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“Another one?” Poppy asked excitedly, trying to peek over your shoulder.
An owl had dropped a small letter onto your lap, the crisp envelope marked with your name in careful cursive. It was the third one this week- not that you were counting, of course. You traced your fingers over the simple wax seal, contemplating whether or not to open it in front of your friends. Natty and Poppy knew about the letters; they were there when the first one arrived, but you weren’t keen to divulge the content hidden inside. The words were for your eyes only, you told your friends; the letters needed to be kept as much of a secret as possible. You had your own secret admirer, it seemed, and no one was more excited than Poppy. A hopeless romantic, she swooned at the idea of someone confessing their love to you in private letters. Ever practical, Natty was less entranced by a mysterious person writing love notes- why couldn’t they just be direct with their feelings?
“It’s only been a day since the last one,” you gushed, admiring the note before hiding it in your pockets. You would read it later, alone in your dorm perhaps, away from prying eyes.
“This secret person must really like you,” said Natty.
“Like her? They must be in love!”
Poppy grabbed her heart and swooned, making you and Natty giggle. You rolled your eyes exaggeratedly, pretending to be annoyed with your friends’ antics. It was rather exciting to know that someone fancied you, even though you’d been crushing on the same boy since your arrival at Hogwarts. It wasn’t surprising you’d fallen in love with Sebastian- it was bound to happen with your close friendship and his flirty personality. The boy was your best friend, of course, but you had been harboring an affection for him in secret. You loved your relationship with Sebastian, though you wished it weren’t only platonic sometimes.
Knowing that someone felt that way about you was thrilling; as much as you could hope that it would be Sebastian who would return your affection, you weren’t opposed to the idea of someone else having feelings for you. Besides, it was practically impossible for any boy to get your attention. Sebastian was incredibly protective of you, often scaring away the brave souls that tried to approach the ‘Hero of Hogwarts’. You could blame the Slytherin boy for your lack of romantic prospects; you were sure that you’d never court someone before graduation, especially not Sebastian.
Only the girls were aware of the notes from your admirer, and you appreciated that they were tight-lipped about it. You’d never hear the end of it if Sebastian found out that someone was sending you love letters. If a simple compliment from Amit about your proficiency with a telescope was enough for your best friend to flush red with irritation, what would a confession of love do? You attempted to turn your friends’ attention back to the History of Magic homework in front of you, even though you weren’t going to be able to focus either. Sitting outside in the Transfiguration Courtyard, it was too beautiful a day for studying. You dazed during the rest of your study period, daydreamed during dinner time about who your mystery writer could be.
When you got into bed that night, closing the curtains for more privacy, you discreetly slipped the note out from the robes on your floor. Peeling the envelope open and pulling it out, you admired the token that your admirer had placed inside. Pulling the dittany leaf to your nose, you inhaled the scent and wondered if your admirer was giving you a clue. Could they be into Herbology? Maybe they collected dittany for potions… You wrinkled your nose at the thought of Garreth sending you a love letter. As fond as you were of the redhead, you considered him more of an annoying little brother than a potential boyfriend. No, you giggled, Garreth’s penmanship was too messy compared to the thoughtful quill strokes on the parchment in your hand.
Looking over the words, reading them a second time, then a third, you wondered who your admirer was. He called you dearest in the same way your father did towards your mother, the connotation of the word making you blush. Like in his previous letters, your admirer wrote about your beauty and intelligence. He wrote sentences comparing the sound of your laugh to the sweet notes of a flute. Your smile, he said, was warm enough to melt the last bits of frost off the tree branches in springtime. No one had told you anything so romantic before, and you couldn’t help but imagine the words coming from Sebastian’s lips. You longed for him to see you in the way that your admirer did- for you to be able to share your feelings with him like the writer of your letters could with you.
Should you send Sebastian a love letter?
The idea of telling your best friend that you were in love with him, even in an anonymous letter, was terrifying. You’d be heartbroken if he thought it came from someone else- or wanted it to be. What if he figured out it was you? You imagined the disgust on his face, Sebastian telling you to never speak to him again. No, bad idea. Now wasn’t the time to risk your friendship, you decided. You couldn’t bear the thought of not having Sebastian in your life, and settling for never exploring your relationship beyond that was fine. Just fine.
You read the note again, your eyes lingering on the Dear Juliet at the top. The intention behind that name was clear; Sebastian hadn’t considered you as a romantic prospect, but someone did.
---
“Good morning, Juliet,” Poppy whispered, dropping her bag next to yours.
“Poppy! Shh,” you snapped at her. The brunette giggled, sitting down at your desk. You watched your classmates enter the Transfiguration classroom, hoping no one overheard the nickname.
“Any more letters from Romeo?” she asked, her eyes wide with curiosity.
“Two more,” you responded sheepishly, mortified to hear her use the pen name that your admirer had used. Could he have chosen a more cliché story? Maybe this boy liked those cheesy romance novels that Imelda hid underneath her bed…
She squealed, drawing Professor Weasley’s attention. The woman stared at Poppy quizzically, turning away after the Hufflepuff mouthed an apology.
“Any clues to who your secret admirer could be?” she asked, trying to keep her voice low. Poppy wasn’t known for being the most inconspicuous friend in your little group…
“Secret admirer?” came a familiar voice.
You cringed, your mouth turning dry. Sebastian! Looking towards the boy, you watched as he rested against your desk, his arms crossed. You looked at Poppy for help. Sebastian waited for an answer, a smirk forming on his freckled face. His eyes followed yours intently, and you knew that he wasn’t going to back down now that your conversation had caught his interest.
“Not your business, Sallow,” you muttered, avoiding his gaze.
“Maybe not, but now I’m curious,” he responded, smiling at being referred to by his surname instead of your usual ‘Seb’. You only called him ‘Sallow’ when you were frustrated, and with Sebastian’s persistent obstruction of your love life, his first name wasn’t getting the same use from you as it once had.
“It’s just letters, Sebastian, nothing to get worked up about!” Poppy whispered, exasperated. She squeaked and covered her mouth, realizing too late that she’d exposed the secret.
You gave her a pointed look, sighing with annoyance. Now that Sebastian knew, he’d find a way to put a stop to the letters- even if it meant flagging down every bloody owl that flew in your direction. No more Dearest or Juliet for you…
“If you say so,” he shrugged, taking a seat at the desk next to yours. He flipped open his textbook and began reading, despite it being rather early for class to start.
You felt your brain short-circuit. Was he seriously just ending it there? Who was this calm, expressionless boy, and what had he done to your best friend? You looked at Poppy, who seemed just as dumbfounded, then back at Sebastian.
“That’s it?” you asked, reaching over to tug on his robe sleeves. He turned to you, seemingly unaware of the shocked look on your face.
“What?” he asked. He nodded towards Ominis as the blonde took a seat next to him, the two exchanging quick greetings. You ignored the Slytherin’s arrival, too focused on trying to figure out what sort of game Sebastian was playing at.
“No prodding me for questions, no threatening to hex this boy for giving me attention?” you asked, your heart pounding. Why was his sudden disinterest so maddening when you were so tired of Sebastian being too invested in your virtue?
“Who’s it this time?” Ominis asked Sebastian, completely unfazed. Like you, the Gaunt boy was used to Seb interfering with your prospects of a courtship. If only he could see the eyeroll you’d given him…
“No idea, she’s got some sad sap writing her love notes,” Sebastian responded. He had some sort of sadistic smile plastered on his face, as if he couldn’t care less about your admirer.
“Wonderful, they’re getting creative,” Ominis deadpanned, earning a giggle from Poppy. “How will you be handling this poor fellow, Sallow? I hear Prewett is still growing back those singed eyebrows.”
Okay, that had been kind of amusing- and Leander deserved it for getting much too close to you during a round of Summoner’s Court. You’d rather be caught dead than in a compromising position with that weasel, and you were glad that Sebastian agreed. The match was over as soon as Leander laid a hand on the small of your back, a powerful blast of Confringo knocking him onto his feet. That was the only time you’d appreciated Sebastian stepping in for you, not like when he’d embarrassed you in front of Andrew Larson. He’d told the popular Ravenclaw that he was too stupid to date a smart girl like you, and Andrew hadn’t looked in your direction since.
“Eh, no threats this time,” Sebastian said, leaning back and resting his feet on his desk. A quick glare from Professor Weasley sent him scrambling back into a seated position, a red flush taking over his face.
Even Ominis looked shocked; Sebastian was acting out of character today, his behavior too calm for finding out that yet another boy was attempting to pursue you. Poppy glanced at you, shrugging her shoulders.
“Well, fine!” you huffed, turning back around in your seat.
Sebastian returned to his textbook with a smirk, barely glancing back over at you. Why wasn’t he angry? And why did you care?
---
The next day, another owl made its way to you on the lawn, dropping the letter you’d been anxiously expecting into your awaiting hands. You glanced at Sebastian to gauge his reaction, finding that he barely peeked over his book to watch the owl fly away.
“From your admirer, I suppose?” he asked nonchalantly, flipping to the next page. Was that a ghost of a smile? So smug…
“The one and only,” you responded, your fingers grazing the loopy ‘Juliet’ on the front of the envelope. Your admirer had such nice penmanship, you thought; perhaps they were a diligent student.
He scoffed, turning his attention back to the thick copy of Hamlet in his lap. You huffed and picked up your own book, unaware you’d been rereading the same sentence multiple times. If he was going to act like a child, you could too; you weren’t willing to dignify his indifference with a mature response.
“Why do you care?” you asked suddenly, slamming the hardback down onto the grass. Sebastian turned to you in surprise, not expecting you to be upset with him.
“I don’t, darling,” he said, his words dripping with sarcasm.
“But you do!” you cried, a few of the students nearby looking your way. You blew out a frustrated breath. “You’ll curse any boy that even looks in my direction! I haven’t been on a single date our entire time here because of you, Sebastian!”
Your best friend crossed his arms; he knew you well enough to stay silent until you’d said your piece, and you were nowhere near finished. A year’s worth of frustration was finally coming out; Sebastian’s indifference to your feelings had sent you over the edge.
“And now someone is confessing their love to me, but you don’t even care! Did you ever think that maybe I liked some of the attention I’ve gotten? That I’ve wanted boys to see me that way? I’m a girl, Sebastian, and you’re the only one who hasn’t noticed!”
With a final huff, you grabbed your book and the envelope, stomping away from Sebastian. You were too angry to be embarrassed by your outburst, and even the new love letter in your hands couldn’t distract you from the sinking pit in your stomach. Perhaps it was time to write back to your mystery boy and ask him to reveal himself to you- Sebastian wasn’t going to get in the way this time.
---
The next letter arrived two days later. You brought it up to your dorm to read in secret, feeling like too many people knew about your love life, or lack thereof. As you tore open the envelope, the leaf of a Shrivelfig landed on your bed. A Shrivelfig, you wondered. What was the clue here? The familiar Juliet you were expecting at the top wasn’t there; instead, you saw your name written in that same delicate cursive. No ‘dearest’, either. Was this letter from Romeo? Your eyes went wide as you hurriedly read the note, a hand coming up to stifle the sob creeping up your throat.
This wasn’t a letter from your secret admirer- a loopy S.S. was signed in the bottom corner. Your eyes poured over the parchment once more, making sure that you weren't imagining the apologies and affirmations spilled out across the page. You rifled through your dresser drawer to find the other notes, comparing the handwriting and diction to the new one in your hand. Identical.
You could’ve screamed in aggravation if you weren’t too busy admiring your collection of letters. No wonder Sebastian didn’t care about the boy secretly sending you love notes- he didn’t see himself as competition. Merlin, he was maddening! So Sebastian had been interfering with any potential courtships because he wanted you to himself? You chided the boy in your head for not just telling you directly- Natty had been right, it would've been easier. Instead, he went through all of the trouble of hexing every boy in school and sending you anonymous letters. Typical Sebastian, making things harder for himself and those around him. You laughed, he had to have known that you’d feel the same, right?
---
“Sebastian?” you called out, your voice echoing through the Undercroft as you made your way inside the cold room. Sebastian was reading through the dusty novel he’d been carrying around, lounging in one of the old chairs that littered the abandoned space. Hamlet, you realized. Of course, he’d been leaving you hints the entire time. He perked up at the sound of your footsteps, blushing into his book.
“I see you got my letter,” he responded bashfully, avoiding your gaze.
“And?” you asked, crossing your arms.
“And what?”
He tossed the book aside, standing up to tower in front of you. You met his eyes, a shy smile appearing on his face. Why did he have to look so handsome? You were supposed to be upset with him!
“Why wouldn’t you just tell me, you twit! I’ve spent years pining after you, and the whole time you fancied me back?” you huffed.
Sebastian grinned, his laugh bouncing off the stone walls like the clear ringing of a bell. You crossed your arms in frustration, a smile cracking through your steely expression.
“I’m serious,” you pouted, barely trying to shove away his outstretched arms. He grabbed you into a hug and squeezed, your body limp in his embrace. Was Quidditch making him that strong? You had noticed how muscular his arms had looked lately…
“So you do feel the same, then,” he mumbled into your hair.
“That’s what you were worried about?” you asked.
Sebastian let go of you, keeping one hand on your shoulder.
“Why wouldn’t I be? There were all those other boys who could’ve caught your attention. If I couldn’t court you, I wouldn’t let them be able to,” he said matter-of-factly, like there wasn’t a single flaw in his logic.
“Merlin, you can be such a fool sometimes,” you groaned. You looked up at Sebastian’s freckled face, saw the twinkle in those brown eyes.
“You didn’t tell me you fancied me either, to be fair.”
“Because! Well, because… ugh!” you mumbled. Sebastian smirked playfully. He had you there, you thought. Only he could match you like this, get you riled up in a confusing mix of exasperation and attraction. That was what set him apart from the other boys.
“It is rather frustrating that this whole time I could’ve been kissing you, you know,” Sebastian said thoughtfully, laughing at the flustered expression you gave him in response.
“Sebastian!”