#ominis hl
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orqheuss · 2 years ago
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I would know him blind
(Ominis Gaunt/F!Reader SMUT)
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Summary:
He groaned again at the feeling of your pulse pounding under his fingertips, his voice gravelly and coated with arousal when he finally spoke. “What are you up to now, trouble?” *** You'd been with Ominis for some time, and as much as you loved your intimate times together, you wondered what it would be like to be in his shoes for a change. Your darling husband is more than happy to help you satiate your curiosity.
Word count: 4.6k
Tags: p n v sex, bondage, blindfolds, light bdsm, light dom/sub undertones, pet names, praise kink, ownership kink, corruption kink (just a lil bit), possessive!ominis, cunnilingus, established relationship, body worship, romantic sex
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You loved your husband more than anything in this world. You had been with Ominis since your sixth year of Hogwarts, and even now, ten years later, you were still as thick as thieves. He supported your desire to teach at the school, even though you would be gone for days at a time and away from his comforting arms, and in turn you supported him and his work as an inventor, no matter how much time he spent locked away in his office. Through it all, you were a team. It was a truly happy marriage, one you would be perfectly content in until your dying day. 
That being said, there were some aspects of your life that had gotten a bit…stale. Being together for so long led to some challenges with keeping things interesting. In this particular instance, your more intimate times were starting to become lackluster. It was still lovely whenever you two got together, but you longed for your husband to do something surprising. Ever since your first night together it had been the same routine, and you were, quite frankly, bored. 
Not that you’d ever tell him that. Godrick’s heart! 
Being a professor had its perks, one of which being access to the restricted section of the library at any hour of the day. No student is going to question a professor as to why they are out at such an hour, it would be absolutely balmy. Not that you didn’t miss the chaos of sneaking down there with one particular Sallow twin, but it was certainly nice to not fear the appearance of Peeves around any and all corners. On the nights that you slept at the castle, you’d been reading up on some things in the restricted section, and had learned some interesting changes to try in the bedroom that would hopefully intrigue the blond. Rather shockingly, the “Intimate Literature” section was…extensive. There were things in some of those books that you would have never thought of, even in your most raunchy dreams. 
One particular thing caught your attention, both for the possibilities it held but also for the fact that it had been something you thought about before: seeing in the way that Ominis sees. The Gaunt man’s blindness was never a hindrance to him, nor to you, but it definitely intrigued you. Around the house, he mainly saw through his enchanted wand, the location charm showing him shapes and outlines so he is able to get to and fro. But in the bedroom, Ominis preferred to use his hands, and sometimes his mouth, to find his way up and down your body. His favorite pastime was finding out what made you tick, what made you whine, what made you scream— always the tinkerer, always curious. 
As much as you loved him touching you, you wanted to know what it felt like when you touched him; no sight to help him know from what direction you were coming from or what you were going to do to him. One simple finger running down his chest would send his heart aflutter under your palm— your legs brushing against his would make him breathe heavy like you had taken all the air from his lungs. He once described it to you as feeling everything the earth could possibly give you but so much more. It looked electric, and Merlin, you wanted to be shocked all over. 
So, the only logical way for this to happen was for you to be blindfolded. 
All you had to do was convince your husband, and you knew exactly how to do it. 
The always busy blond was locked away in his office when you enacted your plan. You knocked gently on the door, waiting patiently for his word to enter. Upon his muffled, “come in” sauntered into the room, your steps precise and your hips swaying like a dancer. He sensed something different in your posture right away, his ears perking up slightly as he took in the soft cadence of your steps. Leaning back in his office chair and silently activating his location charm, he watched you stalk closer to his desk like a lioness on the prowl. You were the picture of innocence— a slight hop in your step and your arms folded behind your back like a schoolgirl, and in that moment Ominis wanted nothing more than to pin you over his lap and corrupt you for hours. A wayward smirk stretched across his face as he twirled his wand between his fingers, his free hand coming up from his arm rest when you got close enough and running across the skin of your thigh. The blond’s eyebrow twitched slightly at the feeling of the lace trim of your negligee, and his fingers tightened against your pillowy flesh, pushing the skirt upwards with intrigue until your hand stopped him in his tracks. You smirked deviously at the success of your plan so far before climbing into his lap, pressing all of your weight down on his already half-stiff member so he could feel just how hot and needy you were for him. 
Ominis groaned lightly at the sudden warmth atop his hardening cock, his hands coming up to grasp at your hips and rock you slightly for that delicious friction he craved. Your breath stuttered in your chest at your bare, sensitive skin rubbing against the unforgiving roughness of his corduroy trousers and you quickly lost yourself in the moment. One of your hands made its way into his blond tresses, mussing up his perfectly styled quiff and pulling him closer for a searing kiss. He eagerly responded to your whims, surrendering under your burning lips and digging his fingertips into the silk that draped across your body. His left hand began exploring as you kissed, roaming up from the love handles at your hips and towards your neck, pausing briefly to paw at your breast and finding nothing underneath your new nightdress. He bit your lip roughly, pulling you back by your neck and greedily sucking in the oxygen that he forgoed to continue snogging you. 
Even after years, his kisses still tasted like ambrosia to a mortal. 
He groaned again at the feeling of your pulse pounding under his fingertips, his voice gravelly and coated with arousal when he finally spoke. “What are you up to now, trouble?” 
You giggled lightly, a lilt of mischievousness hiding behind the sound of pseudo virtue that made Ominis’ heart skip in excitement. You pushed gently against his hand, signaling that you wanted to whisper your desires in his ear, and he pulled you towards his face again, loosening his grip enough for it to be just the right amount of malleable. Your hot breath fanned across the apples of his cheeks, sending a spark of desire down his spine. A part of him wanted to disregard whatever you wanted to tell him, wanted to throw you onto his desk and have his way with you. But, there was a stronger, more curious part of him that also wanted to know what you had in store. 
You bit lightly at his earlobe, licking away the pain before murmuring against his pulse. “I want to try something new tonight, if it’s alright with you, darling.” 
He growled at your fingernails wracking up and down his clothed arms, the bone just sharp enough to be felt but not enough to leave marks. He pulled your face back, staring into your eyes with an unnerving amount of contact that one with his disability would normally not be able to achieve. There was something tantalizing swirling in his irises, something dangerous, something devious, and you had to steel yourself to continue with your scheme and not drop to your knees and pleasure him then and there. His smile was lopsided and delicious looking when he replied. 
“What do you have in mind, little dove?” He traced his finger up the outside of your thigh once more, running the pad of his thumb against the coarse lace. “What devilish thing is swirling in that gorgeous brain of yours?” 
You let go of his arms, trusting Ominis to hold you still while you reached into your hair and undid the ribbon holding it up. The black silken cloth caught on the low lamplight of the office space and swallowed the glow like a deep pit of tar. Your hand was delicate as you grasped onto his wrist, lifting his hand from your thigh and raising it level with your chest, palm up towards the ceiling. You first ran the ribbon lightly along his hand, letting the ends tickle his skin just enough to catch his fancy before carefully laying it in his palm. His other hand released your throat finally, taking the other end of the ribbon between his fingers and pulling it until it was completely unraveled between your buzzing bodies. It was smooth in his palm, sensual, one would even say. He approximated that it was around the length of his arm, possibly the width of your wrist. 
A look of confusion quickly took over the blond’s features, and you chuckled softly at how adorable he looked. You took the silk from him, leaning forward just enough to gently drape it over his unseeing eyes and whisper against his parted lips. 
“I want to feel what you feel when I touch you.” 
He gasped against your mouth, his arm snaking around your hip and pressing against your lower back, pulling you impossibly closer until your ravenous core was flush with his throbbing manhood. Ominis’ smile was all teeth when you pulled back again, the ribbon dragging against his skin in the most delectable way as you gazed into his eyes. 
“Oh, you do, now?” He mused cheekily. “You want to know how I feel when you touch me?” 
He took the silk from your hands, letting it run over your exposed collarbones. There was something impish in his smile, like a wolf in sheep's clothing— the cheshire cat would be jealous of its verisimilitude. He was always mischievous in nature while at school, but he had never really brought it under the sheets with you. Perhaps your proposition excited him in a way unfamiliar, you mused. Gently moving it over the backs of your shoulders, he looped it around the front and draped it across your chest like a loose fitting scarf. It was your turn to be perplexed when his hands began to wind around the ends of the satin ribbon, the question only being answered after a maddening pause. Using the silk for leverage, Ominis yanked you closer until your chests were pressed together, noses brushing and mouths inches from touching. 
“You want to know how it feels to be blind— completely under the whim of your partner? You want to put your faith entirely in my hands, not knowing what I could possibly do to you next?” His voice lowered with arousal, taking on a gravely, almost growl-like cadence. “You want to surrender yourself to me?” 
You sucked in a shaking breath at his insinuation, nodding minutely as your eyes fluttered closed. You were far past coherent sentences at that point. His mouth only inched closer with each word. 
“Oh, my darling girl, your wish is my command.” 
He stole your breath with his kiss, his skin feeling like pure sunlight under your fingertips. He stood from his seat with you in his arms, your legs quickly wrapping around his waist as he made his way towards your bedroom via the route he memorized long ago. 
Your comforter is plush when you land, cushioning you as Ominis rests his body above yours. You pull him downwards by his collar, your hands only getting a small moment in his hair before he has you by the wrists, one of his hands roughly planting them above your head while the other explored your curves. Only a minute in his domain and you were already his prey. The blond leaned forwards slightly, his back arching so he could reach your supple, sensitive throat, before nipping and sucking at the webbing between your shoulder and neck. You keened softly, rolling your hips upwards to meet his gentle hip trusts. He let go of your wrists, trusting you to keep them there as he carded his hands down your sides, only stopping when he got to the teasing lace of your negligee’s trim. More and more kisses were pressed to the column of your throat as he smoothed the fabric up your body, revealing your bare, naked body underneath to the world. He groaned at the feeling of your baby-soft skin under his fingertips. 
“Nothing underneath? Such a good girl for me.” 
You felt Ominis reach into his back pocket for his wand, slowly bringing it forwards and above your heads. The point just barely touched the skin of your wrist when he lazily whispered the binding spell. 
“Incarcerous.” 
Cotton rope the color of the forest at night wrapped itself around your conjoined wrists, tightening just the right amount so that you couldn’t move but you weren’t in pain before winding around a bar on your headboard. A startled gasp fell from your lips at your sudden capture, your eyes filling with excitement and a little bit of fear at the predatory grin stretching across your husband's face. His hands trailed up your sides again, sending delightful shivers through all of your nerve endings on his journey to your eyes. His fingers paused at the tips of your ears, the ribbon brushing against where your hair was fanned across the bedspread. 
Ominis smoothed his thumb across your cheekbone, softening his smile as he leaned down to press a kiss to the tip of your nose. His voice was little more than a breathy whisper against your eyelashes. “Are you sure about this, my love?” 
You smiled at his care for you, pressing a soft kiss to the closest bit of skin you could reach before answering him, your voice flooded with love. “Yes, my dear. I want you to do whatever you want to me. Make me feel like you do.” 
He groaned at  your words, taking your consent to wrap the ribbon around your head, tying it in a simple knot at the back. The last thing you saw were his starlight-filled eyes before your world was bathed in darkness. 
You were incredibly aware of your level of undress when Ominis moved his body away from yours, opening up your skin to the chill of the room without his body heat. You squirmed against the rope slightly, testing its strength before trying to train your ears to hear your husband moving around the room. Everything was eerily quiet— not even the sound of the grandfather clock in the hallway could be heard beyond the closed door. For a moment you feared the blond left you in the room, leaving you tied up against the bed so he could work in peace. Your heart began to pound harder in your chest with nerves. 
All fear quickly fled from your body at the feeling of his fingertips running up the skin of your stomach, drawing a long gasp from your chest. It felt like his hand was touching every nerve in your body, igniting your veins in sinful fire as he crept up and up towards your heaving breasts. He started off slow, just moving his fingers up and down different parts of your body with just the barest touch until you were begging for more. This type of teasing was torturous for you, only just aware of where he was but never knowing if he was going to give you what you wanted. 
You whined in the back of your throat, body vibrating with need as he grazed against your chest for a fifth time. “Please, Ominis!” 
You were sure your heart would give out when his other hand wrapped itself around your left mound, squeezing the skin between his fingers before taking the right nub between his teeth and nipping. Ominis chuckled at the whine that spilled from your throat, his voice reverberating through your sternum and sending a lovely heat to your center. He let the rest of his weight fall on top of you, relishing in you feeling every bit of skin he had uncovered in your small moment of silence. He was completely bare for you, his hardness pressing against your thigh and pulsating with a delicious heat. You could feel him everywhere. His fingers brushed against the very fabric of your being, pulling you apart by your strings. His breath curled around your lungs, stealing the air frantically inhaled through your squeezing throat. His mouth licked at your brain, sending pulses of pleasure down to your core. You were in utter bliss under his careful, loving hands. 
He laughed again at how pliable you were under him, murmuring against your stiff peak. “Where do you feel me right now, pet?” 
You sighed shakily as his voice shot through you like a bullet. “Everywhere. I feel you absolutely everywhere.” 
The blond took your nipple between his teeth again, flicking it with his tongue until your reacting whimper pittered off into the air. “That’s how I feel whenever I’m around you.” 
Ominis began to kiss down your chest, pausing to mouth hotly at your hip bones and leave open mouthed kisses on your naval. “Your mere presence shifts the air around me— changes the trajectory of time itself in my mind. The world slows when you touch me, my darling. My name falling from your lips feels like one thousand tiny suns kissing my cheeks in devotion.” 
He mumbled your name against your lower stomach, hopelessly inflamed by how you shivered at the word. 
Unable to resist his carnal desires any longer, he dives into your sweet tasting center, first licking a long stripe from base to tip before lapping at you like he was starved and you were his only source of sustenance. You keened loudly for him as stars filled every space behind your blinded eyes. 
There he is, you thought. There’s his tongue wrapped around my soul, stealing all my life force one flick at a time. 
He moaned at your scent, fully slotting himself between your legs and encasing his head between your thighs. It felt like his tongue was a lightning bolt against your sensitive skin, shocking your clit with every stroke, every tap, every suck. You completely surrendered to his whim, clamping your thighs against his ears, fully intent on keeping him right where he was for the rest of time. It had never felt this good before, never felt this encompassing. 
Ominis pressed his face deeper into you, taking the button at the top of your most private parts and sucking it into his mouth. You nearly screamed, your words jumbled as they launched themselves into the air. 
“Fuck! Oh God, Ominis!” 
His strong hands pulled your legs away from his head, his mouth unlatching from you like a leech as he paused to catch his breath. 
“Oh, is it a ‘God’ you want, precious?” 
His voice had never sounded breathier— never sounded so completely sinful. 
The blond laughed, a barking thing that sent a tingle to your toes. “I do not care if every single God and Goddess across all of the world, all of mythology was fighting over you— you are mine.” 
He bit harshly at the pillowy flesh of your inner thigh, indenting his teeth marks into you so everyone would know you were owned by him and him alone.  
“But if you truly wish for something devout, something reverent, then let my hands be your chapel.” Ominis gently ran his fingernails along the skin of your waist, dragging them up and down until you were a shivering, wiggling mess. “And I will treat your screams, your whimpers, your pleas as my scripture.” 
His unseeing eyes never left the direction of your heady, breathy pants as his middle finger slid deep inside of you, long and lithe and curling against the spot that made you believe religion was real. Moans of his name and swears that would make even the devil blush swam in the air around the pair of you, only being swallowed by the plush feather-down comforter under your writhing body. You plead with your husband for more, unsure what more entailed but all the more pressing your center against his awaiting mouth once again and grinding against his tongue. He quickly complied, pressing a second finger into your opening and thrusting in and out at a sped up pace. His lips latched back onto your needy clit and that was all it took for you to spill over into maddening nirvana. 
Your hazy mind picked up on the feeling of your husband leaning up on his elbows, kissing his way back up your chest until he reached your gasping lips. He quickly stole them in a gentle but desperate kiss; you could taste yourself on his lips and it drove you even further into madness. His prickly, end of the day stubble rubbed against your cheek as he tucked his face into your neck, kissing up and down your shoulder and neck with urgency. 
“You did so good for me, sweetheart. So, so perfect— just for me, so good just for me.” He was breathing even heavier than you against your pulse, hopelessly devoted to your pleasure, your happiness. 
He kissed your pulse, his whispered voice filled with adoration.“Mon coeur.”
He kissed your nose this time. “Mon âme.”
Finally, he pressed delicate kisses to your eyelids, resting his forehead against yours. “Ma vie.” 
My heart. My soul. My life. 
Warmth filled your entire body, your heart squeezing around his words and committing this moment to memory. Never before had you felt so loved, so worshiped. It was iridescent, the way you could picture his love-struck smile glowing behind your eyes— completely and irrevocably arduous. 
Still feeling his burning desire against your inner thigh, you rocked your hips against his, pleas beginning to spill from you once again, but this time with a need to please him. 
“Please, Ominis. I love you so much. Take me. Use me. I’m yours, no one else's. I want to feel you inside of me.” 
He bit your shoulder roughly, muffling his animalistic grunt before unlatching his jaws and leaning up on his knees. The blond spread your legs wider, lifting your hips slightly and wrapping your legs around his waist as he lined up with your entrance. You mewled at the feeling of his head rubbing against your opening, stretching you out slightly and giving you a taste for what was to come. 
Ominis whimpered at the feeling of your soft heat against his cock, a little bit of his original domineering persona slipping away at how welcoming you felt for him. “I love you too, my dove.” 
With no other words, the blond pressed his hips closer to yours, letting his length slide into your sweltering center bit by bit to not overwhelm you. You could feel every curve of his shaft, every vein along the underside without your sense of sight. Your touch was heightened to its full extent, and it was earth shattering how good this felt. You were simultaneously freezing and burning, living and dying. Your souls could have mingled together and entwined along your timelines with a burning pyre, thrusting you both into every lifetime possible to relive this moment over and over and it would never be enough for you. You both moaned in tandem when your hips became flushed once again, pelvis bones pressing into each other for a delectable friction. 
Ominis paused to catch his breath, little tiny moans breaching his lips between each inhale and exhale. His fingers wrapped around your hips, grasping onto your natural handles there as he growled under his breath, just loud enough for you to hear with your slightly heightened sense of hearing. 
“I am going to make you feel so full, so pleasured, that by the time your climax sends you into oblivion the only word that will be able to grace your lips will be my name.” 
With that, he pulled out of you until only his tip was still inside and slammed into you, his hips harshly knocking against yours and his slit kissing your cervix. You wailed into the night as he continued to pound into you, chasing his own pleasure while still being perceptive of yours. In and out he went, the large prominent vein at the base of his lovely cock rubbing against the ridges inside of you in the most heavenly way. Your sounds sang together like an otherworldly chorus, your tones rising and falling in harmony as they floated delicately up towards the ceiling. Ominis’ hands continued to dig into your skin, his fingers surely leaving bruises on your hips that would last for days. You didn’t care in the slightest— all you could feel was bliss. If you thought earlier was pleasurable, this was pure, unfiltered ecstasy. The knot in your stomach tightened with each thrust of your husband's hips, each time taking him to the hilt and sending blinding whiteness behind your useless eyes. 
The blond’s hips stuttered as his orgasm fast approached, yours not far behind as he could tell by how tightly you were squeezing him. He surged forwards towards your face, capturing your lips in a kiss that was more teeth than anything else as he rocked the entire bed with his velocity. The headboard banged harshly against the wall as he swallowed your moans and screams, only the sound of his name breaching through the jumbled nonsense. Ominis nosed at your jaw, groaning next to your ear as his thrusts got sloppier and less rhythmic. 
“Come for me, my love— my life.” 
The instinctual, innate love he had for you was what ultimately did you in, his words ricocheting you into the strongest rapture you had felt in some time. Your husband followed soon after, your name conjoining with his as you both tumbled into the sweet hereafter. 
Your breaths tangled together as you both came down from your high. Ominis was the first to break the spell, pulling out of you gently before getting up and procuring a towel from your adjoining bathroom. He cleaned you like one would dust a prized possession, carefully and with reverence. You were like a precious jewel that he had to protect, something he could admire for years, centuries, millennia to come. Next were the bonds on your arms, which he undid with deft fingers. Your arms dropped to the bed in a grand thump, all of your muscles giving up from how hard you were thrashing. Ominis lifted you off the bed, his hands on your shoulders as he slotted himself behind you, letting your back rest against his chest as he finally undid the blindfold. Your eyes squinted at the sudden light of the room, fluttering closed for a moment longer as you relaxed back into your husband. The blond carefully took each of your wrists into his hands, bringing them up to his lips and kissing away the minute bruising. You swooned, perfectly content to stay in this moment until the very end of time— until the world died in a grand ball of fire, or with a tiny poof. 
Ominis kissed the side of your temple, rubbing his cheek against yours like a cat. “Was that everything you hoped for, my dear?” 
You raised your hand up to his face, softly cradling his cheek in your palm. Pure affection spilled from you both in waves. 
“Yes, my heart. You were absolutely perfect.”  
***
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choccy-milky · 6 months ago
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seb is lucky ominis cant see ref from triptrippy
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anomalyaly · 2 months ago
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right where you left me
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Summary: You died. Sebastian secretly had a portrait of you commissioned.
I profusely apologize for the pain.
Inspired by @sychenb for the prompt idea. Also crediting @sloanesallow for her headcanon about Sebastian keeping track of numbers.
(also sort of inspired by Unus Annus - iykyk - and Taylor Swift, if you couldn't guess by the title)
Tags: Angst, F!Reader POV (you), unreliable narrator, vague ship (Sebastian x reader/Ominis x reader), Sebastian was in love with you but never confessed, death, grief, ambiguous ending, overall the sads in general, I cried while writing this
AO3/Wattpad
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It had been 279 days since you died.
At least, that’s what Sebastian tells you — your portrait, anyway. It was all that was left of you after the devastating battle you had fought and never walked away from. You hadn’t even known he’d had a portrait of you commissioned when you were alive until you woke up, your body cold, your face illuminated by the flickering candles of the Undercroft.
He comes to visit you every day — some days, he simply sits in front of you, cross-legged and silent. You creep into the frame and study him, the shadows on his face, a haunted look in his eye — unfamiliar. You can only recall a bright, talkative, charming boy with whom you were once close. You didn’t recognize him the first time he visited you, yet his presence brings you comfort.
On other days, you see traces of the boy he was before. He bursts in through the gate talking nonstop about everyone who misses you, about something he saw that you would have liked or that reminded him of you. Sometimes, he even brings you gifts and places them in front of your frame so you can admire them when he’s away.
That’s where he keeps you — hidden behind a wooden crate in the Undercroft like a sacred shrine, untouched by anyone but him. He only speaks with you when he is alone.
Another boy comes in on occasion, and you only know because of the sound of his voice and the pulsing red light of his wand that you can see from behind the pile of crates. Ominis, you remember Sebastian telling you, another friend from when you were alive. Sometimes they argue, other times they refuse to acknowledge each other. But Sebastian always keeps you tucked away, his own personal secret.
“It’s almost Christmas,” he sighs as he plops down in front of you. “300 days since you…well, since— ”
He could never bring himself to finish that sentence, even after almost a year. You never finish it for him.
“Are you going back to Feldcroft?” you ask, though you already know the answer.
He shakes his head. “I wouldn’t leave you here alone. I couldn’t do that to you.”
You knew he probably hadn’t been back since that dreadful day. He had only spoken of it once to refresh your memory. He never brought it up again.
“Sebastian,” you say, and he perks up at the sound of his name leaving your painted lips, “how come you always hide me away when Ominis comes in? Doesn’t he want to talk to me, too?”
His eyes flash with something — anger, perhaps, it was hard to tell from your two-dimensional world — and he stands, approaching your portrait. “He wouldn’t understand.”
“I’m only a portrait,” you tease, trying to lighten the mood. “It’s not like you’ve been practicing necromancy.”
It wasn’t the right thing to say, but you don’t completely understand why. He turns away from you, fists clenched, shoulders tense and hunched over, before running his fingers through his hair and repeating himself more adamantly. “He wouldn’t understand.”
You remember him uttering a similar statement throughout your short life at Hogwarts — secrets that only the two of you shared, unbeknownst to Ominis until it was too late. “Surely he misses me, too— ”
“Did you love him?”
The question takes you by surprise, though you think it’s not the first time he’s asked it. “What?”
Sebastian whirls to face you, his gaze intense, demanding. “Did you love him? Or did you love me?”
Your portrait blinks, confused. Truthfully, you hadn’t been alive nearly long enough to confirm your feelings for either of them, but you knew that both boys had been important to you during your last few months of life. The portrait of you had only been a time capsule of your fifteen-year-old self — undecided and immature. You’re not even certain if the emotions you feel now are real or remnants of what you experienced when you were alive. “I…I cared deeply for both of you if that’s what you’re asking.”
Your answer nearly breaks him, as if he’s heard it a million times before. He tugs at his hair, the movement causing him to look frenzied and mad. “That’s not what I asked! Who did you — ”
“Sebastian?”
The voice of the intruder causes both of you to freeze. Sebastian pulls himself out from behind the crate and holds a finger to his lips before pushing it in front of you once more.
“Over here, Ominis.”
You hear footsteps and see the red glow of the other boy’s wand, then shuffling as Sebastian strategically places himself in front of the wooden box. The echoing footsteps grow closer, and you straighten at Ominis’s frantic tone as he speaks.
“Who were you talking to?” he asks. “I…I thought I heard…her.”
“No one else is here but me,” Sebastian says, guarded.
You can practically feel Ominis’s internal struggle to believe him. You decide that there have been enough secrets between the three of you — you’re not going to let it carry on post-mortem.
“Ominis? Is that you?” you call out. You hear Sebastian press his body against the crate in front of you. Ominis pushes past him, and they both tumble into it, knocking it over and exposing your portrait.
Chaos ensues at Ominis’s realization. The two boys are shouting at each other in front of you as you are helpless to stop them — Ominis, for having yet another secret kept from him, and Sebastian, for defending his reasonings. You aren’t sure if it’s because of jealousy, grief, or some combination of the two, but all you want is for the noise to stop.
You call out helplessly from your portrait, wishing you could step between them, just as you had done time and time again all those months ago. Before everything had gone so wrong.
Suddenly, hot, angry tears are pouring down both of their faces, and you are overcome with just how useless you are at this moment — a fragmented memory, trapped within the confines of your magical canvas. You want nothing more than to hug each of them, to let them feel your arms around them in comfort and take their pain away.
But you are gone.
The two boys now stand solemn and silent in front of you. Ominis takes a step closer, his wand hovering over your portrait before he runs his fingers along the gilded frame. “Is it…really you?”
“No.” You can hear the flatness in Sebastian’s voice, how tired and worn he truly is. He repeats exactly what you thought only moments before as if to confirm it. “She hardly remembers what happened, or even who we are. She’s just a fragment. A memory.”
You want to argue that it is you, but you know that he’s right. You barely remembered your living self until Sebastian explained everything to you on his daily visits. Whispers of your personality still shine through on occasion, but you are otherwise simply existing.
Ominis sighs, and you can hear the weight behind it, as if he had been holding his breath and finally allowed himself to release it. He traces his fingers along the divots of the frame once more, and you try to will yourself to feel it.
The two boys exchange an unspoken conversation that thickens the tension in the air. They seem to come to an agreement, and you let out a small breath — if you can call it that — of relief when they sit down in front of you and appear to bask in your presence. You stay quiet and allow them this moment — it’s the only thing you can do.
The days that follow are the same. No longer is Sebastian coming in alone for covert meetings with your portrait. Now, you see both Sebastian and Ominis at the same time every single day, a religious appointment that they’ve set aside just for you. They take turns talking to you, even if they can only manage a few words, and you learn to appreciate their company, knowing that you were loved by both of them in life.
Just like old times, Sebastian says, and the three of you laugh.
Christmas approaches quickly, or that’s what they say when they come to visit a short while later. They bring your favorite things from when you were alive — chocolate frogs, flowers, even books, which Sebastian reads to you — and they tell you stories about you and the kind of person they knew you to be. You wonder if it’s true, or if they have created an idealistic image of you since you are no longer there with them. Not really.
Kind, they say that you were, thoughtful, loving, self-sacrificial, and maybe a bit idealistic. You were friends with both of them, after all, the mischievous pair that they were, before everything was taken away from them, before life was unfair. They try to smile for you and remind you that Christmas at the castle is a time for celebration, but you can tell that it’s a weak facade.
You smile back at them anyway.
The anniversary of your death approaches. Neither of them can bring themselves to say anything, aside from a few words to honor you. So the three of you sit in tearful silence, admiring the flowers that they decorated your portrait with. You think you can almost smell the sweet aroma of the bouquets.
Something changes in the air — you can sense it — though you aren’t sure what. You notice it when their visits become shorter, with fewer stories to tell, and fewer presents left in front of your frame. Sebastian and Ominis start showing up at separate times, stopping in for a brief hello before leaving with an excuse. You start to wonder what they are doing when they are gone, but you are unable to leave your frame — only one portrait of you was ever commissioned.
Soon, they start missing days, returning at a later time with profuse apologies about how life was busy, but they still miss you. Difficult classes, detention, studying for NEWTs, and preparing for a career — all of these seem to take precedence over you. But they still manage to make time in all of the hectic day-to-day activities, and you look forward to the days when they do come.
You wake up one morning and realize you are in a different location — Feldcroft, most likely, though you hadn’t seen it since that fateful day. Sebastian hangs your frame up on the wall, promising that he and Ominis will come to visit you more often now that they have graduated.
They don’t.
The length of time in between seeing them grows longer, you’re certain of it. Each time one of them arrives, they look a little bit different — sometimes they have longer hair, other times a bit of scruff around their chins, but they always come in looking more weathered than they had when you last saw them.
You realize that they are doing something that you will never again be able to join them in — growing older. You start to wonder about their lives outside of you, yet your painted mind cannot comprehend what an adult life looks like, forever frozen in your adolescent state. You find that you are unable to relate to any of their stories, and they seem to be holding back in what they choose to share.
I wish you were still here, they always say before they go, and you start to wonder if they mean it.
At long last, the visits from your once two closest friends become scarce, and you aren’t certain how much time has passed since someone last spoke to you. The bright flowers that once decorated your golden frame wither and die, and the little gifts they used to leave stay untouched and unopened. The tiny cottage in Feldcroft becomes a sepulcher of your essence — a permanent reminder that you are no longer among the living.
You can’t help but wonder if it was something you did, if their reasons for not returning were your fault. You can feel the stories that they used to tell you fading away, unable to retain the memories in your current form.
You decide that it’s time to rest.
In the quiet house, just south of Hogwarts, your portrait closes its eyes. You do not wake again.
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aliazen · 25 days ago
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A round-up of old friends
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lavenderandturpentine · 3 months ago
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Sebastian: MC is pretty sweet to hang out with. Don’t you guys agree?
Garreth: Well, she is pretty cool. Brilliant at potion making too.
Ominis: I will admit that I rather enjoy her presence.
Sebastian: Yet, it simply isn't enough to be in MC's presence, is it?
Garreth: What are you implying?
Sebastian: I need to be inside of her...
Ominis: *sighs* Sebastian…
Garreth: That’s taking it too far…
I can just imagine Gar and Omi being so over Seb’s obsession with mc 😂
Needed something to lighten the mood today. 💚🖤
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whizzing-fizzbee · 1 month ago
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Sebastian, trying to flirt with MC: Are you on the naughty or nice list this year?
MC: I’m always on the nice list.
Sebastian: I’m on the naughty list.
Ominis: Most murderers are.
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restingjudge · 2 years ago
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Everything new is actually well-forgotten old.
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girl-named-matty · 10 months ago
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MC: *About Sebastian* I could fix him. Ominis: He has like four other people trying to fix him. I'm one of them. MC: Wait what- Ominis: We're starting to look like a construction crew.
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rainbowenot · 3 months ago
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day nine - fire. A little sketch of the famous moment when these two idiots studied Confingo and were left without eyebrows. I love this story! HAHA
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celerydays · 1 year ago
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Commission for @hotcinnam0nspicy for their Hogwarts Legacy OT4 fic Hidden Intentions [WattPad and AO3]
Thank you for the support and the opportunity to draw this cute cover art! 🥰
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moonstruckmoony · 5 months ago
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Sneaking friends into the Room of Requirement 👀 Guess what each of them are saying/thinking?
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orqheuss · 1 year ago
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Snake Charmer
(Ominis Gaunt x F!Gorgon!Reader) Fluff? World building? Set up? Who knows tbh. It's a story.
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Summary:
Ominis could hear her pulse quicken as she stilled. Everything else in the cramped space fell away, leaving just the two slytherin’s, each one with their own morose history that has been broadcasted for all the world to hear. Two peas in a pod— two sides to the same coin— two scales on the same snake. *** Why was everyone so interested in the new girl? Ominis Gaunt was about to find out.
Word count: 3.8k
AN: because I wanted to write a story about Ominis and a Gorgon falling in love
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Ominis was sure he was going mad. In fact, he was positive— some point between the end of his fourth year and the beginning of his fifth, he had gone absolutely batty. That was the only logical conclusion to the fact that he was hearing voices at all hours of the day. 
It started the day the new fifth year won in a duel against his best friend, Sebastian. The Defense Against the Dark Arts class was moving at the same pace it always did: introduction to the new spell, practice on a small object, practice on a larger, vaguely person shaped object, and then finally a duel between each pair of students to prove their mastery. This day, though, took a different turn than what the young blond was expecting. Ever since starting at Hogwarts, Sebastian Sallow was Ominis’ dueling partner; there was never any question about it. It became such a habit that no one dared approach the pair once Professor Hecat announced the beginnings of the school sanctioned battles— you would never see one Slytherin without the other. So, when Hecat decided to pair the new fifth year with his best friend, well, it could be seen quite plainly that Ominis was not happy about the matter. 
As the duelists took their positions across from each other, the blond haired boy leaned against the nearest wall, a distinct look of annoyance turning down the corners of his lips and narrowing his eyebrows into a straight line. Most people would consider the look on his face a pout— not that anyone would ever dare at mentioning this to the boy. Ominis Gaunt did not pout, and he certainly did not scoff under his breath at the sound of his friend joking around with the new girl. What a preposterous idea. He wasn’t jealous, don’t be absurd. 
Though, it was nice hearing Sebastian get knocked down a peg by someone who had never held a wand in her life up until that point. 
Once the class was over, all Ominis wanted to do was slump himself into the Undercroft and take a well deserved nap. His head was pounding, and the near constant whispers of his classmates about the new girl were driving him up the wall. He couldn’t help but make snarky remarks in his head, quietly laughing to himself at the ridiculous questions his classmates were mumbling.
“Why do you think she wears that head scarf? I wonder what’s under there.” 
Hair, probably. 
“Did you hear her accent? Where do you think she’s from? Certainly not around here!”
Ten points to Ravenclaw for stating the obvious.
“Did you see how she was looking at Sallow? She just got here and already thinks she can take the most attractive boy in our year. The nerve!” 
Sebastian has the emotional range of a teaspoon, but best of luck!
“How could you even tell where she was looking? I couldn’t see a thing through those glasses of hers! Why is she wearing shaders inside?” 
Bold style choice, but alright. Not that he could really judge, of course. 
“Do you think she’s blind like Gaunt? Great, another person I have to make sure I don’t trip over.” 
That statement got his attention. Could she be blind like him? He didn’t hear any echolocation charm on her wand, nor did he sense a seeing eye animal or a cane around her. A very small part of him warmed slightly at the idea that he wasn’t alone in his struggles anymore. He craned his head more to the side, trying to catch more of the gossip as everyone began to file out of the classroom.
“No, she can’t be blind. It looks like she can get around just fine on her own— no charm blinking on her wand or anything. Still quite weird, though.” 
Ominis’ shoulders sank minutely at the news, the warmth in his chest freezing over once again. He sighed to himself before pushing away from the wall, deciding to just let his body carry him to the Undercroft on autopilot while he stewed in his thoughts. Sebastian was off talking to the new girl, so he would likely not be joining him until well after his next round of Crossed Wands later that day. Normally he would join the boy, cheering him on from the sidelines with the rest of his fawning fangirl club, and he was about to turn in the direction of the clock tower when the brunette’s voice broke through the haze. 
“Suppose I could interest you in some unsanctioned fun?” 
Well, if his new best friend was going to be there, then he wouldn’t miss Ominis’ presence all that much.
Just as the blond had resigned himself to an afternoon of solitude, another voice came through the crowded musings of his classmates. 
“Gods, I’m starving.” 
A completely mundane statement, one that had likely been uttered by half of the class as they left, but something about the voice drew him in. It was low in tone, like they were trying to hide their voice instead of projecting it to their friends, and had a slight hiss to it just under the words like the person was speaking through a mouthful of fangs. Ominis paused in his steps just outside the doorway, his ear turned towards the classroom as he tried to find the voice again. All he found was silence and the tiny ticks of professor Hecat’s dark magic detectors. 
Shaking his head, he leaned away from the door and made his way down the stairs, his mind puzzling through what just happened. He must have been imagining it, he thought to himself. The voice hardly sounded human, let alone familiar. Must have just been a trick of his mind, he had slept terribly the night before so it was logical he was just tired. Rounding the corner towards his secret alcove, Ominis stepped through the clockwork door to the Undercroft and began to climb down the winding staircase, hopeful that a bit more sleep would do him good. 
Fortunately, he had a lovely nap on the chaise lounge he conjured. Rather unfortunately though, the voice persisted. Morning, noon, and night he heard that incessant hissing tone in his ears, each day getting louder and more bold with what it was saying. First it was small things, things that most people would think to themselves throughout a normal day. 
“Where’s the bathroom in this place?” “My head itches.” “What I would give to take a nap right about now.” 
Normal things. But then, the statements started to get a bit…odd. 
“There’s something under my scale!” “He was rude, I want to bite him.” “I can hear a mouse somewhere. Can I eat it? Please?”
While Ominis was tired of hearing the random, grating voice slither through his ears at a constant rate, he was happy to report that he no longer thought he was going mad. The voice belonged to a snake— that much he was sure of. But, where was the snake? Did it know he could hear it? How was it somehow always in his vicinity? 
That was the question that was currently keeping him up at night. 
Everything culminated one faithful day when he next had Defense Against the Dark Arts. Today was lecture, and much like the rest of his classmates, he bemoaned having to sit and listen to professor Hecat go on and on about some unknown entity or creature that he could never encounter for the rest of his days. It wasn’t that she wasn’t a good teacher, far from it! But, much like any professor in the castle, she was not immune to the dreaded monotonous lecture voice. 
Upon entering the classroom, the first thing Ominis heard was Hecat’s voice speaking in hushed tones to someone. He would never admit it outloud, but the boy was dreadfully nosy. Honing his ears in the direction of the whispering, he caught on to her tone first— caring, soft, gentle, words that normally wouldn’t be found within one hundred feet of the professor— then the tail end of her words. 
“—if you are uncomfortable with today’s lesson, please know that you can leave at any time.” 
An equally soft voice replied in turn, a hint of uncomfort lacing their words. “Thank you, professor. I appreciate the sentiment, but I will be fine. It is not the first time I have been a part of such a lecture.” 
Ominis stilled in his seat, the hairs on the back of his neck standing at attention when he recognized the voice. It was the new girl again. Merlin, it seemed she had everyone wrapped around her little finger, even the formidable Dinah Hecat! 
It wasn’t that he had a problem with the new fifth year, in fact she had been quite nice to him when they met in the common room, it was just that all the rumors surrounding her made her sound a bit big for her britches. First she beat Sebastian in a duel, something no one has done since he started going to Crossed Wands and honing his talent, then she invites him to Hogsmeade with her and suddenly a troll is hellbent on clobbering up the street? Not to mention all the other things Ominis had heard about: taking out Ashwinder camps in her spare time? Flying all over the sodding Scottish Highlands and getting into all kinds of trouble against the Ranrok Loyalists? Sneaking into the restricted section with Sebastian and earning him another bloody detention, because what, she batted her eyelashes at him and he folded like a cheap suit? Who was this girl, and why did trouble follow at her heels like a pack of hellhounds? No, Ominis didn’t have a problem with her, he was suspicious of her, and the fact that the voice started soon after she got here certainly didn’t help. 
The blond sat back in his seat, arms crossed across his chest and a befuddled look clouding his expression as the professor took her spot at the front of the room, tapping her wand on the rickety old chalkboard and writing out the subject of the lecture for today. 
“Today, class, we will be discussing Gorgons, another creature traditionally deemed mythological but in fact walks among us magic folk unseen. Though, they very rarely make the journey across the sea to our backyard.” 
Ominis’ eyebrows narrowed more in confusion as he thought about Hecat’s words to the new girl. Why would she be uncomfortable with this lesson? What secret was she hiding that was related to Gorgons of all things? He tuned back into the lesson, hoping to answer some of his questions. 
Professor Hecat paced around the room as she talked, taking strides up and down the lengths of desks and weaving through her collections of artifacts from her time as an Unspeakable. 
“Gorgons, or ‘gorgos,’ meaning ‘fierce, terrible and grim’ in Greek, are inherently female creatures with snakes for hair and the ability to turn anyone who meets their gaze into stone. Many of you are likely familiar with the myth of Medusa, the only mortal Gorgon that was callously slayed by the Greecian hero, Perseus. But, there are two other Gorgons known in history: Stheno, the mighty or strong, and Euryale, the Far Springer.” 
The room was bathed in silence as Hecat paused in her speech, giving the class time to take notes on the creatures. Ominis sat still, his mind awash with possibilities for why the new girl would need to be excused from this lesson. Her accent was Greek, that was for sure. Could she have a history with Gorgons? That wouldn’t make sense, though. Many students have had run-ins with the creatures discussed in DADA, but they were never offered to skip that lesson. So, why was the new girl so special? 
A sharp, insistent sound shook the blond from his thought spiral, causing him to wince at the volume suddenly ricochetting in his ears. A terrible hiss filled the room, slithering throughout the encompassing space and echoing off the tall, vaulted cathedral ceiling. It was haunting, eerie, constant, like the creak of the floor in an abandoned house or a busted pipe in the middle of the night when you’re the only one home. A shiver ran up Ominis’ spine at the sound, trying desperately to block it out while also listening to those around him to see if they heard it too. He heard no whisperings, but with a quick flick of his wand, sparking the wood to life, he could see the silhouette of his classmates looking around like they were trying to pinpoint where the sound was coming from. Ominis relaxed slightly, relieved that he wasn’t the only one hearing the incessant hissing. 
His relaxed posture only lasted for a moment as a voice suddenly cut through all the noise, low and dangerous like a rattlesnake's tail in the tall grass. It was similar to the snake he had been hearing, but different somehow— richer, more human sounding. Ominis’ heart stilled in his chest when he recognized the cadence, knowing it intimately from all the times he spoke it while living at home. Parseltongue. 
“Be quiet. Everything is fine, no one is going to hurt us.�� 
At once, the hissing stopped, shrouding the room in a blanket of silence once again. Dread began to curl its way around Ominis’ chest at the understanding of what that meant— what that could mean for the future of Hogwarts in general. 
Someone in the room was a parselmouth like him, and he would bet all of his galleons on it being the new girl. 
But, what did she mean by “no one is going to hurt us?” Who was “us?”
The professor continued her lecture, drowning the never ending list of questions permeating in his mind that seemed to grow longer by the second. 
“Gorgons are the children of Phorcys, a primordial sea god, and Ceto, a sea goddess, who happen to be brother and sister.” 
A snicker came from the back of the classroom, followed by the voice of none other than Andrew Larson, the class’ resident moonmind. “Purebloods know all about that!” 
Hecat leveled him with a glare, not an ounce of amusement present in her tone as she spoke. “Must you make that joke whenever we talk about Greek history? I dare say it wasn’t funny the first handful of times you’ve said it, Mister Larson.” 
Ominis could almost see the embarrassment on Larson’s face when he stuttered his reply. “Um, n-no, professor. I j-just meant—”
“We all know what you meant.” She silenced him quickly, her smirk present in her voice. “Now, back to what I was saying. Phorcys and Ceto had a large family together, including the Graeae, the trio of elderly sisters that share an eye, Echidna, a being of half-human, half-snake, Ladon, a fearsome dragon who was tasked with guarding the golden apples of the Hesperides, and Scylla, a woman with dog-headed loins. Because of Ceto’s reputation for giving birth to terrors, each larger and more colorful than the last, she became known as the “mother of sea-monsters.” Ominis could feel Hecat’s eyes linger on him for a moment, her speech stilling slightly as she took in his deeply puzzled expression. “Of course, among those children were also the Gorgons.” 
The aging professor continued, her steps ebbing and flowing around the classroom like a steady stream. “According to myth, Medusa did not begin life as a Gorgon. She was Ceto’s only mortal born child— human as any other babe. Some even say she may have been of magical nature, like all of you in this very room.” 
The blond slytherin heard Hecat’s steps falter for a moment, the soft swish of her hand running along a desk off to his right. He craned his ears in the direction, his wand picking up the movement as he tried to discern the student that the former Unspeakable was paying special attention to. The silhouette of a girl filled his mindseye, her form slumping down slightly in her desk as she tugged lightly on the scarf wrapped around her head. Ominis’ frown stretched deeper across his face at the realization that the professor was checking on the new girl, again. What was so special about her? Why was everyone so enraptured by her presence? She didn’t seem all that remarkable when in the school building at least. She was just mysterious. He was mysterious at first, but the fascination with him soon dwindled as his peers realized he was the same as everyone else. 
So, the slytherin pondered, why was she still the talk of the halls? 
Why was Hecat teaching this lesson?
Why was it important for a group of pubescent teenagers to know about something that existed across the ocean from them?
Ominis had more questions than answers, and each one confounded him more and more by the second.
“Medusa was a devout follower of Athena, the goddess of wisdom, handicraft, and war. One night, while praying to her goddess, she captured the attention of Athena’s brother, Poseidon. He appeared to her, intent on taking what he believed should be ‘his.’” Hecat paused, her stony gaze sweeping across the classroom as if challenging anyone to so much as breathe too loud. “He took her there, in the temple, leaving her on the floor as she sobbed and prayed to her goddess for forgiveness.” 
Ominis could cut the tension coating the air of the room like a thick, viscous fog with a knife. No one dared make a sound, enraptured by the words of their wise mentor.
“Some myths say that Athena took pity on the girl and transformed her into something that no man could ever gaze on again. Some say she punished her for leading a man into her sacred temple and letting him defile it. No one knows the true story except those who were there, and the old gods have long since left our realm for their own paradise on Olympus.” 
The apprehension screaming in every magical mind surrounding the dearly loved, and feared, elder was palpable in the tiny class space. 
“Now, some of you may be wondering why I teach this lesson.” As if reading his mind, Ominis felt Hecat level him with a stare that burned hotter than even the most blistering fire poker. “The answer, of course, is that no one knows what happened to the child of Medusa and Poseidon.”
The young Gaunt felt all the air get sucked from his lungs as if a dementor escaped from Azkaban just to find him specifically. A child of a god and a witch? It was unheard of— it was disastrous. Their magic would be unstoppable; nothing in their world would ever match the power of a child brimming with that much otherworldly energy. Whether they used their powers for good or evil, or even some mix of the two, they would be legendary all the same. At that moment, a thought came to Ominis. Would they also be part Gorgon? If Medusa was transformed while with child, who's to say that the babe would not share the same affliction. 
As suddenly as a strike of lightning, or a downpour in April, Ominis Gaunt answered the question that had been on his mind since the start of term.
  The new girl was a Gorgon. 
How had he not realized before? The snakes that were always around when she was— how her head and eyes were always covered— how no one knew where she hailed from and had no hint other than the fact that her accent was vaguely Greecian? It was right in front of his blind eyes from the beginning; he was just too much of a jealous fool to see it. 
Just then the bell chimed across the campus, signaling the impending class change. Professor Hecat’s voice broke through the bustle of his peers standing and gathering their things in preparation for their trek to their next lesson. 
“We will continue our discussion on mythos and magic next week. Please remember to study for the upcoming OWLs! They are written and practical, so be sure to practice the physical spells as well as memorize the theory!” 
Ominis scrambled to gather his things, determined to catch the new girl before she disappeared into the crowd. Dodging around a loitering Sebastian— the brunette’s hand raised as if gearing to make some idiotic, yet somehow still brilliant, point— he all but sprinted into the congested hallway. His wand waved in front of him as he scanned each person he passed, his ears tuned to any noise that sounded vaguely serpentine in the hopes that her reptilian tresses would sound out as they always did this close to lunch time. Alas, they were as silent as a dead rodent in a viper pit. 
Just then, the young boy caught sight of the girl, her silhouette moving ferociously  among the masses as if she would rather be anywhere but there. Underneath all his confusion, morbid curiosity, and pulsating anger at how she has been endangering, and possibly enchanting, his best friend, Ominis felt a pang of pity. He didn’t blame her one bit for wanting to leave as quickly as possible— not at all. He knew all too well how it felt to have all eyes burning through his skin at every turn, even if no one else seemed to figure out her secret other than him. He couldn’t let her escape, though; he needed answers, he needed closure. Halting in his tracks, he racked his mind for what he could do to get her attention. She wouldn’t hear him call her name in the ruckus around them, nor could he keep up with her brusk pace. There was really only one option to choose, and as much as he hated to do it, snakes had an incredible sense of hearing, or rather, in their case, an excellent sense for vibrations. 
His voice flowed from his lips in a strong hiss, the air seeming to break just for the words to slither their way to their target like a bush adder in a pile of leaves. “I know what you are.” 
Ominis could hear her pulse quicken as she stilled. Everything else in the cramped space fell away, leaving just the two slytherin’s, each one with their own morose history that has been broadcasted for all the world to hear. Two peas in a pod— two sides to the same coin— two scales on the same snake. 
Her “pets” were startlingly silent as her hung head raised from its slumped position against her chest, her sigh heaving her shoulders into proper posture— a constrictor poised to strangle. 
The boy felt her words before he heard them— the air stilling around him like a world born anew. 
“I suppose it’s my turn to explain things, then.”
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AN:
Shes baaaaaacccckkkkkkk :)
***
like what you read? here's more!
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accio-bagel · 5 months ago
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HL characters as text posts
(part 1)
Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4
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qualiryy · 1 year ago
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📚📖📜
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undergaunts · 7 months ago
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A Long Time Coming
Sebastian Sallow x Reader
Summary: aka three times Sebastian is a flirt, one time he gets called out on it, and one time he finally does something about it.
Rating: Teen & up (very light suggestive moment but nothing extreme)
Word count: 5.4k
Read on AO3 or below the cut <3
I.
The Library is almost silent - unusually quiet for a Wednesday afternoon. Only the subtle sound of a ticking clock, and the occasional turn of a page breaks through the quiet. Somewhere amongst the bookshelves, Madam Scribner is ensuring the books are in the correct places, and a couple of first years had run off, upstairs undoubtedly, in an attempt to find a book that doesn’t exist, tricked by second years into believing it does.
In the centre of the room, seated at a wooden bench, heads buried in their homework, were the Slytherin trio, who these days seemed to never leave each others sides.
She’s focused on writing what seems to be a remarkably boring essay for Potions, hair tucked behind her ears as she scribbles away, quill rough against the parchment, cursive writing adorning the tanned sheet.
Ominis is tracing the shapes of words in his book with his finger, frowning every so often when he comes across something so ridiculous that he wonders if throwing it across the room would help him understand it more.
And Sebastian is - well, Sebastian has decidedly given up, doodling various patterns into the margins of his Herbology book. Only when his quill runs out of ink does he groan, rather too loudly, dropping his head onto the page in frustration.
“I’m bored,” he informs his friends, and Ominis immediately shushes him. “Sorry, but this is so boring!”
“I don’t care if you are bored,” Ominis almost hisses, his milky eyes searching in Sebastian’s direction, finger never once leaving the page of his book. “We are busy. I’m sure there’s something for you to do elsewhere.”
Sebastian has been used to Ominis’, what he would call ‘soft rage’ for a long time (he often gets angry at varying things, but he’d never do anything physical about it), but he still flinches a little, lifting his head from the book, before turning his focus to the girl next to him.
She’s still writing, evidently not as bothered by Sebastian as Ominis is. He watches her for a minute or so, marvelling at how quickly she glides the quill across the paper, brows furrowed in concentration.
“I can feel your eyes burning a hole into my skin, Sebastian,” she whispers, momentarily glancing at him, before continuing to write.
He smiles, still watching, as she finally comes to the end of the page, and, thankfully, the end of her essay.
She places the quill down, quickly scanning over the parchment for any mistakes, before pushing it to the side to dry. She lets out a long, deep breath, stretching her neck from side to side, and flexes her hands, shaking out the stress and the aches from the day.
She’s got small hands, Sebastian thinks, even Anne’s hands are bigger than hers.
“My hands aren’t small,” she frowns at him - Ominis shoots them an angered look - and Sebastian realises his thoughts were not contained in his head, but actually said out loud. He’d blame it on his tiredness from studying, but he hadn’t really been studying. He was just an idiot.
“Well,” he straightens his back, coughing a little in an attempt to cover up for the light blush covering his freckled cheeks. “I just mean…no, you do have small hands.”
She scoffs. “They’re not small. They can’t be that much smaller than yours or Ominis’.”
“Ominis’ hands are freakishly large,” Sebastian retorts. It is not entirely true - Ominis’ fingers are long and slender, making them seem a lot bigger than they are, but they’re not freakish. Just a tad strange.
Ominis rolls his eyes, then uses one of those hands to cover an ear so he can continue to read.
“Then they are not much smaller than yours.”
Sebastian raises an eyebrow, then a hand, palm pointing towards her. “Look. My hands are big,” he says, proudly. “Compare yours to mine.”
She lifts her hand, pressing her palm against his in a quick motion, fingers splaying to rest against his. He can feel the pink on his cheeks spreading further and deepening in colour, so he coughs again.
“Oh,” she laughs. It’s rather obvious - the size difference. Sebastian’s hands are bigger. Not hugely - not in a weird way like Ominis’! - but definitely. He could cover her hand with his, easily. Her fingers could interlock with his, rather comfortably.
“I told you, did I not?” Sebastian smiles. He’s glad he was right, and takes joy in proving her wrong - possibly for the first time.
“You did,” she sighs, dropping her hand from his. “You are correct, Sebastian Sallow. For once.”
He’s grinning, oh so proud, and she laughs at him, shaking her head. “Let me just,” he says, grabbing her wrist and pressing her hand against his again, confirming what they already knew. He’d never deny he was a gloater. “You see this, Ominis?”
Across the table, Ominis is glaring, fires almost burning through the white snow of his eyes.
“No, of course I don’t see.” Ominis responds, and this time, the entirety of Sebastian’s face turns bright red.
II.
Sebastian has been watching the door all evening. First, it was the Undercroft gate, then the Slytherin common room door, and now the Great Hall. None of the doors had opened, to reveal the girl he was waiting to see.
Damned doors, and their constant closure.
She’d been gone all day, from the very moment the sun had started to rise, til now, as it was setting. She was undoubtedly doing some good deed for someone she’d never met before, in a hamlet she’d never been to casting spells she’d hardly practised.
Curse her, and her kindness.
Sebastian had had the brilliant idea to save her a portion of the roast dinner they’d been served, but it was getting cold now, and he was getting increasingly worried as the minutes went by. Had she been eaten by an Acromantula? Kidnapped by poachers? Mauled by a pack of dark mongrels?
“I can feel your worry from over here,” Ominis says. He’s sitting across from Sebastian, putting his last pieces of potato into his mouth. “It’s souring my supper.”
“Sorry,” Sebastian responds. He’s not really sorry, but he prefers to sate Ominis’ frustration. “She’s been gone since this morning. She’s usually not gone for more than a few hours at a time.”
“But she is often gone for a long time,” Ominis places his knife and fork, parallel in the centre of his plate, before picking his napkin up to wipe his mouth. “She is the hero of Hogwarts, after all. And a rather busy hero at that.”
Almost as if to cut them off, the dirty plates and empty trays of food suddenly disappear, and then reappear, replaced by dishes of apple pie, sticky toffee pudding and custard. Most of the students hurriedly scramble for their dessert - it’s always the most popular part of the meal.
Sebastian quickly reaches for a portion of the sticky toffee pudding, which is snatched away by Imelda with a sneer. He shoots her daggers, before quickly grabbing another portion, this time successfully. He tries to grab another - to set it aside for his friend when she finally gets back - but it is taken by a third year, before he could even start to reach.
With a wave of his wand, Ominis manages to grab himself a portion of pie, before every plate of dessert has been spoken for.
Sebastian huffs, realising she now only has a cold plate of roast dinner to come back to.
If she ever does.
He returns to the previous conversation, a frown on his face.
“No, she…she should’ve been back by now, she should be-“
It is, at that moment, ironically, that the large doors to the Great Hall open, and she walks through them, perfectly alive. A little windswept, to be sure, a slight rip at the bottom of her skirt, and a tiny cut on her lower lip. But alive.
Sebastian stands up. She spots him in the crowd of people, and immediately smiles, running over to squeeze herself into the spot on the bench next to him.
He can feel his heart go from aching, to relief, to almost beating out of his chest within seconds.
“What a day!” She laughs, sighing as she sits down, Sebastian soon following her. There’s a small smile pulling at Ominis’ lips, and Sebastian allows himself to smile too.
“Sebastian was rather worried about you,” Ominis says, and in that moment, Sebastian wonders, if he leapt across the table, would his hands accurately find Ominis’ neck so he could choke him?
“Only Sebastian?” She asks, and Ominis, this time, smiles a little wider, a slight glint of white teeth showing past his lips
“I was worried too, I am not afraid to admit. But he wouldn’t stop worrying aloud,” Ominis brings a spoon of his pie to his mouth. “It was rather irritating.”
“Oh,” she laughs, side-eyeing Sebastian, who blushes (annoyingly, he’s been blushing far too much lately). He nudges her, in a ‘please-redirect-your-attention-away-from-my-red-face’ kind of way, pointing her to the dinner he’d saved her.
“It’s a bit cold but…”
“Oh marvellous!” She grins, pulling the plate toward her and grabbing a fork, which she stabs into a piece of carrot. “I’ve not eaten all day!”
In the least weird way he can possibly muster (which is still extremely weird, he must admit), he watches her eat, enjoying that she is enjoying her food, glad she is safe and sound. He sighs, softly, allowing himself to relax before taking his spoon and slowly starting to eat his dessert.
Once she finishes her food (which doesn’t take her all that long to eat, clearly hungry from an exhausting day, she takes a long drink of the glass of lemonade that had poured itself for her, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand.
She takes a moment to breathe, pushing a piece of hair out of her face. Sebastian sees her look around a little, at the other students still picking away at their puddings.
“I did try to save you a portion,” Sebastian says, and she looks at him, shaking her head.
“It’s alright. I was very late. And some people,” she glares across the room at Leander, who has two plates of desserts in front of him, alternating bites between the two. “Always take too much.”
But he can see it in her face. She’s a little disappointed. It’s only a silly thing; a dessert, for Merlin’s sake, but he feels guilty.
So he drops his spoon, and slides the rest of his pudding to her. “Here. Have mine.”
She rolls her eyes at him, and pushes it back. “Honestly, you’ve done enough, Sebastian. I could’ve not eaten at all.”
He pushes it back to her. “Please.”
Again, she slides it. “No.”
“I’m not arguing,” Sebastian again pushes the bowl, and holds it there, picking the spoon up and offering it to her. “Just have it. It’ll make me happy.”
“Sebastian-“
“Merlin’s beard,” Ominis mutters. “Just eat the damned pudding, would you? Or I think he might explode.”
She laughs. Sebastian laughs. Ominis glares. Just the way it should be.
Thank the Gods she’s fine.
III.
The weekend Sebastian had spent in Feldcroft was lovely. Perfect, even. Spending time with Anne was rare these days, so to be with her, uninterrupted for forty-eight straight hours was joyous. He really did miss her.
Yet, returning to Hogwarts didn’t make him feel sad. He actually felt excited, for the first time in a long time, to get back. He couldn’t quite put his finger on why, but he just knew, as he entered the school grounds, that the butterflies in his stomach weren’t just for his return to Transfiguration class.
As he walked the school, he realised he’d missed supper, it seemed, from the hordes of students gathered throughout the corridors near the Great Hall.
Sebastian desperately tried to find a familiar face (or at least one he wanted to see - Leander and Gareth were easily seen with their red heads, but he didn’t fancy talking to Idiot One or Idiot Two).
It took a little while of searching, before he found a group gathered in a more secluded area. He noted Natsai, Poppy, Amit, Ominis, and her.
Sebastian grinned. He hadn’t noticed the smile creeping onto his face at all really. He simply let his feet do the walking, striding over to his friends, and without warning, snaking his arms around her waist and pulling her into a bear hug from behind.
“Oh!” She jumped, but laughed almost immediately, as if she knew it was him just from his touch.
Surely not.
“Hi,” Sebastian smiles, pulling her close to him, resting his chin in the dip of her shoulder, and looking at the group in front of him. “Hi guys.”
For a moment, they all look stunned. Weird, Sebastian thinks, perhaps they didn’t expect me back so soon
“Hello Sebastian,” Natty is the first to speak, breaking what was starting to feel like an awkward silence. “We had just been speaking about you.”
“Oh?” Sebastian raises an eyebrow, glancing between each persons face, all looking a different level of uncomfortable
“We were just discussing how we think you should-“ Poppy starts to say.
“We,” she chimes in, her hands tugging at Sebastian’s arm, pulling him off of her. He’d be offended, but she quickly redirects him, pulling his arm around her shoulders, and tucking him into her side. He feels her arm wrap around his waist, and decides this is possibly better. “We’re thinking you should spend more weekends in Feldcroft.”
“Ah, dying to get rid of me?”
“Always,” she smiles. Sebastian has a hard time tearing his eyes away, wondering how she often looks like she’s glowing. Like sun is emanating from her very soul. It’s addictive.
“We should probably return to our common rooms and rest for a bright and early start in the morning!” Amit chimes in, and Natty and Poppy nod, agreeing.
“Alright,” Sebastian shrugs. He notices Natty tilt her head a little, and before he knows it, his arm is being pushed away, and his side is left cold and empty.
“We’re just trying to work out a charm,” she says, stepping over to Natty. “I’ll see you two in the common room a little later?” She gestures to Sebastian and Ominis.
“Of course,” Ominis finally speaks up. The group disperses, and Sebastian finds himself having to jog to catch up to Ominis, who seems like a man on a mission to get to bed.
“Wait!” Sebastian finds himself laughing as he finally catches up to his best friend. Ominis huffs, which causes Sebastian to reach out, grabbing his arm and stopping him mid stride. “Is something wrong?”
“With me? Oh, no. But I do believe something is wrong with you, Sebastian,” Ominis shakes his head. His brows are furrowed, almost angry, yet he seems more frustrated than anything. “It is almost aggravating. I cannot understand how you are yet to see the issue at hand.”
He’s speaking in riddles, Sebastian is sure of it. The blond was always one to be mysterious, but this is taking it to whole other level.
Sebastian doesn’t respond, which, in itself, is clearly a response enough for Ominis, who turns on his heel, and with a small flick of his wand, is on his way, leaving Sebastian standing in the hallway to ponder whatever in Merlin’s name is going on
IV.
“Sebastian!”
His head whips around, trying to see who or what called his name, but there’s a few too many people outside the Bell Tower to actually see. He stands on the tips of his toes, before he finally sees the culprit - Poppy, who is heading towards him, determination on her face and…a Slytherin scarf in hand?
He frowns - his scarf is definitely back in the dorm, and it’s rare for Ominis to wear his anyway, so…
“Could you-“ Poppy starts.
“Is that-“ Sebastian questions.
“She left it in Beasts class earlier,” Poppy confirms. She’s come to a stop in front of Sebastian, and hands him the scarf, which he takes, gladly. “Could you return it to her? I’m afraid she’ll get cold without it.”
“No problem,” Sebastian nods, and Poppy smiles. She thanks him quickly, before scurrying off. Poppy was weird, always had been, really, but Sebastian guessed they were friends by association, so tried not to judge too much.
He’s left, standing there, holding a scarf. Her scarf. It’s strange, but for a moment he doesn’t know what to do. It’s like his legs won’t move, too focused on this object in his left hand.
He can’t quite understand why.
But luckily he shakes it off, and starts to head for the Slytherin common room. Poppy was right, she might get cold without her scarf. She’s got more, yes, but…well, she probably preferred this one. It’s certainly keeping his hand warm, so it probably good at keeping her warm, and…
It feels like he’s been walking for hours. He’s got a death grip on the scarf, like he couldn’t it bear the thought of dropping it. Losing it. Damaging it. He could buy her a new one if he did. But it wouldn’t be the same, would it? It wouldn’t be hers, it wouldn’t have her name written in ink on the inside, it wouldn’t smell like her…
Before he even knows it, he’s standing in his dorm room, back pressed against the door, keeping it closed. The room is empty, thank the Gods, because he’s still holding the scarf. He can see his, dangling over the end of his bed, and it might seem weird if he had two.
His breathlessness and warm face and open mouth might also be weird.
He steps away from the door, certain it’s closed, then moved toward his bed, where he sits down at the edge, eyes desperately trying to avoid the scarf, but he just can’t do it. He wets his lips, nervous, double, triple checking the room, ensuring no one is there once again.
And, finally, he lifts the scarf to his nose, and inhales deeply.
It smells just like her. Of course it does, it’s hers, but it’s unmistakably so. The scent of lavender and honey, probably from the soap she uses. A little of mallowsweet, and fresh air. It’s intoxicating, and he can’t bring himself to put it down. Even if he suffocates in the wool, it would be a wonderful way to die.
There’s a feeling, that starts in his stomach, that he’s trying so hard to ignore, but it’s getting lower and lower, and his head is spinning. He inhales again, and his eyes roll back a little. His breath hitches in his throat, and he can’t stop himself, he moves his right hand, over the side of his thigh, straight towards-
“What are you doing?”
Sebastian’s head whips round to the door, where Ominis is standing, deadly still, wand in hand, staring straight at him. Surely not? He surely can’t see, can he? No, what a ridiculous notion. He can’t see what Sebastian is doing.
Hopefully he can’t see what Sebastian is doing.
He realises he’s said nothing for an awfully long time, and stutters over his words as he tries to get a coherent sentence out.
“I-I, uh, was just,” he glances around himself, trying to find another object - anything but the scarf - to use as a distraction. His eyes settle on a spell book, he’d left next to his bed. He drops the scarf onto the bed next to him, and quickly reaches for the book. “I w-was reading! Homework, you know.”
“No,” Ominis flicks his wand, ever so slightly, the tip glowing read, as he steps over to Sebastian. “I heard you. You were…smelling something. In a very…odd fashion.”
“N-no,” Sebastian counters. “I…wasn’t.”
Great, that’ll show him!
Ominis scoffs. “What were you-“ he waves his wand again, and the scarf suddenly levitates, floating through the air and landing in Ominis’ hand. Damn him, and his stupidly intelligent wand. “Is this-“
“Ominis-“
“It’s her scarf. Was this what you were smelling? It must be.”
Sebastian shuts his mouth. The two of them are quiet for a moment. Ominis just standing there, and Sebastian sitting, feeling increasingly guilty.
“Don’t tell her.”
Ominis frowns a little. “Tell her what?”
“That I was…doing that.”
“I will not tell her,” Ominis says. Sebastian feels relief for a moment, but then Ominis speaks again. “You will.”
“What?” Sebastian squeaks. His voice has never been that high-pitched before. He’d be embarrassed if he wasn’t in this situation.
“Are you a fool, Sebastian Sallow?” This time, Sebastian is the one to frown. That wasn’t what he was expecting Ominis to say. Admittedly, he was expecting some extortion, maybe a promise of some kind, but not an insult. “You must be the only wizard alive unaware of your feelings for her.”
He’s suddenly taken aback. He tries to form words, but quickly gives up. His mind is racing, trying to comprehend what Ominis had just said to him.
Because, Merlin’s beard, was he right?
Surely not. She was his best friend. They had fun, broke rules together. They spent hours at Hogsmeade together. They studied together. They visited Anne together. They…they did everything together. Because he couldn’t bear not doing things together.
And of the times she wasn’t there, he just thought about her, wishing she was there. He hadn’t had a class with her since that morning, and all day he’d thought about getting back to the common room and seeing her.
Then there was the butterflies he got when he saw her. How beautiful he thought she was. How he’d often find an excuse to touch her. How he’d look for her in crowds. How he just never stopped thinking about her, because…
Because he had feelings for her.
“Merlin,” Sebastian mutters, the realisation hitting him like a tonne of bricks. It’s all he can say, because how had he not seen it sooner? It was glaringly obvious, and if Ominis was correct, was he the only one who hadn’t realised?
“It’s taken you far too long to realise,” Ominis sits down on the bed, a few inches from Sebastian, placing the scarf in between them. “We’ve been talking about this for weeks.”
“You’ve been talking about me?”
“We’ve been talking about how painfully clear your feelings are, and how idiotic that you have not said or done anything about it sooner.”
“Who is ‘we’?”
Ominis pauses, contemplating whether he should say or not. But everything is out in the open, so why not?
“The usual suspects. Myself, Poppy, Amit, Natsai,” Sebastian nods, and starts to speak, but Ominis continues. “Gareth, Leander, Imelda, I believe Everett knows as well. Possibly some others.”
“Gods,” Sebastian sighs. He’s half tempted to laugh, but he’s still too shocked. “Does she know?”
Ominis blinks. He squeezes his lips together in thought, and then nods his head. “She took some convincing - couldn’t quite believe you’d ever feel that way for her, and I’m still half-convinced she isn’t entirely sure.”
“And does she-“
“She has feelings for you too. Of course she does. Don’t continue to be foolish, Sebastian. Would she let you carry on the way you do, if she didn’t? I certainly wouldn’t.”
Sebastian laughs - a sudden, chesty laugh at the sheer ridiculousness of it all, which in turn makes Ominis laugh - a rare sight.
“Am I truly that oblivious?” Sebastian asks through his laughter. “I mean, I’ve never felt like this before, so I just assumed it would be clear when I liked someone.”
“Not everything is clear,” Ominis reassures him, then, “But you are simply an idiot.”
The two of them laugh again. Sebastian looks at the scarf next to him, before sighing loudly.
“I’m going to have to tell her, aren’t I?”
There’s a gentle touch on his shoulder. Ominis nods (he’s not one for touching others, but he clearly feels Sebastian needs reassuring). “And sooner rather than later, hm? We’re all dying to see the two of you together.”
V.
He’s been avoiding her, like she was the Black Death, and he curses himself for doing so. He’d managed to return her scarf (thankfully, because he was certain he’d do something he’d regret if he didn’t), but for the rest of the week that was it. He’d eaten early, returned to his dorm early, pretended to be engrossed in conversations during classes and very busy after them.
It wasn’t that he didn’t want to see her. Quite the opposite, in fact, but he was still trying to wrap his head around the whole thing, and come up with a beautiful string of words that would explain how madly in love with her he was, and why exactly she should be with him.
And it was proving to be a lot more difficult than expected.
Ominis, may the Gods bless him, had agreed to keep their conversation a secret - at least for the time being. Sebastian was sure that the others had noticed that something was up, though, as they seemed much more concerned about him than they usually did. But he didn’t allow himself to be perceived by them for too long. He would dodge conversation, and keep to himself. Every waking moment seemed to be consumed by thinking of how exactly he would confess.
Ominis had said she felt the same, but was he sure? He’d said he was sure, yes, but was he truly sure? Sebastian was not sure, about any of it. He also wasn’t sure that sure was a real word anymore
The following Friday, he’d been invited to Hogsmeade for Butterbeers, but made a big fuss of how much homework he had to do. It was true, he did have a lot of homework, but his mind was not on that now.
Instead, taking advantage of a mostly empty common room, as most students had headed out for the evening, he sat himself in front of the fireplace, legs stretched outward, arms crossed against his chest. It would be the perfect opportunity to just think. Staring into the fire, he hoped an answer would appear. And he stared, for a long time, trying to decipher something in the flames.
“Sebastian?”
He almost jumps out of his skin, scrambling a little to sit up straighter. Because there she is, standing beside him, a gentle smile on her face.
“Hi,” he looks up at her. She looks extra pretty this evening, he thinks. Hair pulled back with just a few pieces framing her face, a gorgeous, flowing teal dress framing her figure perfectly. “I thought everyone was heading to Hogsmeade?”
“We were,” she says. She sounds sad, as she sits down on the armchair next to him. “But then Ominis said you weren’t coming, so I came back.”
There’s a flutter in his stomach, and a little voice in his head, that says see, she does like you.
But he can’t let her spoil her fun, and most definitely not for him
“Go,” he tilts his head towards the stairs. “I’m sure you can catch up with them. I’m quite alright on my own.”
He watches her glance over to the stairs, and ponder for a moment, before she shakes her head. “You’ve hardly spoken to anyone all week. I’d rather know you’re well and not moping about alone.”
“Not moping,” he chuckles. “Just…been thinking.”
She studies him for a second, then places her elbow on the arm of the chair, and rests her chin in her hand. “A knut for your thoughts?”
Sebastian turns his attention back to the fire. It eats away at the logs, just like his thoughts had been eating away at him. Ominis’ words ring in his ears: She has feelings for you too. Of course she does.
He tries to form some words. But they still evade him. Still run from his tongue and his mind, teasing him with the very possibility of being with her, yet being unable to, due to the annoying fact that he just cannot speak.
Her voice is almost a whisper, but he can see the way her face crumples a little. “Have I done something to upset you?”
“Hey, no,” he says. “I’ve just been…in my own head, that’s all. You’ve done nothing wrong.”
She nods, but looks like she doesn’t quite believe him. She joins him in looking at the fire, and they sit in silence for a few moments.
He steals a glance at her, and she looks like she wants to speak, but she’s holding back. Their silences are not often awkward, but there’s a tension in the air, and he wants to cure it, somehow.
It’s only when he decides he must say something, that she clears her throat, and stands up from her chair.
“I’ll let you get back to your thoughts,” she smiles ever-so-slightly at him. It’s half-hearted and almost makes him wince. “Good night, Sebastian.”
He’ll see her in the morning. She’ll go to bed, as will he, and he’ll see her over breakfast, or catch her in the hallway.
He’ll see her, so why do his feet carry him, following her, as if he won’t?
“Wait,” he says, only a step behind her. They’ve stopped in the middle of the common room, looking each other, her body in an awkward half-turn, from where she’d been leaving. “I think I should probably tell you my thoughts.”
She frowns. “You should?”
“Yes,” he confirms. “It’s been plaguing me all week. And I’ve been putting it off but-“ a deep breath. “I should probably get it off my chest.”
She looks beautiful in the shimmering moonlight and rippling waves of the common room. He traces her with his eyes, taking her in. If he hadn’t been certain about how he felt up, he most definitely was now.
But he had been certain. It had just taken a while for him to see it.
“Look, I,” he starts, eyes dropping to the floor. This time, without realising, he lets his heart do the talking. He doesn’t hope his brain will find the words, instead he lets all of his heart and soul spill from his mouth. “I haven’t told you the truth. Mostly because I didn’t know the truth, until quite recently, and it seems everyone but I knew. But now that I do know, and I’m entirely sure it is the truth…”
She’s frowning. So is he, a little. He’s not really making sense, so he tries again.
“All my life, I assumed love - I mean, having feelings for someone - would be obvious, glaring, and heart wrenching. I never realised it could be subtle, or slow, or easy. I also was never sure I’d actually find it. I thought I’d be waiting my whole life, if ever, to find it. It’s why I didn’t realise, for a long time, until now, that…I have feelings,” he pauses, then clarifies. “For you, I mean.”
She looks shocked. Her eyes wide, mouth open, trying to search him for some kind of proof he’s just jesting. Just toying with her emotions.
But he’s not. He’s not one to cry, but his eyes well a little. He wants to step forward, to envelop her into a hug, to hold her in his arms, finally, in the way he’s always wanted.
“Are you,” she eventually speaks. “Are you quite serious?”
He can’t help but laugh. Her brows knit together, concerned at his joking manner.
“More than serious,” he confirms. “Deadly.”
She gasps, very softly. It is her that steps forward, closing the large gap between them. Only a few inches apart. So close he could reach for her, if he wanted.
So he does.
He reaches for her hand - which are just the right size for his, as he’d previously confirmed - and brings it closer to him, squeezing it gently.
“Sebastian,” her bottom lip quivers. “I also,” she pauses, to find her words. “Feel…feelings. For you.”
Their eyes lock. He doesn’t think he’s seen eyes as pretty as hers. Merlin, he doesn’t think he’s seen anyone as pretty as her. And here she is, standing in front of him, hand in his and heart open, ready for him to take care of it.
It’s almost silent, aside from the crackle of the fire and the patter of their hearts.
Sebastian does not think he can take this longing for one more second, so does what he has always wanted to.
He kisses her, and in that moment, finds all he has ever wanted.
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nairaday · 1 month ago
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The way the lyrics of the song represent Ominis so well.. I'm crying for already an hour.
Artist : bloodvic
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"…And wonder what I did to deserve this?
How could you hurt a little kid?
I can't forget, I can't forgive you.
'Cause now I'm scared that everyone I love will leave me…"
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"…Oh, all that I did to try to undo it
All of my pain and all your excuses
I was a kid but I wasn't clueless
(Someone who loves you wouldn't do this)
All of my past, I tried to erase it
But now I see, would I even change it?
Might share a face and share a last name, but
(We are not the same)…"
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