Chapter Text
The incessant clicking of your pen would have been enough to drive anyone mad had they been in the office with you. The darkness of the wee hours engulfed every corner of the beige office. A tiny lamp sat upon the corner of your desk to assist with the pile of paperwork still sitting before you. Your head thumped from the long hours and lack of food in your system. Small orange pills lay strewn about on your desk, long forgotten, as they had done very little for the pain which ached in the confines of your skull.
How long had it been since you moved from this spot? You honestly couldn't be certain. You let the thought go as quickly as it had come, not allowing your eyes to move from the page for even a second, careful not to miss anything.
"Sallow boy implicated in uncle's murder." You barely spoke above that of a whisper, unable to help as your eyes wandered towards the newspaper which sat amongst the pile. It seemed as though the trial would be a simple one, sadly enough. With this much evidence stacked against him, it would surprise you to see the prosecution last any longer than a month.
"Twenty-five-year-old Sebastian Sallow allegedly implicated in the murder of his uncle Solomon Sallow, potentially seeing life in prison." You continued to read the article aloud, cocking your head in confusion. "Where does the Daily Prophet get these numbers?" You shook your head, unable to hold back a smile as you folded and tossed the paper. "With the right plea deal, I'll get him out in ten years."
Before you were able to turn back to your work your phone rang loudly, only further promoting the pounding in your head. Rubbing soothing circles into your temples, you mindlessly pushed a few strands of hair from your face before lazily reaching for your personal phone, which sat a bit too close to the edge of the desk.
"Hello?" you spoke, refusing to look away from your work.
"Now, if I had to take a guess," the voice on the other end responded almost immediately. "You're still at the office, are you not?"
A genuine smile found itself curling on the edge of your lips as you shifted the phone so it could be easily held between your shoulder and ear. "Professor Fig." A hint of excitement left alongside your words. "Yes, I am; how did you know?"
The elderly man chuckled a bit at the question. "You were always one to cram the night before an important day."
Slowly, you pushed the papers off towards the other end of the desk. "What?" you laughed nervously. "Me? Never!"
"Now, don't lie to me," Fig scolded, a tinge of playfulness weaved within his tone. "I used to grade your papers; there is no need to lie."
You nodded, only slightly bashful. "Yeah, I know."
"I just happened to be reading the Daily Prophet ," he continued without missing a beat. "This Sallow case has been assigned to you, has it not?"
"It has," you answered truthfully, leaning back into your chair comfortably. "I obviously can't discuss the case, Professor–"
"You don't have to for me to know."
"For you to know what?" You cut Professor Fig off, your eyes falling upon an empty, dark office.
"For me to know you are going to be just fine."
The heels of your flats clicked with every step you took on the tile floor. Following quietly behind the officer, you hid your hands behind your back and allowed your eyes to wander. Creme-colored bricks lined the walls and the windows which looked into the cells had been covered in a thin metal cage. Most inmates paid you no mind, going about their routines as if today had been of no significance to them. Despite your ever-shrinking stature, you were inevitably noticed by a few inmates clad in orange jumpsuits. You shrunk slightly behind the officer, listening as they hollered and pounded on the walls.
"Charming," was all you were able to squeak out, sarcasm dripping from your words like honey.
"Pay them no mind," the officer spat, leading you around a corner and away from the chaos, "They've been here so long they've forgotten how to act like people."
"It's alright." You shook your head, holding your paperwork close to your chest.
"Sallow shouldn't give you any trouble, though," he continued as you two approached a new room. "He's quiet and doesn't do much other than read. That being said, he's still considered dangerous, so we'll have someone accompany you."
You paused in your tracks. "With all due respect, absolutely not. I intend on speaking with my client alone, as he is still entitled to attorney-client confidentiality."
The officer also paused, his hand hovering over the clip of keys dangling from his belt. "Fine," he finally responded. "It's above my paygrade to argue with you but say the word if he tries anything. You understand?"
You simply nodded, watching closely as he fiddled with the keys and pushed the door open, motioning you inside. The room in which the officer had led you to hadn't been what you expected it to be. Tall bookshelves lined the walls, absolutely filled to the brim with any title that could come to mind. The flooring was different as well. Instead of an off-white dirty tile floor, you had been met with a plush beige carpet. Honestly, you would have forgotten you were in a prison if not for the creme brick walls and barred-up windows.
Swallowing down the lump in your throat you scanned the room. Despite multiple tables set up, which looked like they belonged in the cafeteria of a children's school, there was only one other person in the room. He sat quietly at the table, his ankles crossed discreetly under his seat as his warm brow eyes danced over the thin page delicately held in his rough palms.
Allowing a steady breath to escape your lips, you placed an anxious hand upon your chest in an attempt to slow your beating heart. "Sebastian...Sallow?" you finally spoke, taking a small step forward. His eyes moved from the pages below and trailed towards you. Curls of brown hair fell over his tanned, freckled face as he finally made eye contact.
He's very handsome , you admitted to yourself, only slightly ashamed of your thoughts.
"You have got to be kidding me." He was the first to break the silence, furrowing his brows in frustration as he spoke. "I asked for a lawyer, and they sent me a first-year law student."
You only jumped slightly as he snapped his book closed with a loud thump. "I beg your pardon?" In almost an instant, all anxiety evaporated from your body.
"Then beg," he responded sharply, standing up from his spot and already wandering off towards the bookshelves.
"Well." You shook your head, second-guessing if you had even heard him correctly. "It's upsetting to see that you've accepted the situation already." Without missing a beat, you slammed the stack of neatly arranged folders and papers down on the table. "However, it's understandable, given the nature of the crime and the evidence stacked against you," you continued, not allowing him to get in even a single word. "You'll need all of this if you wish to represent yourself. No need to thank me, I'm paid by the state, after all."
Clear evidence of panic rose in Sebastian as he was unable to finish what he had previously started. "Wait, What? You're leaving just like that?"
"I can't force you to accept my council." You shrugged nonchalantly, moving your way toward the exit. "Have fun in your new home."
Sebastian's brilliant brown eyes widened. "Wait, stop!"
Your hand was mere inches away from the door. "Yes?"
"I'm sorry," he managed, his face flushed pure red as he stumbled to find the correct words, "Please help me. I'm way in over my head and I need your help."
Your hand fell to your side, only feeling a tad bit guilty for your actions. You ran a hand through your hair and down the front of your shirt. "Sit," you ordered, approaching the table one final time. "We have a lot to discuss."
With a desperate nod, Sebastian did as he was told, taking a seat across the way from you. He sat obediently, his eyes trailing your every movement.
"Your uncle was an ex-cop, was he not?" you spoke up finally, pulling the stack of binders and papers towards you.
"Yes." Sebastian winced at the mere mention of Solomon.
Shaking your head disapprovingly, you let out a small 'tsk tsk' before opening up one of the many binders. "That's not good; typically, the court will rule in favor of any officer. That being said, I can probably get you a good plea deal. You'll be in an out, ten years tops, less with good behavior."
Sebastian slammed his hand down on the table, "You're not even going to ask me if I did it?"
You glanced up at him from behind a strand of hair that found itself dangling in front of your face. "Alright, I'll bite. Did you commit this crime, Mr. Sallow?"
"Of course not!" he continued on in a rage.
Crossing your arms in front of your chest, you let out an exasperated huff. "Mr. Sallow, we have mere days before the pretrial, and you mean to tell me that you are absolutely and unequivocally not guilty of committing this crime?"
Sebastian fell silent, sinking down into his seat.
"You don't have to answer that," you asserted. "My job is not to grill you on crimes you may or may not have committed. My job is to hear, tell and advocate on behalf of your story."
"My story?" he huffed, rolling his eyes.
"Yes, your story." You nodded, pointing towards a small paragraph hidden amongst the paperwork. "Did you know that at least forty percent of police families experience domestic abuse, compared to the average family, which experiences roughly ten percent?"
Sebastian's line of sight trailed off.
"Mr. Sallow, tell me. Why did you reach for that gun?” You watched as Sebastian sat his head down on the table, covering his face in shame.
"He reached for the gun first," he admitted, entangling his hands into his hair, "Anne was going to be home soon, and he treated us like garbage. I couldn't imagine her discovering me like that."
You set a free hand on his arm, stopping him mid-sentence. "I'm glad you told me... We can work with self-defense."
"You can?" Sebastian peaked out from under his limp arm.
"Yes, absolutely." You nodded, standing to your feet and gathering your things. "I have it on good authority that you're going to be just fine, Mr. Sallow."
"You can call me Sebastian," he cut you off. "Mr. Sallow makes me feel a million years old."
A friendly smile crossed your face as you glanced down at him. "Alright, Sebastian, " You continued, moving all of your work into one pile. "Here's the deal. If you only listen to only one thing today, let it be this. Talk to absolutely no one. Not to the officers, to your cellmate, not even your sister. A good rule of thumb is that if I'm not there, don't respond. Do you understand?"
Sebastian nodded.
"Good, I have a lot to do to prepare for pretrial," you told him, pulling the paperwork close to your chest. "However, If you have any questions or concerns, do not hesitate to reach out, alright?” You reached into your breast pocket, pulling out a small business card, and handing it to him.
"I will, thank you."
Your heels clicked as you confidently strode your way down the hall. Your heart pounded excitedly in your chest and the smile on your face never faltered. Despite the ever-growing work which was laid out before you, you felt good about the case, cocky even. Before, you were confident in the idea that Sebastian could be in and out within ten years, but self-defense? You had absolutely outdone yourself.
Ignoring the wolf-whistles, you practically skipped through the prison halls without a single care in the world.
That is until there was.
Turning the corner towards the exit, you allowed your excitement to get the better of you. Paying little to no attention to your surroundings, you found yourself running straight into another person. The sound of aluminum cracking against the floor brought you back into the real world.
"Oh my Merlin, I'm so–" Your words trailed off, eyes falling onto a cane that lay on the floor. Did I just run into a blind man?! You panicked, reaching down for the cane which now lay at your feet. "Sorry," you squeaked out, setting it back into his outreached palm. “Forgive me, my mind is elsewhere." You watched closely as his hand wrapped around the cane securely.
"It's alright." His voice was sweet, yet his tone betrayed him. "Are you okay?"
Your body grew remarkably warm rather quickly at the mere question. You had finished bulldozing your way into him, and he was asking you if you were alright. "I'm alright." You couldn't help but giggle at the situation. "Are you alright?"
"I'm fine," he responded rather shortly.
Biting the inside of your cheek, you anxiously looked him over. There was something familiar about him. No, you thought to yourself. I would definitely remember those eyes. The suit he wore looked as though it had been freshly pressed and his dirty blonde hair had been neatly slicked back. A single untouched strand of hair fell down past his milky blue eyes and tickled his nose.
"I'm so sorry," you spoke up before he could move past you. "Do I know you from somewhere?"
"That depends." He was quick with his words, raising an eyebrow. "You are?"
"Oh, forgive my negligence," you mused, thumbs absentmindedly gliding over the stack of papers that you held tightly. "I'm nobody important."
"Oh, I highly doubt that." A genuine chuckle fell from his lips, his eyes bright and filled with excitement.
You can't help but lean against the wall behind you, your index finger automatically finding a free strand of hair to play with. "You flatter me."
"Well, you know what they say about flattery, don't you?"
"They say a lot about flattery." You sighed, eyes tracing the beauty marks which lay on his face as if they were constellations in the night sky. "My personal favorite... Let's see, how does it go?" You paused, bringing a finger up to your mouth as though you pretended to think. "He that flatters you more than you desire either has deceived you or wishes to do so."
He nodded, a gentle smile making its way onto his face. "I'm Ominis, Ominis Gaunt."
Your smile fell and your body grew cold as a wave of nausea became unbearably noticeable. "Ominis Gaunt," you muttered as panic rose up the back of your neck. "State prosecutor, Ominis Gaunt?"
"That's correct," he asserted, adjusting his stance.
For the first time ever, words failed you.
"Oh," you fumbled, attempting to not seem any more foolish than you already had.
"Is something the matter?" he cut off your thought process, head cocking in confusion.
"No!" You shook your head furiously as humiliation finally began to settle in. The man which you body slammed into and proceeded to flirt with was career-ending, state prosecutor Ominis Gaunt.
Things couldn't possibly get any worse.
As though someone had been looking out for you, your phone began to ring in the purse that hung over your shoulder. "Well…” Again, you couldn't help but chuckle at the absurdity of the situation. "It's been a pleasure to meet you. However, I must take this call."
Ominis smiled. Whether or not the smile was genuine, you couldn't quite tell. His stature seemed to shift, making the height difference between the two of you even more noticeable. "The pleasures all mine.”
In an attempt to gain back any dignity, you continued forward. With your head held high, you dug through your purse, searching for a distraction. "There you are.” You sighed in relief upon finding it. "Hello?" you answered without even stopping to read who was calling you.
"How did it go?" You recognized the voice almost immediately, beaming as previous events began to wash away.
"Professor," you spoke faintly. "It went really well, better than I thought it would."
"Wonderful! Tell me, what was the Sallow kid like? Was he scary?"
You laughed at Fig’s antics, shaking your head. "No, I was rather surprised, to say the least. He seemed scared and overwhelmed."
"It's a real shame; he's far too young," Fig continued. "He's lucky to have such an amazing attorney in his corner."
You smiled at his flattery. "Professor Fig, do you know anything about Ominis Gaunt?"
"Merlin, why do you ask?" You could tell, even over the phone, that he was thrown off by your question.
"I ran into him today." You spared the details. "I've read that he's ruthless; is that true?"
Professor Fig paused on the other side as if searching for the correct words. "It is. Ominis practices alongside his family. They practically raised him in the courtroom."
"Have you ever seen him in action?" you asked.
"Only once," Fig admitted, attempting to recall the events. "He's much like his father but with fire in his eyes. It's almost as if he has something to prove."
You huffed, taking in all the information. "Merlin," you finally mumbled, glancing back at the hall where you ran into him. "I'd hate to be the poor soul going up against him."