an hour ago, but now she was up close and inches away.
And there they were.
The familiar fainted blemishes that were left permanently on her over the layered soft skin from past battles. Or how her lashes stayed thick and long from the side. Or how her cheeks stained in a peachy tone during conversations.
Fuck, Sebastian. No -- but I'm just staring at her.
"That's good to hear, Miss Silverthorn."
Miss Silverthorn.
Penelope blinked, noticing the off changes in the ways Sebastian would sometimes call her, Miss S or Miss Silverthorn. Or even Pen on serious occasions. Penelope.
With thoughts, Penelope began to think fast about what to say back. Should she also ask how he's feeling? Should she depart from his presence? Should she finally apologize?
There were so many categories to apologize for.
"I, um," Penelope let go of the quill in hand and cleared her throat to come forward with her truth, "I have been meaning to bring the topic of yesterday night."
If there were a heart detector over the two presences, you'd think they were doing some type of telepathy to produce the same feelings when the previous night was mentioned on those stands.
Sebastian brought his sitting more forward, the Adam's Apple on his throat wiggling as he waited for Penelope to talk more.
"I want to apologize for what I did." Penelope said in shame.
Sebastian stood quiet for a moment, not looking at her, yet, and wiggled his tongue over his cheek from the apology.
"Oh...that's alright. You don't have to." He curved.
"I do have to," Penelope fought, "It was extremely unprofessional of me to do what I did. And you shouldn't have done that."
"And what is it that I've done?" Sebastian squinted, finally locking his gaze with the woman beside him.
Penelope aimed to maintain her presence of mind and not lose herself in the professor's gaze. How the hazel color of his eyes would reflect onto her from the talk.
"You—" Penelope felt like she was stuttering from her pause, "—took care of me. You shouldn't—"
"You were drunk." Sebastian spoke bluntly to her, not letting her finish her sentences, "I know how it feels to be bonkers with no aid." He admitted.
Penelope chipped her fingernails from the nerves at his words.
"I sure would've liked it if someone was there for me on such occasions." He murmured.
"You drink?" Curiosity came out of Penelope.
Sebastian Sallow felt his heart thump more than usual at the question. He should've gotten up from those stands and pointed fingers at Penelope Silverthorn. Shout "yes" and wait for her to ask why. And he'll love to give her the reasoning why he turned to drinking —
No. No that was the past. It wasn't her fault.
"In the past." Sebastian chuckled in hurt, not wanting to exploit any context.
Penelope knew Sebastian liked to drink. During their Hogwarts years, the couple would often roam around common room parties and drink away — some nights were heavy, but some nights were full of fun. They were young and happy.
"Well, I thank you, then...Mister Sallow." Penelope changed the name, looking down, "I'm sorry, again."
Sebastian wondered if she was sorry for sending him an owl at such late timing, or perhaps, she was sorry she left him eight years ago? No, it was the first one.
"No worries," Sebastian sighed, "I do advise you to be careful. I cannot be covering the new faculty members all the time." He joked, bringing a spark into the deepening conversation.
Penelope couldn't help, but grow a smile at the words and nodded, "Right, well, I owe you."
Penelope knew she owed Sebastian more than just a night of taking care of her drunk. She owed him eight years of departure. She owed him an explanation. She owed him so much and she knew that.
Sebastian Sallow stared over the sunset that was now at a pinpoint of setting fully as he thought about her words.
I owe you. Yeah, you did, Silverthorn. A lot.
"I suppose in that sense," Sebastian cleared his throat, "There is a subtle owing proposal between us."
Penelope Silverthorn went cold over Sebastian's words. Anything could've come out of that man's mouth, especially since he had the power now to get something out of her. She prepared to explain herself.
"I was planning to call it off for them, despite the impossible of it, but, erm," Sebastian scratched his nose as he proceeded, "I figured now would be appropriate."
"Go on," Penelope said, still nervous.
"My students haven't stopped pestering me about the famous witch friend of mine who saved the Wizarding World in 1890." Sebastian chuckled down, "I suppose that's my fault."
Penelope had heard a handful of whispers from students mentioning rumors of her and Professor Sallow being friends — as if he spoke about her in lessons.
"I guess they saw that Professor Sweeting invited you to her lesson in Beasts Class one day and now they're expecting the same from me," Sebastian sighed.
Oh, right. The unplanned lesson Poppy Sweeting made up for Penelope to avoid breakfast with Cecil Greengrass and Sebastian Sallow.
Penelope smiled at the thought of the students looking up at her, "And what have you been telling them?"
Sebastian Sallow swallowed dozens of times speaking about the topic to Penelope Silverthorn.
Of course, he wasn't going to tell her how he spoke about her like a Goddess in his first few years of teaching. Like said before, he'll speak fondly about her to his students as if she were dead.
But now she was here, and he had to deal with the consequences.
"I mentioned you were very busy. That they should appreciate that you are back here in the first place." Sebastian said, but it seemed like he was talking about himself, "I didn't give them hope."
Hope.
His sentences sounded personal, but Penelope didn't interfere. All she did was nod.
"Well," Penelope played with the leather of the journal on her lap, "I'm here and I do owe you."
"You don't have to." Sebastian said quickly, not expecting much.
It already felt wrong. It felt wrong to be pursuing Penelope to join his class. To have another excuse of having her close without consequences. To just have her there.
"For the students," Penelope assured.
For the students and for you.
Sebastian played with the green ring over his finger, almost in the same place Penelope held hers, and gave a forced nod.
"Thanks. I'm sure they'll be very enthralled at the news." Sebastian let out.
Again, all for professional manners.
Penelope Silverthorn sat on that wood, her hand lifting as she grabbed a strand of hair from her face and pulled it behind her ear, approaching muteness.
The once-full Quidditch Field was now a deserted place. You can only count a handful of students that stayed behind, but the voice became very distant and you heard the air.
It might've been the longest conversation Sebastian Sallow and Penelope Silverthorn had since her arrival. There were no cut-ins or arguments in between. It was a typical normal conversation as adults. It was weird, yet, motivated.
Sebastian was firm and kind with her, despite her actions eight years ago. He kept it neutral and still, he sat beside her on those stands and spoke to her. Gave her his time. Gave her his invitation to meet his students whom he really cared about.
Sebastian Sallow didn't deserve it. He didn't deserve anything she did.
Penelope closed her eyes, breathing a little more heavier than usual from her haunting thoughts.
"Sebastian."
A first name-call.
Sebastian Sallow gathered that when he was called by his first name now, it was something rare. Whilst keeping themselves with adult talk, there was just something that traveled back in time as Penelope said his name.
"Yes?" He said, almost the same way he did when she called him by his first name drunk the yesterday night.
Penelope's fingers gripped the bind of the journal tightly, wanting to express herself, but there was something holding her back. Her throat itched to even say anything.
"I..."
Sebastian also felt his breath heavy; it might've been weird to predict that he felt what Penelope was feeling. Their broken souls were calling out to each other, but she needed to talk.
Sebastian kept his gaze at Penelope, pushing her to answer now, "Talk to me, Pen."
Penelope couldn't help, but turned to Sebastian at the nickname he made for her.
Her gaze fixed upon him as the light of the sunset finally settled, making the sky above them turn into a deep, darkening shade of purple. The colors complimented the man's face, framing Sebastian's features with a golden hue.
Penelope could see his lips part, as if he was about to say something, but then seemed entranced over her own parted lips.
Time traveled for them. Eight years back. As if nothing changed between.
Maybe, Sebastian had a bit of a stubble now.
Maybe, Penelope had longer hair now.
They were back.
Just say sorry to him, Pen. That's all.
"Say something. Please." Sebastian Sallow pleaded in a hoarse whisper, "Anything." His jaw clenched from the force of being so close.
"I just," Penelope whispered, "Sebastian, I'm s—"
"...S!"
Out of the blue, you can hear someone call out the letter "S" and both heads turn at the same time, considering they both had the same last name initial.
"Yes?" Penelope said.
"Yes?" Sebastian let out.
A seventh year blonde Slytherin boy caught up over the faculty members, chuckling to himself as he realized the name call.
"Oh, Merlin!" He said, "I forgot you both go by S—shit...my bad, I meant Mister S." He corrected, embarrassed.
"Thanks for the clarification, Matthew." Sebastian Sallow let out, adjusting himself to the student's presence.
Penelope Silvethorn gathered herself up from the stands, finally preparing a departure after such an intense conversation with the professor below her.
"I...I think I should go." Penelope said in a rush, not wanting to even stay longer to speak to him anymore. She was in shambles.
Sebastian wanted to stand from the wooden stands himself and incline more on what she was going to possibly say, but the seventh-year student kept babbling to him.
Penelope clutched over the brown journal and gave a slight bow at Professor Sallow, "H-Have a good evening, Professor Sallow, and you too...er,"
The seventh year student winked at her, not respecting boundaries, "Call me Matt, Miss S."
Sebastian rolled his eyes, "Eyes on me, Matthew." And he turned at Penelope, keeping an act like nothing was happening between them, and bowed, "Have a good night, Miss Silverthorn. I'll see you in my next lesson." He reminded.
"Oh? You're finally bringing her to class, professor?" Matthew, the seventh year boy said in surprise from the exchange, "Sweet! The common is going to freak."
Penelope just gave an awkward wave over them and sped walk out of the Quidditch Field.
And Sebastian Sallow watched her go until the very last bit of her was in sight.
_____________
Seb bringing Pen to his class reminds me of when our elementary school teachers told us to bring a toy for show and tell LMAO