Work Text
September, 4th year
“Bollocks!”
You had just been leaving the main greenhouse after asking Professor Garlick a question about your chinese chomping cabbages when a curse came from your left. It was common to find you in that spot as of late, especially with the freshness of the autumn air nipping at the skin of your nose and cheeks. It was a beautiful day by all possible accounts in your book— the sun was softly burning down through the teal painted glass above your head and the leaves were just beginning to twinge the slightest shade of orange. The soft breeze that spun around the tiny outdoor space was a secret comfort to you, and you often spent time there reading under one of the many flowering trees that lined the pavement. As you strolled to your favorite spot under the giant tree at the center of the courtyard, you pondered over what the professor said about your precious foliage— deep in thought about the concerning brown spots decorating the leaves of your tiny, but ferocious, cabbage. You nearly lept out of your skin at the sound of the loud swear coming from the other side of the space, your heart picking up exponentially as you whipped your head in the direction of the voice, trying to see who the person was. By all accounts, it looked like you were alone among the plants, until the ripple of the pond just behind the buildings caught your eye.
Creeping carefully down the stairs and around the bend of the largest green emporium, you scan your eyes around the circled fish pond under the large weeping willow. You almost didn’t see them at first with how their clothing blended in with the grass, but at the farthest corner from you was a student— a boy, you realized, not much older than you from what you could tell. The green and silver adorning his house robe glittered in the leaf shaped sunbeams, making the silken hem look like scales on a garden snake. He was carefully leaning towards the waters edge, his blond hair catching the reflection from the water below and making it look like the shifting glass of the painted murals in the Defence Against the Dark Arts hallway— your mind brought forth a particular comparison between the large sea serpent tryptic and the way the soft sage green of the water melded with his flaxen locks. You edged closer to the boy, moving around the bend as quietly as you could as to not disturb him. Seeing him more clearly now, you noticed that his fingers were gripping tightly to the edge of the pool, his knuckles turning a, somehow paler, shade of his skin tone with anxious strength— one wrong move and he would be drenched and spitting out algae. He seemed to be mumbling to himself, the hiss of curses spilling from his clenched teeth as he desperately searched for something under the surface, whipping his head to and fro like he couldn’t see through the murky depths. You decided to make yourself known, letting your last few steps ring out in the space as you cleared your throat.
“Are you alright?” You asked the stressed stranger. “Do you need some help?”
He startled at the sound of your voice, his body jumping slightly and his head tipping precariously closer to the watery surface, before taking a deep breath through his nose and replying.
“No, thank you. I am quite capable of handling this myself.” His voice was clipped, irritation prevalent in each word.
You paused in your steps, confused at the hostility of the strange boy. You were just trying to help him, what was his issue? Your brows twitched in curiosity, hesitantly making your way closer again as you reached out a hand.
“Are you sure? You’ve been out here for some time—”
His icy tone cut you off. “Thank you for the astute observation. Now if you wouldn’t mind
leaving me alone,
I would greatly appreciate it.”
Your hand retreated, shoulders straightening at being chastised like a petulant child. Why was he being so rude? You were just trying to help. It wasn’t like you insulted him.
You cleared your throat again, your words choking against the embarrassment lodged in your throat. “My apologies— I meant no offense. I’ll leave you to it.”
Your feet swished against the ground as you turned to take your leave, proverbial tail tucked between your legs from the verbal onslaught by the blond Slytherin, when a sigh stopped you. The boy adjusted his stance, leaning up to kneel on the ground and run a hand over his face and through his hair, dislodging the swoop tucking the strands into their neat style. From him came another sigh, heavy and full of regret, before turning his cheek in your direction to speak to you more directly.
“No, don’t go, it’s me who should apologize. I shouldn’t take my anger out on you— you’re just being nice. A trait that this school seems to be lacking sometimes.”
His hand was outstretched towards you, like you had originally done to him, his fingers twitching and hesitant like he meant to grab onto yours before you could disappear. You moved closer again as he hung his head, his chin nearly touching his chest. The tiniest bit of color could be caught on his alabaster cheek.
He let his hand fall again, his fingers curling into a tense fist at his side. “I’m not one to normally accept help from others, but in this instance I could use some assistance if the offer is still available.”
You stopped next to him, keeping a respectful distance between you both. Seeing your approach, he raised to his feet, turning towards where you were.
“What do you mean you ‘normally don’t accept help’— oh.” You raised your eyes from the ground, “meeting” his gaze for the first time. That being said, there wasn’t really any gaze to be met. He was
blind.
“Yes,” he sighed.
“Oh.”
You balked, shame pressing heavily against your shoulders. “Oh— oh my. I am so very sorry—“
“It’s fine.” He cut you off again, his sightless eyes shifting to the floor as his hand came up to rub at the back of his neck. “I appreciate your kindness nonetheless.”
You took a shuddered breath, fighting to calm your heartbeat down to an acceptable tempo as you took in the boy once again. His eyebrows were squared across the tops of his eyelids, eyes still focused on the ground and his jaw clenched.
He looked quite constipated, actually.
He probably often had people asking him if he needed assistance around the castle. No wonder he was so snippy, he was
embarrassed.
Just from the little bit you had gathered from him, it was very apparent that he preferred to be independent. Not that you could blame him, of course. You couldn’t imagine what it would be like trying to navigate the world without your sight. If you were honest with yourself, you were quite impressed with the boy in front of you, even if you didn’t know him all that well.
It was his turn to clear his throat, dragging you out of your thought spiral.
You schooled your face into a gentle smile, letting your tone soften naturally. “It’s no trouble. What can I do?”
He seemed taken aback that you still wanted to help him, his posture relaxing slightly but his shoulders still stiff as boards and his face now twisted into an expression of aloofness— pleased with your response but still wary of your intentions. All it would take from you would be a little push against his back and he would be, quite literally, swimming with the fishes. Your heart ached a little thinking about the fact that he had to worry about that from your peers.
The blond pointed towards the spot he was leaning over a moment ago, his white eyes darting around in his skull as if refusing to meet yours. His other hand fiddled with the end of his robe sleeve.
“My wand seems to have rolled into the pond. I—” he coughed, “I can’t see without it.”
Your response was instantaneous, your helpful nature taking over and banishing your previous trepidation. “Oh! I can help you find it, if you’d like?”
He exhaled the breath you didn’t realize he was holding, letting his guard down a little bit more at the genuine eagerness you had to help him in his time of need. You quickly made your way to where he was pointing, edging around his body to keep a safe distance, before kneeling in a similar manner as he once was. You peered into the swampy surface, eyes scanning for anything out of the ordinary through the thick greenery and streaking colors of the koi fish swimming below. The boy sat with you, peering into the water himself as if trying to sense the location of his wand. After a moment, your shoulders slumped, unable to find his magic instrument. He noticed the change in your posture right away, forcing his own shoulders to shift towards the ground and his eyes to close, the crease in his eyebrow returning as he thought through his other options.
“I’m sorry, but I can’t see anything—” A gasp cut off your sentence, your eyes wide and a smile stretching across your face as your eyes looked under the surface again. The boy flinched at your sound, leaning closer to you and his eyebrows shooting towards his hairline in surprise.
“What? Do you see it?”
“Yes!” You cheered, your toothy grin bleeding through the solitary word.
There, just under a large patch of clover, was a softly glowing red light— a beacon calling for its lost owner.
You quickly shucked your house robe from your shoulders, throwing it in the direction of a dittany bush before hastily rolling up your sleeves and shoving your hand into the pond, causing tiny ripples to split the top into multiple little waves. The boy jumped back to avoid being splashed, nearly losing his footing against the wet concrete.
With a sound of triumph, you wrenched the wand free from the algae it was tangled around and back towards its anxious owner. Using the corner of your shirt, you carefully dried it off to the best of your ability before turning back towards your damsel in distress.
At first you were shocked by how close he had gotten in the mere moments you had been on the ground, but then as your eyes tracked up his face more, your breath stilled in your chest. Your mother had told you once that it was quite rude to stare at people you didn't know, but Merlin, his
eyes.
You had never seen eyes like that before. Wrapped around his pupils was a deep phthalo turquoise— the color of the north sea after a terrible storm. The hue seemed to bleed into the center, skipping over where his pupil should be and instead leaving a swirling pool of a lightly toned peat-bog, much like the pond you had just been elbow deep in a mere moment ago. Cutting through the oceanic depths were little zigzags of cornflower— like streaks of lightning on a summer night. They had to be some of the most beautiful things you had ever seen.
“—Hello? Are you alright?”
It was only when you heard his voice that you realized just how long you had been transfixed by his opalescent eyes. Your cheeks heated to an uncomfortable degree as you hastily looked away, desperately trying to ignore the look of concern turning down the corners of his lips.
“Yes, I’m alright.” You couldn’t seem to clear the lump that lodged itself just under your jaw. “Here’s your wand.”
You held out your prize to him, tapping it against his knuckles so he could locate it and not letting go until it was securely in his hand. You both stood from your hunched position, dusting the grass from the knees of your trousers and gathering the things you had discarded in your rush to help. Now facing each other, the air became tense with anxious energy— neither of you knowing who should break the silence first and walk away. You fiddled with your fingers for a moment, your teeth worrying at your bottom lip as you looked around at the plants growing by the waters edge.
The boy’s voice took on a questioning lilt when he broke through the awkward silence. “Thank you for helping me, I appreciate it immensely. But, I must ask, why didn’t you just use
Accio
to summon it? Do you not have your wand with you?”
You didn’t think your cheeks could get any more pink. Shite, why didn’t you think of that?
A nervous laugh bubbled out of your mouth. “I honestly forgot that spell existed. This is all still a little new to me.”
The boy balked, his words leaving his mouth before he fully thought them through. “Oh! Are you a muggleborn?” He seemed to instantly regret asking, his eyes squinting shut and his face twisting into that constipated look again. You thought the rosy tint stretching across his cheeks and the tip of his nose was lovely. “My apologies, that was…insensitive of me to ask. I’ll just leave you to—”
“Wait!” You said, suddenly very intent on keeping this not-so-prickly-anymore boy talking. “It’s alright. No offense taken, I promise.”
He stopped mid turn, listening to what you have to say.
“I suppose you could say I’m a muggleborn, even though I never knew that was a term until I came here, of course.” You laughed lightly, hoping to clear away the stiffness that seeped into his body once again. “Been here for four years and this all still confuses me to no end.”
He faced you again, a small smile turning the corners of his mouth. “I would imagine so. I’ve grown up around magic and a lot of it is still a mystery to me.” He rubbed at the back of his neck, a nervous tick he seemed to have. “So, you’re a fourth year as well?”
You smiled bigger, pleased to see that he was just as awkward as you were when it came to idle chit chat with strangers.
“Yes! I think I remember seeing you at the sorting. It’s all a bit of a blur, really.”
A wry smirk tweaked his lips. “I think I remember you as well. You were wearing a ribbon in your hair, correct?”
Your eyebrows furrowed. “No, that must have been someone—” You watched as his smile became more wolf-ish as his words registered. You chuckled lightly, your eyes falling shut and missing how his own softened the tiniest amount at the sound of your joy. He thought your laughter was like the twinkle of windchimes.
With your smile never leaving your face, you stepped closer to the friendly Slytherin, extending your hand towards him in a friendly greeting, giving him your name finally. He smiled bigger, a genuine thing that made you feel warm as he took your hand in his.
“My name is Ominis. Ominis Gaunt. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”
A loud voice from your right startled you both out of the happy bubble you had created. “There you are, Ominis! I’ve been looking all over for you! What are you doing— oh, who’s this?”
The sudden volume of the stranger made you both jump, causing your feet to skid against the wet tile decorating the fish pond, knocking your balance off kilter. Ominis, to his credit, tried to keep you from tumbling into the water, his hand tightening against yours and his feet shuffling for stability. Unfortunately, his efforts were in vain.
You vaguely registered a head of curly brown hair and freckled cheeks as your head was submerged, your clasped hands taking the blond down with you.
You breached the surface seconds apart, your clothes now soaked and sticking uncomfortably to your body. Looking to your new friend, you couldn’t help the laugh that fell from your lips at the sight of a sizable lilypad draped against his dripping hair. Your joy must have been infectious, because it didn’t take long for the blond to begin laughing as well.
A hand appeared in front of you, the heavily freckled arm connected to the, now very bashful, stranger that sent you tumbling. He reached to pull you out, waiting for you to accept his help before easing you out of the pond and doing the same to his friend. He smiled sheepishly at you once you were back on dry land, grabbing your discarded robe off the ground and draping it around your shoulders.
“Sorry about that.” He apologized, before holding out his hand to you again. “I’m Sebastian Sallow. I hope I didn’t dampen your opinion of me after startling you like that.”
You shook your head, still smiling at the ridiculous situation you had found yourself in on what was originally a relatively normal day, and introduced yourself to the blushing brunette, watching as he took off his own robe and pulled it around the shoulders of your newest friend.
Turning back to Ominis, chuffed that he seemed to be enjoying this as much as you were, you sighed happily.
“Well Ominis,” you simpered. “This seems like the start to a beautiful friendship.”
----- CHAPTER BREAK -----
March, 4th year
It wouldn’t be until months later that you had a moment to talk to Ominis. It wasn’t that you were avoiding each other— quite the opposite on your end, actually. Unfortunately, you just ran in different circles. Well, you did in a sense. He was often found with Sebastian, and those two disappeared to random corners of the school at any chance they got. You, on the other hand, lacking as you were in the friend department, spent a majority of your time flying around the Scottish Highlands. It was freeing to you, to be that far away from the castle and, in turn, away from the responsibilities of being a student at Hogwarts. You had been in school before your Hogwarts letter arrived, along with the estimable Professor Fig to explain the magical world to you and your muggle parents, but never had you gone somewhere so…interesting. For somewhere considered the “safest school in the Wizarding World,” it sure was, decidedly, not that. Currently, you had just returned from your flight to Upper Hogsfield and were doing laps around one of the more dangerous spots, the Astronomy wing. That tower in itself was quite precariously built, let alone the sheer height of it and how easy it would be to climb over the railings. You loved it, though; it was the perfect spot to practice tight turns and barrel rolls. That is, until a student at the very top calls out to you and nearly knocks you to your death. “Nice flying, lily pad!” You yelped in surprise, grabbing tightly to the broomstick under you and willing it to a screeching halt, casting a scathing glare to the boy who scared you silly. Sebastian Sallow lowered his hand from where it was raised in a wave, his face morphing into a bashful look of regret— a very similar face to the one he made when you first met. “Sorry…” he said, an apologetic smile creasing his face. As you flew closer to him, you heard a second voice come from his right. “Honestly, Sebastian. Because calling out to them went so well last time.” In your fright, you didn’t notice one Ominis Gaunt on the other side of the boy, his hair lightly ruffled by the freshly spring breeze and dislodging his normally perfect quiff. They were both dressed smartly in their casual weekend clothes— a starched cream button down with rolled sleeves under a forest green sweater vest and pressed dark brown corduroys for Ominis, and a patchwork brown sweater tucked into black trousers for Sebastian. Your heart gave a little lurch at how nice the blond looked outside of uniform. Strange, you thought to yourself. That was a reaction you hadn’t felt before. The troublesome brunette smiled again as you reached them, his arms now resting on the railing of the tower in a similar position as his counterpart, letting his body lean slightly over the edge. His hand bumped against Ominis’ clasped together ones. “Oh hush,” he mused. “Here they are, safe as life.” The blond snorted but didn’t say anything, just fondly rolled his eyes at his best friend. You cocked your eyebrow at Sebastian, joining the conversation from your perched position in the air. “What did you call me, Sallow?” You nodded in greeting to the other boy. “Hello, Ominis.”He nodded in return, beaming at the sound of your voice. The brunette jokingly winced, clutching at his chest like you personally hurt him. “Reduced to last names only? You wound me, lily pad.” He relaxed again, laughing at your confused face. “Well, seeing as you fell into a pond when we first met, I thought it was an apropos nickname, don’t you think?” You looked at him with amusement, gesturing with your head towards the quiet blond boy. “Ominis was the one with the plant on his head, not me.” The Slytherin in question groaned, dropping his chin towards his chest. “Don’t remind me.” “That is true,” the freckled teen said. “But Ominis would hex me where I stand if I dared call him that.” “And what makes you think I won’t do just that?” You smiled now, big and bright against the sunny sky as you goaded him on. “A chaotic sense of trust and a normally accurate read on people's true intentions?” He joked. “That, and I know that my friend here wouldn’t let anything bad happen to me.” He slung his arm across the grinning boy’s shoulders, flashing you a cheeky grin of his own. Ominis picked up Sebastian’s arm by the sleeve, his forefinger and thumb pinched around the fabric as he dropped it back to his side with a wrinkle of his nose. “On the contrary,” he teased. “I think I’d let them. Could take you down a peg.” You liked this side of him, you decided. The humorous side. The carefree side. It was much better than the prickly pine of a boy that you met by the Greenhouses. Sebastian’s mouth dropped in shock as he laughed, a smile still tweaking the corners of his lips. “Et tu, Brute?” The blond chuckled, “Don’t quote Shakespeare to me when you barely remember the plot of the play, you swot.” “I remember it enough to know a betrayal when I see one.” “Anyway—” you cut in, stopping their banter before it got too far along. “What are you two doing up here on this fine day?” Ominis jumped at the sound of your voice, forgetting you were there for a moment. You watched that lovely shade of red cross his nose and cheeks for the second time since meeting him, a smirk of your own growing on your face as you saw him look to the side, smiling bashfully. You would dissect the fact you just called him lovely later. The brunette sighed contentedly as a breeze blew through the valley. “Just enjoying the beautiful weather for once.” He looked to his side, catching sight of the last dregs of color painting the tips of his friends' ears. An idea seemed to spark to life in his mind, his eyes flicking between the blushing blond and the stupid, proud smile turning your mouth. His own carefree grin stretched mischievously. “Say…” he drawled. “I was just talking to Ominis about teaching him how to fly. Kogawa just kind of left him alone in first year when she taught the basics.” The lithe Gaunt frowned in confusion. “No you weren’t. You were talking about how pretty Poppy looked—” “But—” Sebastian cut him off. “Since you already have your broom out, and you seem more than capable, maybe you could help him figure it out.” Ominis stuttered at the notion, his eyes widening once he picked up what his roommate was trying to do. “Sebastian wait—” He turned to you, looking quite like a gasping fish, opening and closing his mouth as he searched for the right words. “You—you don’t have to do that—” “I’d love to.” You cut him off. He stilled, shoulders relaxing minutely. Perhaps this wouldn’t be too bad for him. “Oh. Um— are you sure? I-It may be a lot of work—” You cut him off again, that smile that hadn’t left your face since joining him atop the tower still evident in your voice. “I would love to teach you how to fly, Ominis.” He let his own smile finally return then, a soft thing that made your heart feel strange, warm, almost, in your chest. “Okay. Thank you.” His voice was soft when he spoke— sweet like a melody. Silently, you took back what you said to yourself earlier. You liked this side of him more. The shy, entirely too cute for his own good, side. Sebastian clapped him on the back, dissolving the strange, but comforting, tension that was brewing between you and the pretty blond. “See? Everything worked out.” He simpered, triumphant, before speaking directly to Ominis. “You’re in good hands, my friend.” He tilted his head towards you then, his voice raising so you could hear better. “Right, lily pad?” You nodded, saluting him with two fingers. “Sir, yes sir.” Ominis chuckled, directing his next words towards where you were still hovering. “Meet you by the quidditch pitch? Half an hour?” His heart stuttered at how tender your voice was when you replied, like your words were just for him to hear. “See you there.” He nodded at you in farewell, turning on the balls of his feet and walking towards the spiral stairs, the red tip of his wand blinking through the shadows. You watched him go, that stupid, dopey grin making its way back on your face as you thought about what it would be like to spend time with him— alone. Sebastian cleared his throat, drawing your mind away from the pleasant images of Ominis’ charming disposition and towards the brunette’s smug, annoying sneer. “What?” You asked, irritation leaking into your tone at that troublesome look in his eyes. “Nothing! Nothing.” He held up his hands placatingly, backing away from the railing finally and turning in the direction that his friend had just left in— his Cheshire smirk somehow got wider, stretching his cheeks almost unnaturally. The brunette called over his shoulder to you as he walked away, “Have fun!” *** The first thing you saw once your feet touched the ground in front of the quidditch pitch was Ominis dressed to the nines in a cocoon of padding. You held in your snickers as you took him in in all his glory, observing first the knee pads and chest harness wrapped around his limbs, then moving your eyes up towards the thick, pillowy protection decorating his shoulders, until finally your eyes locked onto his baby blues peeking out from under the much too-large hard hat covering the entirety of his forehead. That was the moment you truly lost it, giggles pittering out of your throat as you struggled to speak through the laughter. “Ominis, what in Merlin’s name are you wearing?” You had the decency to quiet your sounds at the self-conscious look that crossed the blond’s features, instead admiring the pink that twinged the tips of his ears through the helmet. He reminded you of a story your mother used to tell you before you went to sleep— a little mouse who was born with ears twice the size of his head. You couldn’t help but draw a comparison to how the tiny fellow’s ears flopped out from under his hat to the increasingly rosy ears of your Slytherin companion. Ominis puffed his chest like an irate diricawl, straightening his back and squaring his shoulders against his tiny shakes of insecurity. “Quidditch gear! It’s important to be safe when in the air, you know.” You laughed again at how ridiculous he was in that moment, preening like a proud peafowl, sans the feathers. He deflated slightly, fighting against the small smile that was threatening to crease his lips at the sound of your joy, even if it was directed at him. You took the look creasing his face as one of disheartenment, crossing the small distance between the two of you and patting him gently on the shoulder. “I’m very sorry, Ominis. You look quite dashing like that.” You simpered, stifling your laughter once more in an attempt to salvage the blond’s pride. The young Gaunt shrugged off your hand halfheartedly, turning his face away from you and grumbling to himself under his breath. You distinctly caught the word “twat” being muttered before he shook off the final dregs of color from his face. You sincerely apologized this time when he looked back at you, his eyes focused just over your shoulder. He nodded his head, a tiny smirk tweaking the corners of his lips as his way of saying he took no offense. A grin split your cheeks at the possible debauchery that invaded your thoughts. With a quick, sharp gasp, you feigned interest in something just off to the side of the both of you, craning your neck enough that the blind boy would surely take notice. “Oh my, what’s that over there?” He quickly whipped his head to the side, stretching so that his ear was focused for any strange sounds. “What is it? What did you see?” You smiled wider, mischief swimming in your eyes that the boy couldn’t see. He was so focused that he didn’t notice your nimble hands approaching his head, wrapping around the sides of his helmet and quickly yanking it off. “This!” You said, promptly dropping the head protection towards the ground before punting it far into the air with a grand kick. It flew with the birds just arriving back from their flight south, rotating like a planet on its axis against the clouds before falling back to earth, bumping down the canyon leading towards the thin river stretching along the school grounds. Ominis stood stock still at your left, his mouth opening and closing in shock as he heard his precious protection tumble down the grass and splash into the water below. His eyes were the size of saucers, eyebrows raised into his hairline and his blond tresses fluttering in the breeze blowing through the valley, giving him a delightful case of helmet hair. You shook with laughter, sputters of mirth cresting out of your chest and filling the air around you with the sweet twinkle of your happiness. He liked this side of you, he reasoned. The mischievous side. The cheeky side. It was much more preferable than the crestfallen and meek lilt of your voice that he drew out when he first declined your help all those months ago outside the Greenhouses. Even still, you did not know him well enough to know that he enjoyed just as much knavery as his freckled best friend. How could he not take advantage of this moment? It was incredibly rare that he made new friends, after all. Ominis schooled his face into one of outrage, squaring his shoulders in faux indignation as he shook his head. “Outrageous!” He spat. “It was a mistake coming here. If this is how you treat your friends, I shan't stay a moment longer.” He bit his lip to stifle the laugh that threatened to spill out, turning on the balls of his feet like he was about to stomp his way back to the castle. Just like he thought you would, your laughter quickly ceased its tumultuous volume, a somber look crossing your face as you grabbed at his arm. “Ominis wait!” You cried, a frown turning down the corners of your mouth and eyebrows scrunched above your eyes. “I’m sorry, that was rude of me.”He could hear your honesty in your words, and he almost felt bad for making you feel like you’d done something wrong. Almost. “It was just meant to be a bit of fun. I didn’t mean to offend—”He couldn’t hold it in anymore. A low chuckle spilled from his lips, rumbling his chest. You could feel the sweet vibrations where your hand was still latched around his, quite pronounced, you realized, bicep. Your mouth dropped open in mock outrage, a smile turning your mouth just as quickly as the frown did earlier. “You prick!” The grin in your voice just made him laugh harder, his arms raising to press against his stomach in elation. You started laughing along with him again, releasing his arm (not without a final squeeze against his muscles that you refused to acknowledge, of course) and smacking him lightly with both of your hands, each one hitting with a soft thwack. Ominis, still giggling in gaiety, caught both of your wrists in his hands, holding them as soft as one would stroke a butterfly's wings as he finally turned to face you. The smile stretching his cheeks was enough to knock the wind out of your lungs. “Ouch! Quit hitting me, you muppet!” You weakly struggled against his hold, thinking to yourself that the silent strength of his warm palms wrapped around you felt quite nice. “That’s not fair, Ominis!” You simpered, a giggle still dangling from your stretched lips. “All is fair in devilry, my dear.” The blond said, his breathing finally calming down. Looking into his eyes, still squinted in happiness and glowing brighter than the moon on a cloudless night, you fought the urge to flip his grip around and take both of his hands into yours. Color bloomed across the bridge of your nose at the thought— if anyone were to see you now, you’d blame it on being in the sun for too long. Little did you know, Ominis was fighting a similar urge within himself: the urge to run his thumbs across the pulse point on your wrist and bathe himself in the soft thrum of your heartbeat. Shaking yourself from the foreign, but not entirely unwelcome, emotion warming your chest, you gently pulled your wrists from the Gaunt boy’s grasp, smiling softly to yourself at the grin still stretching his face and the carefree look in his eyes as you summoned your broom from the ground.“Well, my dear,” you teased, prodding the boy in the chest with the end of your broom. “I say we take to the skies while there’s still daylight, shall we?” If he was bashful about the term of endearment he called you, he didn’t show it. Instead, he summoned the school-owned broom into his hand and presented you with his arm, waiting like a debonair gentleman for you to rest your hand in the crook of his elbow. You gladly took it, guiding him excitedly into the grandiloquent quidditch pitch so your lesson could begin. *** Ominis prided himself on how quickly he determined the disposition of a person— it was one of the strengths of being blind, after all. What he couldn’t gather from sight, he learned through his stronger senses: sound and touch. His wand helped him a majority of the time with everything else, particularly body language. People don’t realize how much they give away about their personalities through how they hold themselves. He knew everyone in the castle— was always aware of them— by their cadence. Sebastian was brash— confident— his footfalls always loud and precise. He knew how everyone saw him and he reveled in the attention. The blond was aware of Anne Sallow in the same way. He remembered how when she was at Hogwarts she was quick with her steps, her feet barely touching the ground and moving like she was constantly on a mission. This skill of his helped him immensely on a day to day basis. He knew who to avoid, who he was safe to walk by and make idle chatter with, and especially where all the professors were. He was no stranger to sneaking around after hours, of course, so it helped to know each and everyone by their general aura. He liked being aware. Awareness was safe. Awareness kept him safe. So it greatly troubled him at first that he wasn’t initially aware of you. The blond hadn’t really paid much attention to you in the past, if he was being honest with himself. Ominis liked to be in the know about everything, so the fact that you were an enigma should have intrigued him. He knew of you, sure, but you were more of a recluse— a feat worth noting, if he said so himself, particularly when taking into account that he knew nearly all secret rooms and passages in the castle. Knowing of someone, and being aware of them, he was always sure to note, were vastly different. Even still, he only really noticed you more once you had introduced yourself. You had this quiet presence about yourself— a flower growing in the crack of the pavement. Since that moment by the pond— the kindness you showed him when he did nothing to deserve it and the honeyed tone of your voice when you procured his prized possession from under the depths— the young Gaunt boy made it his goal to have you join him in the light where you belonged. He liked keeping his friends beside him, after all, no matter how few of them he had. Of course, he would deny that if anyone ever asked. Ominis Gaunt was not needy. He just really, really wanted to talk to you again. That was all. He just wanted to be more aware of you. He was aware of all of his friends. That was his secret skill— his pièce de résistance. That being said, this was a much higher level of awareness than he had been prepared for.While Madam Kogowa was a force to be reckoned with, with her stoic nature and sturdy disposition, you were a gentle but firm study. You directed him through the basics of broom handling, tapping him on the shin with your foot to correct his placement and letting your warm hands carefully place his fingers in the correct positions on the shaft. Each movement had a purpose; it was almost like a dance, but only you could hear the music. Above all else, you never lingered. You never tried to direct the boy by grabbing at him and pulling like so many people often did— even Sebastian, on occasion, if he wasn’t thinking through his actions. But, you never did that. Each time your fingers would brush against a part of his body, you would retreat out of his personal space. If it was anyone else, he would have appreciated the gesture. But, the more your soft hands touched his, every time your body heat would hover just so against his clothed arms, he wished you would linger, and he didn’t know what to make of it. Ominis Gaunt knew a lot of things. He knew that the sun would rise every morning and the moon would rise every night. He knew that honeysuckle was his favorite scent and earl grey was his favorite tea. He knew that he was different from his family in every way that mattered. He knew that Sebastian and Anne were his brother and sister, even if it wasn’t by blood. What he didn’t know, though, was how he felt about you. He didn’t like not knowing things. For once, Ominis, the ever Emotionally Intelligent boy that he was, was at a loss. Whatever this emotion in his chest was, though, he liked it— how it felt at least. It was warm, and after growing up in a house that was the metaphysical embodiment of cold, he craved warmth more than anything. “Ominis? Are you alright?” Your sweet cadence broke through the ever constant bustle of thoughts in his brain, silencing all sporadic movement in its tracks and leaving just the softness of your voice to fill his ears. He loved how you said his name— how you were sure to always mention that you were talking to him and him alone in your sentences. Even before when you were talking to Sebastian, you directed everything at him with one simple word. It wasn’t like it was the first time someone had ever addressed him directly in a conversation, it was proper etiquette after all, but the way you said it made him almost appreciate the foreign-ness of it— the distinct other-ness of his name compared to those of his peers. There was something lovely about the musicality of the vowels and consonants when you said it: Ominis. He’d never noticed how it rolled off the tongue before. Particularly, how it rolled off your tongue. Shaking himself from his thought spiral, it took him a moment to fully grasp what you had said in completion; it was like he was hypnotized by the gentle sway of your words. “Hmm? Oh, yes— yes, my apologies. I was simply lost in the clouds for a moment.” The boy could hear your steps as you paced around him— feel your eyes boring into his clothes with enough intensity to set him ablaze. Yet, there was a softness there, as well. Much like everything else to do with you, there was a pleasant heat to it, like a fire after a long winter day. You seemed to study him like Sebastian would study a book he hadn’t previously read, curiosity brimming under the surface and a yearning for understanding swimming in your aura, painting it a lovely shade of sunlight. Underneath your gaze he felt vulnerable— practically naked, even with his layers of clothing. You were gazing at him so intensely, it was almost like you knew more about him than you let on, like you could see right into his soul and pick him apart piece by piece until there was nothing left but his fragile beating heart in your hands. For a moment, he was considering letting you do just that.“What exactly are you doing?” He asked, trying to ignore the goose-flesh rising on his arms. You stopped then in front of him, your face close enough that he could feel the warmth of your breath against his cheek when you spoke, the timbre of laughter dressing your words. “Well, I hope you enjoyed your time up there, because you’re about to experience it for real.” He could nearly feel your smile against his skin and it nearly sent him spiraling. “I promise, everything will be alright.” His heart was beating too hard for him to care that you ignored his question. Ominis nodded, all reason thrown to the side and down the hill with his helmet because of you— your proximity, your grace, your laugh. How he adored your laugh. Even after knowing you for just under a year and talking to you a total of twice, your laugh was slowly becoming one of his favorite sounds. Yes, Ominis the All Knowing did not know why he felt like this around you, but, Merlin help him, he was going to figure it out one way or another. *** Ominis was flying much higher than he should, that much was for certain. Perhaps this was truly a bad idea, you mused to yourself as you watched him cling to the single piece of wood keeping him afloat. Without the padding he had, begrudgingly, shrugged off moments before take off, he was quite light it would seem. All it took was a particularly strong gale and he was soaring higher than the stadium pillars. Neither of you had taken into account the breeze that flew in from the coast that day in your assessment, the air carrying the lovely scent of pine and a hint of the salty sea. While the ground portion of the lessons had gone well, the air portion was proving to be quite tedious. You could hear the air cutting against the wood of his broom as he raced around in circles, screams like that of a banshee ripping themselves out of his throat as he fought against the possessed carousel he found himself stuck in. If it wasn’t such a dire circumstance, it would have honestly been quite funny. Around and around he went, slowly making his way from one end of the quidditch field to the other like a tornado shifting itself across a barren field. It was amazing he hadn’t gotten sick yet. The startled shrieks from the boy sent you into motion, quickly grabbing your broom from the ground and speedily making your way to the terrified blond, climbing up, up, up into the sky until you were parallel with his frightened form. You were sure that if you reached up with your full wingspan, you could touch the stratus clouds streaming across the brilliant blanket of blue above you. Ominis’ entire body was rigid, his arms locked around the handle of the broom in a gripping hug and legs nearly fused together at the ankles from the strength he was exerting trying to stay upright. His features, from what you could tell, at least, were just as tight. You caught a glimpse of a deep frown, furrowed eyebrows, and tightly closed eyes. There was no time to feel guilty as you raced after him, keeping to the far right of his cyclone and out of the way of any flailing limbs in case he, Merlin forbid, decided to let go. This entire thing was a bad idea. The next time you saw Sebastian you were going to throttle him into next week. You weren’t stupid, you knew that he suggested this because he wanted you and Ominis to get to know each other more— ulterior motives aside, he just wanted to be a good friend and expand the blond’s horizons. And now here he was, quite literally against the horizon. What were you possibly thinking, agreeing to help him? You weren’t thinking, was the thing. You were distracted by how his hair was ruffled in just the perfect way and his cheeks were that stupid, adorable shade of pink from the early spring breeze chilling his skin. You prayed he could hear your voice over the wind roaring in his ears. “Ominis, you need to stop spinning!” “I don’t bloody know how!” His voice sounded like it was coming from all directions at once. Well, at least he stopped screaming. “Unwrap your legs, it’s throwing off your inertia!” “My what?” He questioned, his voice rocking back and forth as he got closer and farther from you in a constant pattern. You shook your head, “Nevermind! Just do it!” He hesitantly did as he was told, releasing the death grip he had on the broom with his thighs and unlocking his ankles. Sure enough, he stopped spinning. He was still zipping back and forth across the stadium of course, but, as the saying goes, baby steps. You flew next to him now, able to finally catch up with his motions and be within arms reach if things go wrong. His upper torso was still practically glued to the shaft of his broom, causing his increasing speed. At this point his wand was nothing more than a pretty accessory trapped between his clenched fingers— there was no way it was picking up anything to help the boy sense his surroundings better. For a lack of better terms, Ominis was flying blind. You called out to him again, trying to keep your tone gentle so as to not stress him out more. This was a very delicate situation; one wrong move and there would be a Slytherin shaped hole in the middle of the Quidditch field. “Okay, Ominis. Now, lean away from the stick.” He made a noise similar to a kneazle who just had its tail stepped on. “I can’t!” Annoyance festered in your gut. “Yes, you can! Just loosen your grip. You’ll be okay, I promise!” He scoffed— well, as close to a scoff as he could muster. “If I remember correctly, you said the same thing before we got into this mess. Bugger all your promise did, then!” The broom wobbled underneath him and his arms latched on tighter. “And what part of ‘I can’t’ do you not bloody understand? If I let go, I’ll fall!” You groaned, throwing your head back in exacerbation. “Oh for the love of all things good—”You had to think fast— things were getting much more complicated than you had originally imagined. Every lap back and forth across the arena was getting closer and closer to the trees that lined the tall walls of the Hogwarts grounds. One more lap and the boy was likely to slam into a tree before even being able to stop himself. The broom under you began to shift against your weight, feeling your rising panic wash through your body like an oncoming tide. The time for gentleness had passed. It was time for action.“Listen, I know you’re scared, but we are far past the time for proper broom etiquette. I’m going to need you to jump.” The Slytherins head whipped in your direction faster than the wind slamming against your face. “Like hell I’m doing that!” He faced forwards again, every muscle in his expression screaming trepidation. He knew you wouldn’t just tell him to jump if there wasn’t a very important reason to do so. Gods, he hated how much he trusted you already, even when you were telling him to do something that would most definitely get him killed. “You’re actually trying to kill me. Sweet Merlin, my time has come.” You felt bravery rear its head deep inside of you, turning your words to stone— solid, sturdy, and twice as strong as the cement holding your grand school together. “Ominis, if you don’t jump right now, that tree you’re speeding towards is going to kill you— not me. You have to jump. I will catch you.” You swallowed against the nerves lodged just under your jaw, mustering all the courage you had into your next statement— words forged in steel stronger than damascus itself. “I swear on my life, I will not let you fall.” You could see every nerve in his body fire off all at once, scorching his entire existence in a flame of fear. He seemed to be struggling against himself, fighting the urge to go down with the ship and instead listen to your words. He knew that you would not fail him; your time together may have been short, but your desire to help others— your desire to help him of all people— was something that even he could not balk at. The thought of death reared its ugly head, and the young Gaunt knew that if he did not act soon, he truly would be just another pretty dead thing for nature to swallow whole. A lovely way to go, he thought, just got today. With a lack of grace that he was becoming accustomed to as of today, his body moved before his mind could process what it was doing, and he jumped. Against the screaming wind in his ears as he began his plummet to the ground, he heard the school broom slam into the tree just beyond the pitch, its once well used, but sturdy, wood splintering in every direction before tumbling to the grass below.
“Levioso!”
With one swish of your wand, you caught the boy in the air, carefully lowering him onto the back of your broom and allowing his shaking arms to snake around your waist before gently gliding the both of you to the ground. He’s off faster than a flash of lightning once he can feel the grass below his feet, wrenching his hands away from your wool sweater like it burned him before lowering shakily to his knees and all but toppling over against the earth. His chest heaved with each inhale and collapsed against every exhale as his unseeing eyes stared above, silently thanking every god he could name that he survived what he had ultimately decided he should not have. The relief from the both of you was palpable in the air, coating the once cool spring breeze with a blanket of stillness. Unsure if you should leave him to his thoughts or help him up like any friend would— if you could even call yourself a friend of his anymore— you decided to find a safe middle ground by carefully making your way over to him, steps sure but soft like one would approach a nervous puffskein in case he decided that he didn’t want your company ever again, and laid down an arms distance away. Unlike what you thought he would do, Ominis seemed to relax a bit once he felt your presence, letting his shoulders fully fall against the grass and allowing the tenseness that had befallen him to release into the world around him. Now that he was on land again, he felt safe— safe next to you, lying silently next to him underneath the afternoon sun. It was a while before either of you spoke, just letting the calming presence of nature around you seep into your bones like flowers to sunlight. “I am never doing that again.” Ominis said, a sigh heaving from his chest as he fisted the soft earth below his fingers. You laughed lightly, a tiny thing that got caught in the breeze much too quick for the boy’s liking. “I do not blame you— nor will I make you.” He chuckled in return, closing his eyes and fully basking in the last dregs of warmth breaching over the horizon before the chill of night settled across the Hamlet. “I’m pleased to hear that. It wouldn’t be a very friend-like thing to do to attempt my murder again.” A smile broke across your face at his words. “You’d still consider me a friend? I thought for sure that little excursion would have put a damper on whatever iota of a cordial relationship we had going for us.” He scoffed, reaching across the space between the both of you until he located your fingers. He took them into his own, intertwining his hand with yours. “I have had friends put me in much more dangerous situations than that, I assure you.” Ominis leaned his head to the side, an easy smile stretching the corners of his lips as he spoke his next words directly to you. “My dear, I fear you’re stuck with me now.” Your heart sputtered in your chest, tripping over its beats like a newborn hippogriff before it learns to fly. Heat painted your cheeks the color of the sunset far above your heads. “I think I’m alright with that,” you said, voice taking that softness that you’ve come to realize was reserved just for him. He did not let go of your hand until night had fallen and he safely walked you back to your common room, your broom tucked under his free arm while you led him with the other. Upon reaching the door he turned, fully facing you and smiling so sincerely that your heart nearly stopped for a second time within the span of an hour. His wind-tossed hair fell against his pale forehead, cascading just above his resplendent eyes and making him look like a renaissance painting. His words only reached your scrambled mind once he turned to leave. “Until next time, lily pad.” Oh. Oh. Oh no. This was going to become a problem.