#avalanche studios gave us (1) class interaction with ominis and we're all RUNNING with it and i loved that for this fandom

[hippogrifffeathers]

Is This Seat Taken?

Ominis didn't usually mind History of Magic. Dull as it was, at least the class gave him a change to get some peaceful sleep for once. It was almost enough to make up for the stinging loneliness that came with the reminder that he was sitting alone, that nobody wanted to sit next to a Gaunt- nobody except Sebastian and once upon a time, Anne.

And maybe, in the light of a newly blossoming friendship, MC.

or, as usual, it's also on ao3!

It had been a small mercy that History of Magic classes didn’t start until after Halloween, something which all Hogwarts fifth-years would agree on.

Ominis had chosen the class under family expectations, and only tolerated it now due to the ease of the curriculum- and if he were being completely honest, the wealth of nap opportunities the lessons provided. Though, he could do without the demanding workload Binns assigned. One student could only take so many essays.

The chatter of the classroom greets Ominis as he crosses the threshold, full of usual pre-lesson complaints and friends trying to choose what table they want to claim for the rest of the school year. He pushes past it all, allowing it to become background noise.

That was another downside of History of Magic, sitting alone. It was one of the few classes he didn’t share with Sebastian, which left him sparse on people to sit with.

Solitude was hardly an unfamiliar shadow in Ominis’ footsteps, it had become something he’d grown used to quickly in his youth, trying to convince himself he preferred things this way. It was quiet, not isolating, he was just fine with the way things were.

The lie was easier to believe some times more than others.

Hearing the whispers of chatting classmates around him, knowing their giggles and scratches of quills on parchment were more from the exchanging of notes and games than focusing on Binn’s droning tone, wasn’t always easy to ignore- not against the pang of envy that he was particularly susceptible to in classes like this one. Times when reminders of his loneliness were forced to the forefront of his mind.

As classmates debate and disagree over which desk they want to claim for the rest of the school year, Ominis heads for the front of the room, settling for the desks to his immediate right. It made little difference to him where he sat, hardly as though he’d get any visual advantage, but given his unpopularity among his classmates Ominis had long since avoided more favourable tables when sitting on his own.

He goes through the motions of pulling out a quill and parchment, despite knowing they’ll go untouched for the next few hours as he drifts in and out of consciousness. Some rest was just about all he had to look forward to for the next few hours.

A familiar voice pulls him from his thoughts, someone who had stopped by his desk. His spine straightens.

“Ominis?” Soft and almost hesitant, in a way he wasn’t used to hearing from its normally assured owner, a rush of unexpected joy pulses through him as he recognises them, and his posture relaxes on reflex- MC, “Sorry, for bothering you I was just…is this seat taken?”

The unexpected line of question momentarily throws him off course, and a small laugh threatens to burst forth at their innocent inquiry.

With MC’s popularity, getting along with just about everyone in the school and the way they were excelling in all their classes, sometimes it was easy to forget this was their first year at Hogwarts. Then they asked something like that, and it was all too obvious.

“You’re not bothering me at all, MC,” He resists the urge to reach for his wand, catch a better understanding on how they were standing- or even, if there was anyone else in their company, “This seat’s free, why?”

A shuffle of shoes on stone, relief lacing their tone, “Oh good, I was hoping- I mean, if you’d not mind, if I could join you?”

A pulse of silence follows their question, Ominis finding himself momentarily lost for words, something that he found never happened, not to him.

Nobody ever wanted to sit next to Ominis Gaunt- a fact he’d become quickly familiar with in his first year. The only people who ever did sit with him were Sebastian and, once upon a time, Anne, sometimes even bickering over the seat in their early years. The occasional housemate might join him, if they were short on other choices.

But MC? MC, who Ominis knew had a wealth of friends in this class alone- many of which would be happy to offer MC a seat- and they wanted to sit with him? 

Even despite their almost too-easy companionship recently, Ominis knew he’d made an awful first impression on them that first night by the Undercroft, snapping at them as he had, threatening their mentor- the fact they’d headed straight for him now, of all the choices they had, was almost too unrealistic to consider.

Too late, he realises MC has mistaken his silence for rejection, he can hear the rustle of fabric as they start to fidget, the disappointment underpinning their rushed retraction as they desperately try to redeem whatever moment MC seems to believe they’ve ruined, “I-if not I totally understand! I didn’t mean to impose, I can sit somewhere else-”

“No!” He hopes he doesn’t sound as awkwardly flustered as he feels, frantically interrupting MC’s rambles before they can make the mistake of thinking Ominis didn’t want them there, “I mean, I’d be happy for you to join me.” He emphasises his point by shuffling along the bench slightly, aware he’s been sitting closer to the middle of the table, an old habit.

“Oh, thank you!” His chest gives another pang at the relief in MC’s voice as they slide onto the seat next to him, their arms brushing slightly at the proximity. Neither of them move away, even as MC continues their chatter, and Ominis can’t quite believe their evident happiness is because of him, feeling a smile take over his expression as they talk, “It was a relief to see you here, if I’m honest, you didn’t mention you were taking History of Magic!”

The easy way they said it risks going straight to his head, he tries not to give that much attention. “Well, nor did you. History of Magic isn’t the most popular choice amongst our peers you know, I didn’t expect you to take it honestly.”

It was true, which maybe was blindsided of him. MC had taken to spellcasting like a niffler to treasure, everyone knew that, but proficiency in practical magic didn’t necessarily mean they wouldn’t be interested in the theoretical, too.

Their mentor is the Professor of Magical Theory, afterall.

“It wasn’t really my choice, the school board chose my classes for me.”

Ominis supposed that was another explanation.

“That sounds unfair.”

MC shrugged, “Looking back maybe it was, but I didn’t exactly have the knowledge to make an informed decision on my classes at the time anyway.”

“Well, while the class is incredibly dull, it is useful for getting into some N.E.W.T classes, as long as you don’t mind all the essays Binns tends to assign.” He can’t help the look of distaste at the reminder that he had another year of that to endure. Late nights alone in some corner of the common room, trying to force out several inches worth of facts on Goblin Rebellions, always made more difficult when he needed his wand to search the textbooks. It nearly doubled the amount of time he had to spend on the assignments compared to his peers, not that any of the staff seemed to care.

Sebastian would always help, where he could, but History of Magic wasn’t even his subject- it never felt fair asking his friend to help, no matter Sebastian’s fondness for learning.

And now between Sebastian’s own studies, and his questionable preoccupation with finding a cure for Anne, Ominis doubts Sebastian would even have the time to offer his help.

MC nudged his shoulder gently, pulling him from his spiralling thoughts, “Well, I suppose I’m lucky to have a friend to study with, in that case.”

Warmth spreading from where they had brushed against him, Ominis tried not to feel too excited by their words, the silent offer- or was it a request? Sometimes, it was hard to tell with MC, but their sentiment was not lost on him. The suggestion of the pair of them studying together for History of Magic, working on the same essays that had been such a burden on Ominis for years now, but instead in the warmth of company and even teamwork, was almost enough to make up for the hand cramps Binns’ essay length would inevitably cause.

“I believe that might be my line.” MC didn’t know quite how truthful his statement really was.

“Careful Ominis, I’ll hold you to that.” He could think of no other reply but a small chuckle, as though their companionship was something he might ever want to avoid.

Please do, he couldn’t help but urge, hoping they meant it. Perhaps it was pathetic of him, the surge of glee he felt at something so measly as the possibility of working together on homework, but with years of pushing through the exhausting subject alone, guilt-riddled whenever he asked Sebastian to help him find something in the textbooks, nobody could really blame him.

“What did you mean when you said this class was dull, anyway?”

“So, I take it nobody’s warned you?” That was definitely unfair, everyone deserves an advance warning about Binns’ teachings. If only to make sure they remembered to bring a pillow to class, “He’s hopeless, rambles on for the entire lesson and hardly even recognises students, let alone calls on them- I’d not worry about that though, most people just use it for napping or messing around, as long as you’re not too loud he won’t notice. Or care. Nobody’s sure which it is.”

“That sounds like such a waste.” 

“Oh, so you’ll be paying attention then?” He grins, already knowing the answer.

“I never said that.” Their tone is equally as cheeky, punctuating it with a small laugh, “What about you then- you’re telling me that the ever perfect Ominis Gaunt naps in class?” He felt a flush of warmth flash across his face at their teasing, the ever perfect Ominis Gaunt-

“You expect me to get a full night's sleep in the same dorm room as Sebastian? The boy snores.” Not a complete lie, Sebastian did snore on occasion, it just wasn’t the reason Ominis struggled to sleep sometimes- but the jibe is enough to earn him another laugh out of MC.

“Oh no, he doesn’t!”

“Oh, he does.” Ominis grins at their obvious glee in teasing their mutual friend, even if Sebastian wasn’t here to defend himself, “I’ve considered casting silencio several times now, but I wouldn’t want to get predictable.” Or face retaliation.

He likes it, this easy conversation between them, the light jibes and laughter.

Despite their rocky start together, after that horrific night in the Scriptorium, he and MC had become closer; MC warmly greeted him whenever they crossed paths in the corridors, happily struck up conversation with Sebastian and Ominis outside of classrooms, but until now they’d never had any chances to talk where it was just them, without the buffer of their mutual friend. Now, with MC choosing to sit beside him, their conversation coming just as easy as it did whenever Sebastian was there, MC’s earlier words stuck in his mind, a surge of appreciation in his chest-

A friend.

MC considered him a friend. Not just ‘Sebastian’s tagalong’, or someone they talked to because it was convenient, but a friend, their friend.

There were only two other people in his life who had ever thought of Ominis as a friend, and now it was three.

Ominis wished he’d not been so harsh to MC that night by the Undercroft, so uncharacteristically emotional in the heat of the moment. It had been an impulsive lashing out that haunted him even more after the Scriptorium, when MC had defended him against Sebastian of all people- he knew what that must have taken, given the two were practically wrapped around each other’s wands these days, and still MC had taken Ominis’ side when Sebastian had wanted him to cast Crucio. Merlin, MC had all but demanded Sebastian cast it on them, just so neither Sebastian or Ominis would have to bear the torture curse themselves.

It was an act, a friendship, he still struggled to feel deserving of. 

Even now, surrounded by classmates perfectly suitable for MC to sit with, others who MC knew and greeted warmly, it had been Ominis they made a beeline for when they entered the classroom, Ominis whose company they chose over everybody else.

He wished he was able to convey just how much that really meant to him, without sounding like a complete moonmind, or risk scaring one of the few friends he has off by being too attached.

For now, he’s content just knowing they chose his company even if he doesn’t understand why, but elects not to dwell on it any further, happy just to enjoy the mindless conversation with MC- drawn to an end only by the sudden wave of silence that sweeps through the room, followed by the familiar drawling tone of Professor Binns.

As if on conditioned reflex, Ominis’ eyes begin to feel heavy.

The only thing that snaps him out of it is a quiet groan from MC, who’d already made the rookie error of making an attempt to pay attention, “Goblin Rebellion?”

He leans towards the left, closer to MC and murmurs to them conspiratorially, “A Binns specialty, they’re practically all he talks about.”

MC groans again, “I’ve had enough of Goblin Rebellions for an entire lifetime, thanks.”

It’s fortunate they seemed to be complaining more to themselves than him, because Ominis didn’t know how to respond to that, nor did he like the uncomfortable reminder of the sorts of dangerous activities that (rumouredly) occupied MC’s spare time.

Still, MC had never made such a direct reference to it before, or at least- never to Ominis. They remained frustratingly tight-lipped about where they slipped off to after class, and what they discussed with Professor Fig- regardless of the whispers that followed them around the castle. Despite his urge to ask, to find out exactly what dangers MC was facing, Ominis knew the value of secrets better than most, had respected the privacy MC was so vehement about maintaining.

It only made their small admission all the more meaningful. The confirmation that they were involved in the recent Goblin Loyalist action, and the fact they trusted Ominis with that information, however vague, knowing he wouldn’t push them.

Like they hadn’t pushed him when he brought up his family.

The pair fell into the same silence as the rest of the class after that, the dull tone of Professor Binns washing them into the arms of lethargy, the ghost none the wiser about the slipping attentions of his students.

Predictably, the sounds of whispered giggles and scratching quills echo from behind Ominis- a sound he knows by now is not the sign of a diligent student, but one proposing some game on parchment, or passing along a note. 

The pang of loneliness he’s so used to following after the sound never arrives, instead all he feels is the familiar edgings of exhaustion pulling at his eyes, any thoughts drifting far away to the tune of Binns’ mindless droning lecture, the scratching of quills on parchment, and the occasional whisper of a student all creating a harmonic lullaby which he had no interest in denying.

Going to lift his left hand, ready to settle in for a couple of hours of dreamless sleep, he almost jolts violently as a pressure falls atop of the outstretched limb, heavy, but not crushingly so.

His brain catches up to him before Ominis reaches for his wand, filling in the gaps with soft hair tickling the exposed parts of his wrist, familiar breaths that now sound deeper and closer than before.

MC had fallen asleep.

MC had fallen asleep, right next to Ominis.

Well, basically on top of him, if the weight on his arm was anything to go by. 

His initial alarm is quickly replaced by a surge of affection, and another of deep surprise.  For as tired as he often was, Ominis had only fallen on top of someone four times in his life. Once on each of his best friends, and twice on his Aunt Noctua. It was just about the most vulnerable position to put yourself in, willing to let your guard down completely around that person and place faith that they won’t betray that in any way.

Then here was MC, who hadn’t hesitated to use him as their makeshift pillow as they succumbed to the throes of sleep.

Him. Ominis Gaunt.

He almost can’t believe it, and wonders if he’s been dreaming up a positive History of Magic class this entire time, because at least that would be easier to believe.

For a moment, a stab of disappointment hits him as he realises MC probably only fell asleep on him by accident, not realising how close they were- but, he supposes MC could easily have leaned the other way, and they hadn’t. Just as easily as MC could have chosen any other table in the classroom to sit at, yet they’d chosen Ominis’- even though he’d chosen what was arguably the worst spot in the room.

If it had been difficult before, now it was nearly impossible to fight the smile that tugs at his lips- an expression that’s rare for him, especially these days, he notes with a pang of silly delight.

Just as quickly, his moment of warmth is ruined by a sharp spike of concern, as he notes the way MC hadn’t so much as stirred when Ominis almost pulled away from them in his earlier alarm. MC had fallen asleep faster than Ominis, which was no minor feat- he was at least self-aware enough to admit that much.

Their fatigue is too reminiscent of his own, something he wouldn’t wish on anyone. 

How much sleep were they getting at night, Ominis couldn’t help but worry.

Rumours of their escapades outside of the castle had only grown in frequency over recent weeks, between that and their undeniably demanding schoolwork, where does MC find the time to rest. Merlin, do they even allow themselves to rest?

A trickle of insecurity bled through his concern…Was it even Ominis’ place to ask?

Conflict raged within him, the want to ensure MC was taking care of themself, that his friend was alright, versus the fear of overstepping and pushing MC away in the process. Their friendship was new, despite the turmoil it had already endured, and he wasn’t quite ready to test its boundaries.

The idea came to him immediately.

He could ask Sebastian. His friend had many fine qualities, but Sebastian had never been great with boundaries- not where worry for the people he cared about was concerned. It was an endearing enough trait, when it wasn’t pissing him off, or worse yet, exposing his secrets to other people.

Resolved to casually investigate the matter later, Ominis allowed his lingering concern to fade to the back of his mind. MC was resting now, and he knew better than anyone that naps in the History of Magic classroom were always peaceful and empty of dreams. They’d rest well here.

And so would he.

Exhaustion was becoming too hard to resist, and with Binns well and truly lost in droning details and stories, it wasn’t as though they’d be getting up any time soon. The slow blinks of his eyes were becoming longer and more frequent, and as his head drops sharply with a fractional loss of consciousness, Ominis finally gives in to the urging pull of sleep, bolstered by the comforting weighted presence at his arm. To his sleepy mind, it feels all too close to an invite.

Logically, he should rest his head on his right hand instead, since MC was resting on his left and he didn’t have the heart to move them. It wouldn’t be fair for him to disturb them like that, that was all.

(It had nothing to do with the fact the pressure on his arm felt so warm and comforting. Nothing to do with the easy way MC was touching him, that physical contact between them a presence he was so unused to but deeply appreciated. Privately, he couldn’t help but wonder if he’d sleep all the better for it)

He’s too tired to think so pragmatically, for once he just wanted to do what felt natural, without overthinking it- to give in to the natural lean of his body, even as it sways him to the left, resting atop of MC.

Head cushioned by the fabric of their hood, as he easily fits to the junction of their shoulder, suddenly greeted by a wave of them- the faint smell of their shampoo, smooth material of new robes that hadn’t yet endured the might of a Hogwarts school year, and the slow beat of their heart, just audible over the muffle of robes and the droning of their Professor.

It lulls him to rest, not even realising as his breathing and MC’s effortlessly become synchronised, as the sweet pull of sleep finally getting the better of Ominis, along with a comfort he hadn’t felt in some time.

History of Magic wouldn’t be so bad, if he had this to look forward to in the future.