THE BLIND WIZARD - The curse of the lake

by Nexeliam

Summary:

Ominis has just turned 12. He is the youngest child of one of the oldest wizarding families and is expecting to enter the most prestigious School of Witchcraft and Wizardry: Hogwarts. For the young boy, the news is as unexpected as it is terrifying, for it means that his frail shoulders will have to bear the reputation of his ancestral family. How can he makes a family as feared and respected as his own proud, when it expresses nothing but dislike to him? Ominis is blind, and he is far from imagining that he has the power to save the Wizarding World from a terrible plot, at the cost of painful secrets.

Notes:

Disclaimer : This is a work of fiction written by a fan as a past-time. Every Hogwarts Legacy/Harry Potter character featured in this story is the property of their original creator.
Crédit : I am the artist behind each images included in this story. Feel free to have a look on my Tumblr! If you wish to share some of my works, please do as long as you give a bit of credit, thanks ! (you can mention my name or share a link to my page).
Publishing frequency : Monthly (ideally) (cross-publicated on Wattpad)
Other language available : French

This is my first attemps at writing a full-fledged story, I do hope it will reach your expectations !
Please note that english is not my first language, hopefully the writing is of your liking.
If you have anything to share about this story, I would be happy to read it :)

Enjoy !

Chapter 1: The unwanted son

CHAPTER 1 - The unwanted son

 

The summer of 1885 was ending the same way it did every year: low thunder could be heard rumbling in the distance, winds blowing colder each passing days, birds getting agitated ahead of their new migration. From the window, Ominis missed none of the signs that summer was ending. The view from the manor dominated his family's entire estate, which they have owned for many generations. Their land lot would stretch far, far away, almost as far as the eye can see. This notion has always intrigued him, for he couldn't see any horizon, or any land. Ominis didn't sit at his window watching the trees swaying in the gusts or the sky turning amber. His world was a world of scent, touch and sound.

Ominis was blind. Sitting in his chair with his back straight, his hands resting on his legs and his dark-blond hair neatly pulled back, he let himself being lulled by the rustling of the bushes around the manor’s esplanade or the chirping of the titmice in the oak tree of the central courtyard. His attention was also focused on the sounds coming from inside the manor. He could decipher several voices muffled by the thick walls coming from the first floor. Visits to the manor were more frequent at this time of year, most of the visitors being investors, who have come to discuss business with his father, the estate's owner, at the start of the accounting year. And more visits meant more time locked upstairs.

His father, Marvolo Gaunt, was a proud man. Proud of his business, proud of his family and, above all, proud of his name. Ominis knew all to well that the house of Gaunt was one of the most recognized wizarding families in England, not only in the production and trade of magical plants, highly prized potion-making ingredients, but also their magical history. He was constantly reminded his family traced its origins back to the most ancestral of wizards, whose magical exploits have shaped the wizarding world as it is today, making their pure blood a treasure to be conserved down the ages, and their name a reputation not to be tarnished under any circumstances. 

He lowered his head at that last thought, his rigid back breaking with a sigh. This reason, among others, explained why he rarely left this room. Spending time in the gardens, going to the nearby town of Little Hangleton, or even settling in one of the ground-floor rooms would mean exposing himself to eventual foreign eyes, something his father would prefer to avoid. Even if Ominis was known to be the family's youngest child, the sight of a cripple, whose body is as weak and fragile as a house elf, on their property wouldn’t exactly serve what his father called "preserving the family image". All these reasons lead to Ominis being discarded in this room at the drop of a hat.

He hated it here. Although it beared his name, Gaunt Manor was not his home, and Ominis would never consider it as such. He's always lived with his aunt, where he had spent his entire childhood and received his entire education. So when his guardian's obligations brought them within these ancestral walls, whether for a few days or a few weeks, he's never thrilled. The manor seemed to have a negative effect on him, as if it was making it clear that he wasn't welcome here. He never felt comfortable within its walls, the residents (he couldn't bring himself to call them family) were as welcoming as tombstones and the sleeping was awful (he never has nightmares at his aunt's house). In other words, he didn't feel at home in the land of his ancestors.

He was snapped out of his thoughts when he picked up faint sounds of footsteps on the other side of his door.

"You can come in," he said, straightening his back again, before Putsy even had time to knock. Nonetheless, he heard the sound of three small knocks on the wooden door, followed by a slight creak of hinges.

"Putsy apologizes, Master. Putsy... would never enter the young Master's room without letting her presence known."

"Of course." the boy replied, shaking his head gently. "Come closer."

All his thoughts have made him lose track of time, although he now clearly remembered hearing the clock in the corridor striking half-past-three. Putsy gently closed the door behind her, then approached him in short strides, her bare feet barely audible on the thick carpet. He recognized the faint wheeze of her breathing as she stopped in front of him the same way he could clearly hear the sound of her garment rubbing at each of her moves. 

"You can sit down while you read, if you feel like it."

"Putsy wouldn't... abuse the Master's generosity." 

Putsy was one of the four servants of the Gaunt family. She was a house elf, a creature commonly found as house attendants of the greatest wizarding families. Despite their small size and puny bodies, house elves were endowed with magical powers that enable them to perform tasks more efficiently than a normal wizard would (Ominis never got tired of the sparks that sounds whenever Putsy disappeared to move to another room). Docile and helpful by nature, house elfs would serve powerful families their whole life. Only the gift of a garment could free an elf from its servitude, whether willing or forced, during which their outfit was rarely more than a shred of cloth. Even though he was only 12, Ominis knew that Putsy was barely half his size, from the distance of her voice and breathing. 

Putsy was the elf who looked after him the most when he was staying at the manor. She was perhaps the only one who cared for him, aside from his aunt, who was currently attending the guests downstairs. Putsy was always there when he needed her. She was the one who prepared his food, made his bed or opened doors on his way. Because Ominis was blind, one would think he was admirable at remembering his surroundings, but he was not familiar enough with the Manor corridors to remember them all (it wasn't as if he could have wandered them at will). Just another reason to loathe this place, where every nook and cranny seemed designed to be unfriendly to his inability.

For the past few days, Putsy had been meeting him every afternoon to read him a few pages from a book he particularly likes: " Muggle Daily Routine ". Ominis didn't know how long he had been in possession of this book, but he never refrained from having it read to him over and over again. A strange fascination, when comparing to the other Gaunts and their obsession with their blood purity. This had rendered them hateful towards Muggles, magic-free individuals, who lived in a world almost parallel to their own, where witchcraft was only seen as fantasy. The Gaunts were known to shamelessly despise these ordinary people. 

Ominis often thought that his love for this book perhaps came as a way to defy this family, that showed him nothing but disdain and disgust, as it goes at the opposite of what they value and respect. He often empathized with Muggles too. Although he had potential, Ominis had never been very good at practicing magic. He was nowhere near the standards of the Gaunts or the other great families for his age. In other circumstances, he would certainly have shown encouraging signs of magic by now, which would have been welcomed as glimpses of power in any important wizard family. In fact, he often felts of himself as less of a wizard than a newly magic-introduced Muggle (despite what his family may be thinking, Muggles DO develop magical abilities in very rare cases, as stated in the introduction to " Muggle Daily Routine "). A proper or thorough education in magic remained the best way to develop one’s magical skills, but Ominis had little to no hope of ever being admitted to a school of magic, certainly not with his blindness in the way. 

Time and again, he had asked his aunt about his difference: why were his body and magic so weak despite coming from such a powerful bloodline of wizards? Why couldn't he see like everyone else could? She often told him that he was answering his first question when asking the second: surely his magical potential was only slowed as his body was too busy to compensate for his blindness on a daily basis. And when it came to understanding the latter, his aunt's only explanation was that it was meant to happen, that fate made it that way, and that he had nothing to be ashamed of: everyone is endowed with their own differences, as consequential as they might be. 

Ominis realized he'd gone back into his thoughts when Putsy's little voice pulled him out of his trance.

"Putsy is waiting patiently for the Master to hand over the book."

"Oh, my apologies, Putsy," Ominis replied, grabbing the book, which he had left on the windowsill the day prior. Putsy would never dare to hold any of her Masters' precious items without their permission, and Putsy knew how much the young Master valued this book. She also can't help but let out a quiet sob, as she did every time her Master showed her respect, as unfortunately, not all Gaunts would do the same.

Once the book had been handed over, Ominis leaned back against the chair, hoping the next chapter will shake him out of his gloomy thoughts. 

 

 

The reading session was interrupted by the faint sound of a chime. Ominis didn't know how long he's been listening to Putsy, but it has already been several minutes since he felt the warmth of the sun leave his face. It was almost dinner time.

"If the master will excuse Putsy. Putsy has lot of work to do in the kitchens." She closed the book and placed it on Ominis' already open hands. He thanked her with a nod and with a snap of her fingers, vanished in a spark. 

Silence has returned in the cooling room, now that the sun had disappeared behind the hills. Ominis remained seated for a moment, before he decided to inspect the book he still had in his hands. After all these years, he knew every bit of it, every rough edge, every detail. This book had always been in a sorry state. Its thick cover was flayed in places, and some of the pages towards the front of the book showed traces of dried dampness. The book opened with the sound of old tree bark cracking, and when turning every page, Ominis felt as if he was crumpling hay. To some extent, he often thought this book was a bit like him. It seemed to have no place among the other brand-new books in the manor. Anyone would have gotten rid of such a wreck of paper, but not him. Even in this state, the book still served its purpose to him. So at times, he comforted himself with the idea that despite his condition, he could still serve a purpose as well.

Someone came up the stairs and was coming his way. Ominis hurriedly closed the book, afraid that his father, or worse, his brother, would catch him red handed reading on Muggles. But when two small knocks sounded on the door, he immediately recognized who it was. 

"It's me, Noctua," announced his aunt while entering.

Ominis relaxed and smiled in her direction. He followed the sound of her footsteps to him, where she knelt down, gently taking his hands.

"I hope you're not too bored ? Were you reading the book again ?" she asked, stroking his hands with her thumbs.

Ominis nodded. "We've reached the chapter on cooking." 

"Oh how ingenious Muggles are when it comes to cooking. It's not much different from our magical concoctions after all, but what’s fascinating to me are the tools they use. But, I guess you already know all of that."

Ominis was really lucky that Aunt Noctua was so kind to him. He sometimes wondered if she really was from the same family as his father, given their very different views and behavior, especially towards Muggles. Surprisingly, Noctua seemed to find them fascinating, while Marvolo only saw them as insignificant as insects. No doubt Ominis got open-minded about them by growing up with her, much to the annoyance (or indifference) of the other Gaunts. But it would'nt matter, as this was just another line in his family's list of reproaches they have toward him.

Ominis flipped aimlessly through his book, his pale and unfocused eyes lowered before him. He couldn't wait to pack up his things and leave Little Hangleton, to return to the comfort of his aunt's home. 

"When do we go back to Brightview?" he asked softly.

"Soon. Your father has a lot to deal these past days and needs my help. A little more patience."

Ominis didn’t respond to this, his fingers continuing their dance between the pages, when they suddenly froze on one of them. It was strangely rigid, and unusually thick. How odd. At first, he thought he'd stumbled across the bookmark, which he would have moved under his fingers without noticing, but it was far too wide. The object clearly hadn't been there a second earlier.

"What is it?" asked Noctua, whose attention turned to the book as well.

Ominis opened it and felt the strange page detached from the rest. He inspected it with his fingertips. The object was a folded sheet, its corners joined at the center, held in place by a patch of wax. It was a sealed envelope.

"By Merlin!" exclaimed Aunt Noctua, nearly knocking the letter from Ominis's hands in surprise.

"What's...what is it?"

"Oh Ominis, that's wonderful!" she continued, a smile in her voice. "It's a letter from Hogwarts!"

Ominis eyes widened. He took the letter in both hands. He couldn't believe it. Hogwarts was the most important and renowned school of magic and wizardry in the whole of England.

"Give it to me, so I can read it to you!" hurried Noctua excitedly. Ominis complied, stunned, his body strangely shaking. The front of the letter read: 

 

to Ominis Gaunt,

"Muggle Daily Life", page 337,

Gaunt Manor, Little Hangleton.

 

Ominis couldn't suppress a stunned gasp. He didn't know how to react, between trepidation and apprehension. 

"They’ll never fail to amaze me," chuckled Noctua, almost as excited as if the letter was intended for her. She delicately detached the seal, unfolded the paper and hastened to tell him the contents, when "Huh?" The letter fell out of her hands. Ominis didn't hear it fall to the carpet though, for the letter had started to levitate, before it recited :

 

HOGWARTS SCHOOL OF MAGIC AND WITCHCRAFT

Principal: Phineas Nigellus Black (Order of Merlin, International Confederation of Wizards)

 

Ominis's eyes widened even more. The letter was speaking to him. 

"How considerate. They thought of sending you a Reciter." Noctua smiled. The voice was feminine, slightly gravelly, but very benevolent. She continued: 

 

"Dear Ominis Gaunt,

We are pleased to inform you that you have a place at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please find enclosed a list of all the necessary books and equipment. Term begins on 1 September. In regard of your situation, I will meet you personally at Hogsmeade station this day, to determine whether or not certain arrangements need to be made for you. We await your owl by no later than July 31.

Yours faithfully

Matilda Weasley,

Deputy Headmistress"

 

When the reciting was complete, the letter folded back on itself and fell gently to the ground. Ominis was at a loss for words. He couldn't believe what he had heard. So then, he wasn't as hopeless as he had always thought? Was he really being invited to join Hogwarts? Warm arms suddenly hugged him.

"Oh, my little Ominis, I'm so proud of you ! I've always knew this day would come. I'm sure you'll make a wonderful wizard once you graduate at Hogwarts."

Ominis slowly embraced her back, unable to prevent a big smile from forming on his lips. Noctua took one of his hands and invited him to stand.

"Come, dinner is almost ready. We must inform the others of such a great news!"

Ominis's smile disappeared at once at this sentence. Carried away by his aunt, it was certainly one of the few times Ominis showed hesitation at the idea of leaving this room.

 

 

Notes:

Ominis Gaunt - 1885

Ominis is a 12 years old blind boy. He is the youngest child of the renowned Gaunt family, a line of pure-blood wizards. Despite his status, he is persecuted by his own kin as he struggles to develop his magical abilities. The Gaunt see his inability as an affront to their name. He is withdrawn and distrustful to anyone except his aunt, who took him under her wing after his father rejected him for his weakness. Living away from his closest relatives and their extrem beliefs has rendered him tolerant and open-minded. His aunt is like his mother, as she seems to be the only one who really cares for him.

Chapter 2: The Gaunt family

Notes:

Also available in French.

I hope you'll enjoy this chapter.
I wish you a good reading !

 

CHAPTER 2 - The Gaunt Family

 

Ominis could hear the house elves bustling around the table, dishes clinking under their frantic strides. They served the guests their plates, unfolded the napkins and pulled out the serving cart carrying the rest of the food. As always, Putsy served him his plate with its content already carefully cut. When the elves had finished their tasks, they left the room in a final clinking symphony, giving way to a new array of sounds.

There were five people seated around the table. Noctua was by his side and, seated in the chair next to her, was his older brother Marvolo Jr. Ominis had no trouble recognizing his distinct carelessness when handling cutlery, as he hadn’t even cared to wait to take his first bite. Opposite his brother was Theresia, his older sister, whose movements were so slow that she made little to no sound, as if her silverware were made of crystal. It's been a long time since Ominis stopped being fooled by her prudish façade. Finally, at the head of the table was his father, Marvolo the first, whose writing quill had been scratching away at his notebook the whole time. 

"Mr. Treadwell has poorly concealed his skepticism about our guarantees, but I think he'll honor our partnership until our next meeting," he announced without preamble. A page of his notebook turned, "We need to act fast before more partners start looking for another party."

Marvolo was a businessman devoted to his company, one of Britain's largest botanical magic ingredient producers. He owned several farms in Britain, including one not far from the Manoir, and which has been in everyone’s mind in recent weeks. There, the crops had been completely lost, apparently due to a cruel lack of magic in the soil. The consequences seemed to be shaking the very balance of the business, which has made the family’s fortune for years. Despite this strange magical drought, his father remained as stoic as marble. Ominis thought he has never known his father to express positive emotions.

"Ten years of maturing Asphodel plants reduced to nothing," he said gravely. I refuse to wait another ten years for the farm to become profitable again."

Ominis knew this sentence was directed at his aunt. With Marvolo being the business salesman, it was Noctua's job to ensure the good health of the crops. After several years working for the Ministry of Magic, she traveled the world in search of plants with unique properties, some never studied before. Being an avid botanist, she was the first to bring a number of ingredients back to England, which were now indispensable components in the making of most potions. She had been working with her brother for almost six years.  

"That is an issue to tackle immediately, Noctua. Asphodel represents one of the company's best selling product. We can't afford to lose this monopoly." he asserted, his quill breaking a line noisily.

"We'll find a solution," reassured Noctua. "I think with further research, we..." 

"Enough research, now is the time for action."

"I understand your eagerness, but let's not be hasty. Without practice, theory is worth little. How about we resume this discussion at a more opportune time and place?

"In times of crisis, no time is more opportune than another." Marvolo replied curtly.  

"Not today. You see, I've just learned a wonderful news." she replied after a moment.

Noctua rose from her chair, then put her hand on Ominis's shoulder, who stiffened under her fingers. Was she planning to announce his admission right in the middle of a business discussion? Even without even seeing him, Ominis could tell his father was frowning menacingly. "Ominis has just received his letter of admission to Hogwarts," Noctua announced, a smile on her lips. She presented the letter to the table with a rustle. 

The sound of the quill stopping abruptly was as loud as  thunder in Ominis' ears. It took him a few seconds to realize that all the other sounds around the table had also ceased.

"I see," boomed his father's voice, "and how is this a topic far more important than the tackling of the peril that threatens our entire company ?”

Ominis swallowed at the ruthless tone.

"You'll get your solution, Marvolo," Noctua replied firmly. "You know I always keep my promises. At this moment, your son's magical future seems to me as one of our priorities, indeed."

Marvolo dipped his quill into his inkwell with force.

"Ridiculous," he snapped, "I would have been mistaken, then ?"

The sound of his finger tapping on the table resounded like a drum in Ominis' head.

"A letter. From. Hogwarts."

Each word felt like daggers. Ominis remained upright in his chair,  taking all it in with a frown. He should be proud of his admission, so why did he have to fight the horrible urge to hide under the table? It wasn't as if he'd expected compliments from his father.

"Damn Black," growled the latter. I see he's indulging himself as the headmaster."

"Are you implying Phineas has something to do with the letter ?" said Noctua loudly, a hint of disbelief in her voice. "That's ridiculous. No one can interfere in the admission process, not even a headmaster".

"Certainly not with what they teach at Hogwarts, for sure," replied Marvolo nonchalantly. Have you forgotten that families like ours or the Blacks don’t restrain ourselves to what books teach us at school ?"

Like the Gaunts, the Blacks were another renowned family of pure-blooded wizards. This Black, by the name of Phineas, was an old acquaintance of Marvolo's, and was the current  Headmaster at Hogwarts School for the last five years now.

"I hope for Phineas's sake that this letter is not of his doing, or he will regret it, long-time friend or not."

"He wouldn't have taken such a risk," retorted Noctua, still standing. To use forbidden magic for such a purpose would cost him his position."

Marvolo said nothing, then straightened on his chair even more, more contempt filling his voice.

"That’s right. Who would be so profoundly stupid to do such a stunt, especially for a case like his ?" he spat, jerking his chin in disdain toward the boy. "I had made up my mind long ago, and rightfully so. But now that he's got his letter, no need to fuss about it. At least, there won’t be any work to be done on my part on this matter. Now sit down."

Noctua sat back again, but didn't intend to leave it at that.

"This letter is irrefutable proof that Ominis has every chance to become a great sorcerer too. All he lacked was a qualified place where he could develop his full potential. There is no better place than Hogwarts."

"Not sure that is the only thing he is lacking," Marvolo Junior sneered, now that his plate was empty and his mouth wasn't full.

Noctua glared at him, the movement not going unnoticed by Ominis.

"Since he's been living with me in Brightview, he's been making great progress. I have been waiting for this day to come, hoping for this letter. Now I am relieved. If Hogwarts is where he needs to catch up on the basics, so be it. All the wizards who have been to this school have developed great magical talents there, whether they come from families like ours or even from Muggle parents. I have no doubt that Ominis will succeed."

"Don't mention these people at my table ! And don't you ever say my family home isn’t a qualified place to learn magic." growled Marvolo Sr, his hand coming down on the table hard, making all the dishes wobble.

Noctua didn’t dare continue, allowing Marvolo Junior to speak again with a laugh.

"Compared to a Muggle. And here I thought you couldn't get any lower, Ominis!"

Ominis showed no reaction and took a bite of his piece of beef. The comparison didn't bother him all that much. Sometimes he even envied the seemingly ordinary lives of these Muggles, away from the problems of pure-blood and magical expectations. 

"To think that Hogwarts keeps admitting more and more Muggles every year is an outrage," his father protested. "Only to pure-blooded wizards should we grant access to this heritage, not this vermin. If I'd been Phineas, I'd have declined the offer without batting an eye. Surely Hogwart’s location is still a great deal for him, from the days when this part of the Highlands belonged to the Black." 

"And if he had refused, he wouldn't be unfairly called a charlatan," grumbled Marvolo Jr, scraping his fork across the empty plate. "At Hogwarts, everyone sees him as the worst headmaster ever."

"No matter. I'd rather see a Black at the head of this school than a Weasley. I don't know how Phineas stands to work with Matilda Weasley as his second. Hogwarts really isn't what it used to be. Things need to change in this school."

"Father, you're not letting Ominis go, are you?" whined Theresia, her voice sounding as painful as it was fake.

Ominis held his breath. He could almost hear the cutlery grinding in his tightening  fingers. His father being the head of the family, he was the one making the final decisions, on almost everyone's behalf. Even Noctua, a renowned witch, had to bend to his will. However, Ominis found himself breathing again at what followed.

"I'm not going to ignore an invitation from an establishment of such renown, I'm already in enough trouble. If this takes him off our hands, so be it. It's out of the question to pay an establishment a fortune for a case like his. He'll go to Hogwarts just like you," he said in a heavy tone.

Theresia and Marvolo Jr were both students at Hogwarts, and were about to start their fifth and sixth years there respectively.

"What about our family reputation we've worked so hard to establish there?" exasperated Marvolo Jr. "He's going to bring shame to our name. He'll never be able to duel, or even transfigure at all! Except maybe into something deformed!"

Ominis knew that his brother and sister, as awful as they were toward him, had great magical skills for their age. Marvolo Jr. never missed an opportunity to boast about his talents for offensive magic. How fitting for such a belligerent character. As for his sister, it was metamorphosis spells that she mastered the most. Again, what is more appropriate for someone who likes to constantly hide behind deceiving masks.

"Have you gone mute, Ominis? You know that in many cultures, silence is a sign of approval?" taunt his brother. 

"That's enough, Marvolo. Leave him be." growled Noctua. 

Ominis took advantage of a sudden ounce of courage to pounce back.

"There's no need to provoke me, Marvolo. I won't give you the pleasure of playing your game." he said, his voice loud enough to be heard by his brother.

"Once a coward, always a coward." was the answer he got.

"Enough of this now," intervened Marvolo. Noctua, we have an appointment in London in two weeks, you'll get his supplies while I’ll be seeing the magic substrate expert there. Only settle for the essentials - that's the last thing our finances need."

Then Marvolo rose from his chair and left the room, taking his notebook and quill with him, leaving his meal untouched. 

 

 

Since he learned of his admission, Ominis found himself counting each hour. He was so eager to get to London to do his school shopping. The letter stated he needed specific books, wizard clothes and above all, a magic wand. The wand was the most important possession of a wizard. Without it, it was unlikely that anyone could practice magic at all. Ominis has heard one day that choosing a wand felt like a test, but he tried not to think too hard on this. 

He didn't know what it would be like to set foot in a real city, so a certain amount of apprehension nibbled at him too. He really didn't know what to expect, having never been further than Little Hangleton or his aunt's house, just a few hours away. But what has sapped in enthusiasm more than once was knowing his father would be there on that day. 

When that fateful time came, Marvolo had called for a carriage early in the morning to pick them up in front of the Manor. Ominis had made a face, for in-air carriage rides have never been pleasant for him. Knowing he would be so far off the ground made him extremely nervous. Noctua was always kind enough to ride him on roads or use the Floo powder to get around. However, as popular as this means of transport was among wizards, using chimneys as portals thanks to this powder was out of the question for Marvolo. Rushing into flames shouting out your destination, only to end up covered in ashes, wasn’t even an option for the man, who found this means of travel demeaning in the extreme.

Once settled the carriage, the driver made sure its three passengers were comfortable, then lightly tapped the front of the vehicle twice with his wand. Ominis then heard an almost imperceptible sound of friction around him, as if the carriage were being covered with a huge blanket. An invisibility spell. Once the spell was conjured, the coach tugged on the reins and the carriage lifted off the ground, Ominis feeling like his stomach was left behind.

He had no choice but to endure the journey with his hands firmly clasped to the seat cushion. How he hoped he wouldn't get sick at the end of it. The journey took several hours, during which, to his surprise, Marvolo and Noctua remained mostly silent. When a few words were exchanged, they never spoke of the farming issue. He assumed they had their noses buried in an account book or between the pages of the Daily Prophet, but the air was strangely heavy. Once on the outskirts of the capital, the carriage began its descent and touched down on a forest road, where in two short taps, the invisibility spell was broken.

Ominis hadn't expected London to be so stifling and deafening. No sound was familiar to him, except the multiple voices blending all around them. Ever since they landed, the urge to get off had been growing stronger. So when the carriage finally arrived, he had no trouble finding the handle and climbed out first.

The rest of the journey was laborious, to say the least. They had to pass through several doors, invisible to unexpecting Muggle, one of which was in the backyard of a centuries-old pub, and the other in a cabinet of a secluded store. While the former led to an alley crowded with wizards excited about the start of the new school year, the other opened onto an equally crowded alley with a gloomy, damp-smelling atmosphere. There, it seemed, was their destination.

"I'm going to Mulpepper's Apothecary. The wizard's equipment store is that way. Meet me when you're done."

And with that, Marvolo disappeared into the crowd. Noctua grabbed her nephew's hand and led him into the alley. Ominis felt very uncomfortable, whether by the people around him, the almost icy air or the uneven cobblestones beneath his feet. His shoes were caught by one of them, making him trip and let go of his aunt's hand.

"Ominis, don't..."

"Madam Gaunt!" a man suddenly called, seeming to appear in front of Noctua from among the passers-by. "What a delightful surprise to find you here, in Knockturn Alley. How's your brother?

"Wonderfully well, Mr Moribund." she replied curtly, with the clear urge to return to Ominis.

"I've heard some terrible news, you know. A terrible incident, at one of your farms."

"Mr. Moribund, you mustn't trust everything you hear."

"Then should I trust this rumor about..."

Ominis remained where he was, listening to the conversation without paying much attention. As with every new place, the ambient noises monopolized all his senses, and what reached him gave him the creeps. Shuffling, irregular footsteps scraping the ground nearby, hysterical laughter echoing over the street noises, grunts so strange he wondered if they were even human, then a hoarse voice just to his right.

"Has t-this relic caught your eye, my boy?

The owner of this wheezing voice seemed to have come out of thin air, and Ominis couldn't mistake the petty smile in his voice. Petrified, he finally realized that he wasn't facing the street but what he assumed was a shop window, his unfocused eyes certainly pointed at the relic in question.

He heard the man's rough hands rubbing together.

"It is s-said that it can lift corpses-s from their tombs. The dark magic it contains-s is very, very old. Any pet you would want to get back ?" he said, laughing sickly at the last part.

Already uncomfortable, talking about black magic made Ominis nauseous. It was a form of magic condemned by many wizards, and accepted by others, usually from high and corrupted places. He wouldn't be surprised if his family were part of it. But he had never practiced it himself, as Noctua had told him that Dark Arts always came with a heavy price. 

Frozen on the spot, Ominis hoped the man would eventually leave on his own in the face of his indifference. But this seemed to annoy him instead. 

"Haven't you been taught to look into people’s eyes-s when talked to?" he growled, a rough hand gripping his arm.

A scream to his aunt almost left Ominis’s lips, when he was cut off by a hurried noise behind him, followed by the very recognizable hiss of a wand being drawn. 

"Leave him be if you value the few good memories of your miserable life!" scolded his aunt, in a voice Ominis barely recognized.

Threatened by the wand, the man let go and moved away, uttering words Ominis couldn't identify, but sounding more annoyed than frightened.

"Don't let go of me, Ominis! said Noctua, grabbing his hand again. Knockturn Alley is not a place to be on his own. Let alone children."

Ominis felt his eyes grow hot. This day was definitely not how he had imagined it. They had only just arrived and he was already thinking about leaving again, almost giving up on the idea of acquiring his supplies, and his first wand.

 

 

Notes:

Marvolo Gaunt - 1885

Marvolo Gaunt is the head of the Gaunt family and Ominis's father. He runs one of the largest magical plant farm of the country, a business that has made his family's fortune. He is a composed but intolerant man, who would not hesitate to confront those who stand in his way. Only those who share the same extremist practices and values earn his respect. As a pure-blood wizard and descendant of Salazar Slytherin, one of the founder of Hogwarts, he has grown intolerant to magic-free individuals, who he considered unworthy to learn magic.

Chapter 3: The wand's choice

Notes:

Also available in :French.

Hope you'll enjoy !

 

CHAPTER 3 - The wand's choice

 

Ominis entered the magical equipment shop with a heavy sigh of relief. Their walk through the winding alleys had seemed endless, pushing their way through the dreary crowd, but the door muffling the uncomfortable sounds from outside felt liberating.

There were the only visitors. A creaking pendulum disturbed the quietness of the place, its spaced knocks loud enough to shake the walls. Behind the counter, someone was using a typewriter, each stroke on the keys slamming in the silence like a hammer on a nail. The air was charged with dust to the point Ominis had to suppress a sneeze when entering, their arrival having summoned a cloud of particles around them. He could swear the floorboards were covered in a thick layer of dust, with how slippery they felt under his shoes. The temperature was as cool as it was outside, and he could tell there were drafts by the slight hissing sound around him.

He couldn’t believe how gloomy the store was, that impression certainly enhanced by his lack of vision. As for the hasty scratches he thought he heard on the floor, he hoped they were just a figment of his imagination.

As soon as they entered, the typewriter went silent.

“Mrs. Gaunt.” came a low voice from the back of the room. Ominis grimaced at how deep it was, as it echoed off the walls as if they were standing in a cathedral. It reminded him of Grumpy, the oldest of their four house elves, whose bad temper had earned him his name.

“Grimard” Noctua replied simply, before taking several steps towards him, pulling Ominis with her. “We came to get a wand for my nephew,” she said before stepping aside to reveal the boy to her interlocutor.

The old man eyed him for a moment, then came out from behind the counter to stand right in front of Ominis, the floor slowly creaking under his shuffling feet.

“The crippled son.” he said in an almost accusatory tone. He was so close that Ominis could smell his repulsive breath. “Welcome to Grimard & Son, manufacturer of unbridled wands,” he introduced himself in a monotone voice. “We pride ourselves on offering the most expressive wands there is, regardless of any restrictions when it comes to their components or their magical inclination. Our wands match all ambitions and are the source of the greatest accomplishments.”

Then the man just walked away without waiting for any reaction, as if he had just played an automated record. From the expressionless of his voice and slowliness of his moves, Ominis felt like he was in the presence of boredom itself.

After several seconds, or minutes, Ominis couldn't say, the man came back to them. Ominis then felt his aunt gently take his hand and lift it in front of him.

“Wand’s core made of Thestral hair, like each of your family’s.” Grimard muttered in a bland voice.

Ominis felt his throat tighten with apprehension. Unlike the old second-hand wand his aunt lended him for occasional practice, this wand here was brand new, the first Ominis had ever laid hands on. He was overcome with uncertainty. How will he know when he will be chosen? Was he expected to play some part in this important selection? He held his breath, gauging the stakes of this instant before closing his fingers around the handle as delicately as possible. But as soon as he touched the wand, he dropped it, hissing in pain.

“Ouch!”

He pulled back suddenly, feeling heat coursing in his hand. The wand had become hot under his fingers.

“How disconcerting…” was the reaction of the shop owner in his usual jaded voice. “but I shouldn’t be surprised… given your… state…”

“Keep your remarks in your putrid head of yours, Grimard,” Noctua growled. “Another one..”

“Whatever a Gaunt desires.” the old man grumbled with a hint of annoyance this time. He went to search his shelves a few meters from them, then came back with another open box to Ominis.

“Core of Veela hair and ebony wood.”

Hesitantly, Ominis took the wand as lightly as he could. The few uneventful seconds that followed filled his heart with hope, but suddenly, the wand began to thrash violently in his hand. It managed to slip out of his grip and he heard it cut through the air until it embedded itself in the wall with a sharp sound.

The keeper grumbled and walked away without saying a word, his steps sounding a little more impatient. Ominis heard him ranting a bit as he struggled to remove the wand from the wall. He opened his hand and felt a slight sore forming across his palm.

Was this supposed to be the trial submitted by the wand?

“Do not worry, Ominis,” his aunt told him upon seeing the worry on his face. “There is bound to be a wand that will answer back.”

  A third wand was placed in front of him. He repeated the same gesture and took it. This time the wand showed no reluctance at being held. But Ominis had grown weary of these seemingly encouraging signs.

The wand in his hand didn’t feel special at all. He felt more connected to the old training wand at his aunt's home rather than the one he currently has in hand. He could have picked up a stick from the ground that it wouldn’t have felt any different.

  "What are you waiting for ? Cast a spell!” the man suddenly shouted.

Ominis jumped on his feet at the booming voice and did the only thing he could think of. He waved the wand in front of him and pronounced Itero Ominis . Just as he expected the wand to repeat the last words he prononced, he froze in terror at the loud cracking noise that followed. It didn't come from the floor or anywhere else in the room. It came from the wand itself, which had splitted in two.

“ For Slytherin's sake, what are you doing?” Grimard said angrily, his deep voice breaking with irritation.

Ominis had no answers to give him. He just shook his head feeling at a loss, his mouth opening and closing without any words coming out. How come ? This spell was one of the few he mastered best.

The man grabbed what was left of the wand, cursing that he had wasted an item, then walked away again, his previous slowliness completely gone. Ominis dropped his hand and clenched his fists. He didn't understand what he had to do. First, he almost got burned by the wand, then another had fled his grip like he was the plague and now this one had decided to destroy itself rather than having him as its master. Was this really a test, or just blatant evidence of his incompetence?

“I strongly advise you to stay in your place, Grimard.” Noctua threatened, getting tired of the man's behavior. “Ominis, pull yourself together.” she then said to the boy. “I know it can be difficult, but you will prove yourself. Just be patient.”

Ominis wanted to hold on to these words as best he could, but with each wand presented to him, the results were as disappointing as before. Some wand’s reactions were known to him, or completely new. One of them had even vanished, nowhere to be found. He lost track of how many wands had rejected him. 

“Me too, it took me a while before one accepted me.” his aunt kept reassuring him. “The whole family had their wand here. I don’t see any reason why it would be different for you.” In view of the results, Ominis could not help but grow deaf to her encouragement.

“Such a name, such a heritage… what a waste…” the man would sometimes grumble as low as he could, probably to avoid being heard by the lady, but never expecting the boy's overdeveloped hearing to catch on his words.

Alas, after countless tries, and despite putting all the willpower he could into accepting what wand was offered to him,  none had reciprocated. Ominis wanted the humiliation to stop. To go back to his room in that damn manor and never hear about it again.

He has grown very annoyed of the man’s comments at every of his failure.

“Do you even try ?”

“You are not making it work…”

“Never seen this in my 60 years of career…”

As if the situation couldn't get any worse, the door suddenly opened behind them. Marvolo rushed into the store, the door hitting the wall with the force of the movement.

"It’s been three hours. Three hours into the meeting and still no one outside Mulpepper's. I never thought you would be quick for this, but still no wand after such a delay, that’s a disgrace.” he said through gritted teeth.

“Mr. Gaunt!” stammered the keeper.

Marvolo moved on heavy and confident steps, but he wasn’t going toward Grimard, to the great astonishment of the latter. Instead, he stood straight in front of Noctua, towering over her.

“Let’s put an end to this joke. He had missed his chance. There is no way you expect me to endure more hours of this humiliation. It's not worthy of a Gaunt. We're going home."

“Marvolo, wait!”, Noctua implored, taking a step towards the man as he was turning back to the door. “This is too important. I promised Ominis a wand and that is a promise I cannot leave unfulfilled.”

“Let him use a second-hand wand, if that’s the only thing fit for him.” he retorted, turning sharply towards her. “No doubt Hogwarts will be able to provide it for him.”

Ominis closed his eyes in shame, a long-suppressed tear falling down his cheek.

“Give us a little more time, please,” his aunt begged.

“The coach won’t wait. And neither will I. Keep subjetting yourself to this nonsense if you’re that desperate, but I want you back tonight before nightfall, am I clear?”

And without waiting any answer, Marvolo turned on his heels and slammed the door behind him.

Noctua stayed silent a few seconds, during which Grimard had gone back to rummaging through his shelves, before she grabbed Ominis by the hand and headed towards the door as well.

"Where do you think you’re going ?" said Grimard, taken aback.

“Clearly you don’t have what he needs.”

"How dare you ? he answered, his deep voice rumbling in his throat. “Generations that the Gaunts have been supplying in my shop, I will not allow this to change today!” he continued, getting down from his stepladder. “It would be a disgrace to your name.”

“I am here on behalf of my nephew, not on behalf of my family or its name.” she replied curtly. “Come, Ominis, we are leaving.”

“Mr Gaunt will hear from this, you can be sure of that !” cursed Grimard while pointing at her, but she just slammed the door in his face.

 

 

In 40 years of career at Diagon Alley, the designated place in London to find magic supplies for school, Ephraim Ollivanders remembered all the wands he had ever sold. Every one of them. He remembered them as well as the names and faces of the wizards who had passed through his door, in search of their precious wand. Little did he know that on this day, he would witness a scene that would become one of his most cherished memories.

A few hours before he could call it a day, a distinguished-looking woman showed up at his shop, a few shopping bags around one arm, the hand of a young boy closed around the other. Many of his customers like to end their day of magical shopping by getting a wand, he thought, although the wand was usually the first thing on the shopping list of young wizards.

By their look, he quickly understood they were from a very prosperous family. He rarely gets visited by them, as wealthy wizard families usually had a dedicated wand supplier for generations. But when he saw how somber the woman's expression was and the sadness in the boy's dull eyes, he could only guess the reason of their presence in his shop, the only wand shop on Diagon Ally.

“Welcome to Ollivanders, maker of magic wands since 382 BC.” he greeted them enthusiastically, once they had fully entered.

Noctua greeted him and invited Ominis to do the same.

“A wand for the young man, then !” said Ephraim, without needing to ask, hoping that his good attitude would lighten the boy’s disappointed face. Ominis saw the man's efforts for his sake, but he could not spare him a smile.

"Now, now. No long faces on this special day. No one leaves my shop without a smile, and a wand, for that matter !”

“I’m afraid you will be disappointed.” Ominis told him in a weak voice, lowering his dull eyes in shame.

“Ah ! If I sold all my wands on the first try, I would be a very disappointed man indeed! What satisfaction would I get from my job if it was so, hm?”

This unexpected answer made Ominis momentarily mute.

“Even the greatest wizards have been turned down by the first wands presented to them. And as the experienced wand maker I am, you would rather have it this way, believe me. Those whose first choice was the only one generally turn out to be greedy, self-satisfied, not to say imbued minds. And I’m talking as much about the wielder as I am about the wand!” he said, laughing.

Ominis lifted his head a bit toward the man, his interest piqued.

“In life, choosing to take shortcuts rarely bears the best results. Proof is, Grimard fell into the trap.”

Ominis couldn't stop his eyebrows to jump in surprise.

"How…?" he stammered.

“The wand market is not as big as one might imagine, my boy. You end up knowing your competitor's customer list almost better than your own!”

“Mr Ollivanders, you are even as perceptive as I was told you’d be.” Noctua said in a positively surprised voice. Ominis appreciated hearing the lightness back in his aunt's voice.

"Giving the same type of wand as the other members of your family was the easiest choice, but not the wisest," Ollivanders continued. “Grimard did not honor his profession. Should be time for him to retire, if you ask me." he teased.

Ominis heard him lean in front of him through the rustle of his clothes and the closeness of his gentle voice.

“When choosing a wand, the secret does not lie in the interpretation of what surrounds you, such as your family environment, but in what defines you!” he asserted, his finger gently resting on the boy's chest. At the sight of the tiniest smile forming on the boy’s face, Ollivanders couldn't suppress a laugh.

 “As I always say, every wizard, and by extension every wand, is special. So how about we get your wand, hm?"

Ominis nodded, regaining hope.

Mr. Ollivanders then led them over to the counter, where he began rummaging through the shelves behind him.

“Wands are fussy little things but (he paused to climb onto one of his ladders), as tedious as finding the right one can be, the end reward is always worth the hassle ! It would be a shame to stop digging when the treasure is only a few shovels away, wouldn't it?”

Ominis heard him land with both feet on the wooden floor.

“Let's start with this one.”

Ominis did the s ame as before and accepted all the wands presented to him. The results weren’t as good as he had hoped, but the bitterness was easier to swallow here than in between the creaking walls of Grimard & Son’s shop, especially with a much more comforting salesman. He also felt better from the way the wands responded : none did with as much violence as the previous ones. Some would just hop out of his hand, others teleport back to their box or just remained silent.

Ominis was doing his best not to lose the little hope Ollivanders had been able to revive in him. But the more time passed, the more he felt it waver.

At some point, Ollivanders went deep into the aisles of his shop in search for the next wand, when Ominis picked up a surprised gasp coming from the man, just before he heard his steps led him even deeper into the store.

Ominis listened, but Ollivanders didn't seem to be handling wand boxes there this time. The few sounds he perceived rather reminded him of a pencil being removed from its pot. Ollivanders came back in their direction, his step long and thoughtful as he was mumbling to himself.

“How unexpected.”

"Odd indeed.”

"Could it be ?"

Even in front of them, it took him a few seconds, as if deep in thought, before speaking.

“I keep all the wands, even if they don’t sell. I know that all of them, without exception, have a role to play. A counterpart to meet and bond with. This one... is a wand that is not my creation, so I don't know what its characteristics are. As it has never shown the slightest sign of magic, I had removed it from sale and kept it in the back shop to study it along others, trying to understand them better. This is the first time I've seen it act like this. I’m sorry but it doesn’t have an associated box.”

Noctua didn't seemed bothered by that and proceed to describe the wand to Ominis. She told him its polished texture glinted beautifully and that it was as black as night. But then she highlighted the red glow that was emanating from its tip. This was the part that had aroused Ollivanders' curiosity, as it seemed to him that the closer he had gotten to Ominis, the more the glow had intensified.

“A wand is still a wand. Have a try, my boy.”

In that moment, it was as if Ominis had never interacted with the hundred wands he had been presented with all day. He felt overcome with pure excitement and apprehension, similar to what he had felt upon receiving his admission letter.

He took the strange glowing wand between his fingers, his breath bated.

At first, nothing happened.

When suddenly, as Ollivanders was about to take it back from him with a shrug, he let out a stunned breath. The tip of the wand had begun to flash and emit red waves intermittently.

Ominis' eyes widened. In his head, outlines of strange shapes were emerging. First a floor under him, then two silhouettes around him and finally walls a few meters away, all of this kept vivid every few seconds.

First, he was petrified by the shock. But then, he suddenly felt like infused with new energy. His astonishment turned to sheer amazement when he pointed the wand at his upraised hand and could discern the exact number of fingers he was holding outstretched. This convinced him that the wand was drawing a new image of the world around him in his mind, with each of its pulses, waves after waves.

 

 

He began to wave his wand above his head, moving it around him. His cautious steps gained confidence as he began to wander around the store, guided by the wand’s echoes. All around him, the walls consisted of huge bookshelves full of countless small flat boxes. The ceiling was much higher than he'd thought based on the acoustics of the room, ladders rising so high that he could not detect the end of them, this extraordinary wand having its limits.

Ominis hasn’t felt his tears flowing on his cheek. But when the figure of his aunt reappeared as he turned towards her, he could not contain a powerful wave of sobs. She also seemed on the verge of tears, her hands closed around her mouth and her breathing ragged with emotion. In a few staggering steps, Ominis threw himself into her arms and hugged her as tightly as he could.

“Oh, my aunt! I can see you !"

“Ominis, I… It’s incredible… What a wonderful moment...” she replied, sobbing too.

“Thank you.. thank you, my aunt...”

  He touched her face, tracing the curve of her cheeks and the bridge of her nose as if to make sure the image projected in his head matched what his fingers were telling him. As if to convince himself that he wasn't in a dream, when a loud sniffling came from behind him.

“Oh, Merlin's beard…” Ollivanders said, fighting with his pocket to pull out his handkerchief. “To see this wand, of all, finally finding its master, in a person like you, it’s…what a momentous day!”

He blew his nose loudly, under which Ominis could now make out a large mustache. A little higher up, a monocle was wedged into his eye socket.

“30 years of patience for this wand to finally find its owner. Oh, this is overwhelming!” he blubbered, before attempting to regain his professionalism. “I’ve never seen a wand behave like this. I received it from an old friend living in Glastonbury, in America, a long time ago. He was convinced he would never sell it, so he challenged me. But I was as unsuccessful as he was for all these years.”

Noctua had gotten up and was wiping away her last tears with the side of her hand.

“Mr. Ollivanders, this is exactly the wand he needed. Oh, how I wish it will help him for what is to come…” she said, sniffing discreetly.

"I wouldn’t worry, ma'am. This is proof of its unexpected potential and their meeting is no coincidence, I am convinced of that. The wand will listen to him, just as he already seems to be listening to it. A wand is always a reflection of its wielder.”

He lowered himself to Ominis' level and took his hands, which were clinging tightly to the wand as if in fear of it being suddenly taken away.

“My boy, everything has its place in this world, as your hands are now the place of this unique wand. Your wand. With it guiding you, I am sure you will find your place too.”

Ominis nodded vigorously, squeezing his eyes tightly to contain the flood of tears.

“How much is it ? Noctua then asked him, aware she was shortening this moment of pure happiness but concerned of the time running out.

"I told you, my dear lady, this wand is not for sale." Ollivanders replied, a smile on his lips.

It  took her a few seconds before answering. “Oh no, I need to insist!”

But Ollivanders was already inviting them to the door, which he kindly held open for them.

“I get to announce the wonderful news to my old friend, and that is the best prize I could have asked for.”

 

 

Notes:

Noctua Gaunt - 1885

Noctua is Marvolo Gaunt's sister and Ominis' aunt. She is a renowned witch who commands the respect of the rest of the family despite diverging from most of their values. She is a renowned botanist and plays a major part for the Gaunt Magical Botanical Ingredient Company run by her brother. Her role is to unsure the good health of their cultivation. She has traveled in many places wordwilde to bring back new species of plant and study them. She has been taking care of Ominis for 6 years now, living in her own cottage a few hours away of Manor Gaunt.

Chapter 4: Wisdom of a snake

Notes:

Also available in French.

It took me a while, but here it is ! Oh my, I go carried away with the illustrations ! Someone help me, it might be the norm for the rest of the fic haha.
Of course, as the author of the drawing, please do not repost without credit (nexeliam.tumblr.com) or reuse my illustrations without my permission. Thank you !

I wish you a good reading !

 

CHAPTER 4 - Wisdom of a snake

 

In possession of this extraordinary wand, Ominis laid in his bed, unable to sleep. His mind was still processing the amount of information he gained from his day in London, as well as those he was constantly fed from his sentient wand. Now able to discern his surroundings, he had rediscovered the old bedroom as if he'd never entered it before. Although he had spent many hours fumbling and feeling around its content, what had always been beyond the reach of his fingers had suddenly revealed itself to him.

As he analyzed his surroundings, he became increasingly aware of the capabilities as well as the limitations of his wand. Therefore, after discovering the unsuspected number of paintings mounted on the bedroom walls, he had unfortunately realized that his wand had been unable to read their contents, which remained mere empty surfaces. He was also disappointed to realize that he couldn't make out the contents of his book either, except for the matte surface of its pages. However, he forgot these mishaps as soon as he realized he could detect the countless accessories stored in the dresser drawers, and could count his own clothes in his wardrobe, without even needing to open them. 

Surprises were piling up and he had soon discovered that the room was far more cluttered than he'd first thought. The tops of the wardrobes were laden with all sorts of things, such as crates, small pieces of furniture, utensils of any sorts and the remains of a plant with jagged branches, no doubt some botanical relics of his aunt. Since he no longer lived there (nor could he see anything), his family seemed to have used the room to store, if not dump, their unwanted possessions, despite the existence of a huge attic and no doubt an equally huge cellar.

Finally, there was the ceiling. It was a marvel to withstand, with its immense chandelier draped in fine crystals (so that's what tinkled when the windows were wide open) and its innumerable engravings and motifs forming the body of what he guessed to be an immense snake surging from among waves. Being none other than the ancestral emblem of the Gaunt family, it was the only animal whose appearance was not a mystery to the boy. 

His contemplation of the ceiling had more than once been interrupted by the memory of his day in London, a day unlike any he'd experienced before. From its uncomfortable beginning at Knockturn Alley, its consecration in Ollivanders' store, to its eventful conclusion when it had been time to return to the manor. 

The return journey had indeed been an adventure in itself. It had come as no great surprise to discover that the carriage had left without them, Marvolo no doubt the only one on board. But as he was no longer there to castigate its use, they took the liberty to travel using fireplaces network. To do so, they had to get back to Diagon Alley to make a last-minute purchase of Floo powder, an indispensable resource that turns designated chimneys into portals of sorts. Ominis hadn't been inconvenienced about missing the carriage at all. Quite the contrary, as he much preferred to travel with his feet steady on the ground rather than hundreds of meters in the air, and this had also been his chance to enjoy once again the pure sensory spectacle that was Diagon Alley.

Although Gaunt Manor had no shortage of fireplaces with its countless rooms, none of them were suitable for travel. Marvolo had always refused to connect them to the network to the Department of Magical Transport, for, he claimed, privacy reasons. Even if locking spells existed, it was a precaution he insisted on keeping, having no desire for a stranger to emerge from between the flames claiming to have mispronounced their true destination.

The fireplace that was used to travel to and from Diagon Alley  was situated not too far from Ollivanders' store, wedged between the walls of a bookshop and a Quidditch equipment shop (some kind of wizard sport, as Ominis had asked his aunt).

Once in the chimney’s hearth, they had each taken a handful of their Floo powder, then clearly pronounced "Little Hangleton" as they threw it at their feet. A cloud of green flames had then engulfed them and carried them into the chimney of an old ruin not far from the enunciated village.

Many traveling chimneys were set up in innocuous places like this one, which was implanted a few yards off the path. This precaution was designed to keep them out of sight of the Muggles as they sometimes were passing through Little Hangleton. And Ominis also knew, from repeated readings of " Muggle's Daily Life ", that they were not accustomed at all to seeing people emerge from between the flames. 

So when cries of astonishment had risen as they had emerged from the fireplace, Ominis had quickly understood. Two Muggles had been standing not far from their position and had witnessed their arrival. Their reaction, however, had been disconcerting to say the least.

"Don't move! In the name of the law!" one of them had shouted, causing the pair to freeze in place. These two men hadn't been just any Muggles. He and his aunt had come face to face with policemen.

 

 

 

But the man hadn't had time to say anything else, as Noctua's voice had sounded, first preceded by the sharp whistle of her wand in the air. 

"Obliviate!"

The moment of pure silence that had followed was strange, as if suspended in time. The spell had rendered both men momentarily mute, until one of them was able to speak again, in a completely natural tone.

"Good evening, madam. You shouldn't venture too far from the path. The shores of the lake aren't safe these days."

At these words, Ominis had sworn he had felt his aunt's hand stiffen around his.

"Of course, Officer," she had simply replied, before hastily leaving, dragging her nephew along with a tight grip.

The scene had reminded Ominis of the man of the relic at Knockturn Alley, whom her aunt had threatened to erase the memory. Ominis knew her aunt was gifted with this type of spell, for before becoming a renowned botanist, she had worked at the Ministry of Magic, more specifically, in the Department of Magical Accidents and Catastrophes. It was known for keeping the wizarding world a secret, and it often involved erasing all traces of magical accidents that had occurred in the presence of Muggles from their memories.

This was the first time Ominis had witnessed the spell in person.

"Was it alright to have used that spell on them ?" he had hastened to ask in a worried tone.

"Don't worry. I no longer work for the Ministry, but I still have the authorization." 

Ominous hadn’t been worried about any authorization, he had just felt very uncomfortable for the men, even though his aunt had simply erased the image of their arrival from their minds.

After a few moments of picking their way through the woods, they had returned to the path and finally took the road to the manor.

Another question had been nibbling at him the whole time and he almost didn’t dare ask it, in the face of his aunt's sudden stiffness and haste.  

"What do you think those two policemen were doing, off the trail?"

After several seconds of silence, the answer he got had been surprisingly simple.

"They were investigating."

His aunt had then leaned towards him to gently lower his wand. Ominis had indeed never stopped waving it in front of him to guide him, so he quickly understood that her gesture was a precaution as the first passers-by had begun to cross their paths.

Even with the wand up his sleeve, Ominis had managed to pick up on his immediate surroundings, and had quickly found himself drawn into them. He marveled at the stone walls that ran alongside the path, the piles of (unfortunately indecipherable) directional signs posted at every intersection, the outline of the trees above their heads as well as the silhouette of other passers-by.

Everything around him had been an object of distraction. Interpreting shapes was like learning a whole new language. But as for every new location he found himself strolling through,  his hearing had also been overwhelmed.

This impromptu visit to the village had been a great opportunity to gather information about the manor's surroundings. After all, news from the outside was a rare commodity for Ominis. He could still hear the words of passers-by echoing in his head.

"...allergic to owl feathers... just my luck!"

"...still not ready for the festival..."

"...giant creature would have eaten them! How grotesque..."

"...must listen to me .... once!"

Back in his bed, Ominis suddenly opened his eyes.

That last voice... It wasn't part of his memory.

It had come from the first floor, from where he heard a second voice emerge immediately afterwards. Although muffled, he recognized them as his father’s and aunt’s. He sat up abruptly, suddenly worried for her. Had Grimard told his father about their hasty (and empty-handed) departure from his store? Or was she enduring his wrath for acquiring his wand from Ollivanders, a supplier open to customers of all origins?

Ominis couldn't have asked for a better wand. He was convinced of that. But he couldn't let his aunt undergo his father's wrath for him, a feeling of guilt forcing him out of bed.

He waited until the image of the door was clearly drawn in his head before taking the first steps, his wand firmly clutched in his hand.

Behind the door, the corridor was apparently empty. Making sure he didn't make any noise, he carefully turned the handle and stepped into the doorway as soon as it was wide enough. He hated the idea of defying curfew, but his desire to find out the reasons behind this heated exchange - a rare occurrence within these walls - was stronger. Despite the carpet being thick enough to absorb the sound of his footsteps, just one heavy step and the floor could crack at any moment. After several long seconds of holding his breath, he reached the staircase banister, where the voices became clearer.

"You promised. Marvolo. You promised to stop this madness!"

Ominis frowned. He hadn't expected his aunt to be the chastising one, a role all too often assumed by his father.

"You're not the one who's going to dictate what happens in this mansion," the latter scolded then, his voice echoing off the walls. "I could force you to live there again, be grateful I'm not changing my mind."

Noctua seemed to be running out of patience, her heels tapping the floor with an agitated step.

"The night of the escape wasn't enough for you? The Gaunt family is much better than that..." She seemed on the verge of tears. "With these actions, you're exposing it to debacle just as much as my mistake at the greenhouse."

Ominis blinked. The subject of this mysterious discussion had never been his wand, to his relief. However, his concern was soon replaced by confusion. The night of the escape? The mistake at the greenhouse? He wanted to go back to his room, as he had no business to be here any longer, but his curiosity got the better of him. He was so intrigued that he failed to sense the small presence approaching him. A faint but grumbling voice suddenly sounded behind him,  making him jump on the spot.

"The young master has no business here, up at this hour."

It was Grumpy, the oldest of their house elves and Ominis's least favorite, for he was the servant the most devoted to his father.

 

 

 

The idea of lying had never appealed to Ominis, but he liked even less the idea of the elf understanding, and above all, reporting to his father that he had been eavesdropping on the conversation.

"I... I was thirsty, but I didn't think I'd still be afraid to go down the stairs."

Even if the moment wasn't the most opportune, Ominis marveled at being able to see the elf's big eyes crinkle as he was being studied. The elf finally grumbled, apparently convinced by his lie. His crumpled fingers gripped the sleeve of his nightshirt and soon he was being led back to his room, with the promise of a whole jug of water.

How Ominis wished it had been Putsy who had surprised him. No doubt he wouldn't have gone back to bed with more questions than answers. It was as if the incredible day spent in London had vanished behind a screen of doubt and incomprehension. And as was often the case within these walls, he drifted off into a restless sleep, plagued by the image of a bolt of lightning striking him.

 

 

The two weeks leading up to his entry at Hogwarts had passed in a flash. But it had been plenty of time for Ominis to get used to his wand. As he had been growing independent, he had stopped counting the times he had surprised the inhabitants of the manor, elves and humans alike, with his sudden autonomy (he had been careful not to show himself at ease on the stairs too quickly, not wanting to arouse old Grumpy's suspicions).

It wasn't long before Marvolo Jr and Theresia, true to themselves, overcame their appallment and began looking for a new way to torment their little brother, targeting that wand in particular as it was now sabotaging all their plans. But Ominis, used to their mischief and now armed against it, had managed to save his wand from snatching on more than one occasion. 

Day after day, his self-confidence had grown tenfold, now that he was no longer a slave to his environment and could at last be master of his actions. He and his wand had become inseparable, to the point he even took it with him to sleep.

His father's silence on the subject had been puzzling, to say the least. Although Ominis hadn't expected any compliments from him, the absence of reproach had been quite unexpected. At the thought of his wand shutting his father's mouth, Ominis couldn't help but feel proud. And his aunt had never failed to compliment him on a daily basis, inviting him to explore and rediscover the family estate, to his brother's apparent indifference. 

Ominis was convinced that this astonishing relaxation of certain rules towards him had been the fruit of his aunt's persuasion. The wand capabilities gave her all the good reasons to plead his cause,  and Ominis had quickly taken advantage of the opportunity. Which is why, on this last day of August, he was sitting on one of the stone benches in the garden at the back of the Manor. 

It was the eve of departure. Not knowing how to prepare, he had decided to try out some of his school supplies, beginning with his writing quill. With his blindness, one would think it was no easy task. However, his aunt had offered him alternatives he had been willing to try as soon as they bought them before going to Ollivanders, back at Diagon Alley. All he had to do was dictate his text to a quick-quotes quill, a flying pen which could transcribed his words onto a shouter paper, a tool whose primary purpose was to state its contents aloud, mostly used during public speeches. "I asked for the lowest volume!" had promised Noctua on the day of its purchase.

He had thus spent several hours dictating the story of his last few weeks to his quill and then commanded the paper with his wand to recite some excerpts to him. Hearing his own voice back amused him (being the original speaker) and reminded him of repeating spells such as Itero . Nevertheless, he longed to learn a spell that would enable him to read his books all by himself, if such a thing existed.

As the air grew cooler with the approach of evening, Ominis had an unexpected visitor. It was neither the sound of its movement nor the shape of its long and slender body weaving between the grasses that betrayed its presence, but its hissing voice close to his feet.

" Who-ss-e voi-ss-ce this-ss is? "

Ominis immediately pointed his wand at the owner of the voice, who was none other than a snake, its scaly body drawn up to knee height.

Speaking parselmouth, the language of snakes, was a gift all the Gaunts shared. Despite never having really practiced it in his life, Ominis could speak it on instinct and could answer the reptile with ease.

" For me to be out-ss-ide is a rare occurrence. " he replied, his words lacing through his lips. His body was still tense from the surprise. " Aren't you afraid to go near a human? "

" Never in thi-ss garden. " replied the snake quietly.

" What do you want from me? " Ominis enquired, pointing his wand at the snake. " Did my brother or si-ss-ter ss-end you to torment me? "

When it came to giving him a hard time, Marvolo and Theresia never lacked originality. Scarce had been the few times he spent outside free from traps or pranks. He remembered the time they unleashed a whole cage of pixies on him. These mischievous flying creatures had chased him all the way into the manor as he clutched at any wall he could, almost succeeded at making him fall down the stairs. On another occasion, when his aunt had been away for just a few minutes, they had infested the fountain he sat on with young dugbogs, foul amphibians who had lashed him with their tongues. 

Even though he knew his brother and sister were too busy preparing for school as well, he couldn't help feeling suspicious. There was nothing to stop them forcing Grumpy to carry out their mischief in their absence.

" What an unusual idea thi-ss is ," replied the snake, climbing onto the bench beside Ominis, who cautiously followed every of its movements with his wand.

" Everyone ex-ss-cept my aunt torment-ss me for their own amusement. " he asserted, a frowned expression on his face.

The snake settled quietly, its body curling around itself, before asking:

" Haven’t you got any friend-ss? "

At this question, Ominis' guard suddenly collapsed. He stood motionless for several seconds, considering the creature's words. Then he realized that in all his life, this was a question he'd never really asked himself.

" A friend...? "

" Ss-omeone you can count on as much as they can count on you. "

He thought then of his aunt. But could she be his friend, knowing she was already family? And Putsy? Could he consider her his friend? The concept was so foreign to him.

" Could you be my friend? "

" Don't be ss-o naive, I'm ju-ss-t a ss-nake. " the animal retorted, straightening up until its head was just inches from the boy’s face. Ominis couldn't suppress a backward movement.

" Your mind seem-ss too pliant… what if I was trying to coax you, to make you believe in fake intentions ? ” it hissed, “ but... I'd rather leave that to the human-ss. " It pulled away from the boy, earning a sigh of relief from him. " As alluring as friendship is, you mu-ss-t be warned as ss-ome people u-ss-e it as a tool for their own end-ss. Don't let your naiveté blind you. "

Ominis nodded. The irony might have drawn a small smile on his lips, but it was quickly wiped away as he gradually measured the extent of his ignorance. 

" A true friend is ss-omeone who accept-ss you for who you are. Who only want-ss you well and will help you, ss-ometimes even at the expen-ss-e of their own ss-afety or morals. "

Of all the people he knew, and there weren't many, only his aunt met such a definition. But did she counted on him as much as he counted on her? To this question, he couldn't help answering in the negative, because he had the feeling that she wasn't telling him everything. Two weeks after he'd overheard her arguing with Marvolo from the stairs, he'd wanted to ask her about the greenhouse, but had finally refrained, not wanting her to learn that he'd overheard their conversation. Still, did he need to know everything?

" How ab-ssurd, " he said with a sigh. " Even though I'm human, you ss-eem to know more about life than I do myself. The world is al-ss-o all around you to explore, as you've always been able to go wherever you pleased. A-ss-ide from this manor and my aunt's house, I don't remember being anywhere el-ss-e. It's as if my life was limited to these walls. Until two weeks ago, I didn't even know there was a lake near the village... "

Thinking back to his visit to the village, a question immediately formed in his head, causing him to straighten up on the bench.

" Tell me, ss-nake, " he inquired hesitantly, " did you happen to have cro-ss path with policemen while roaming around ? "

" Ye-ss. "

For some reasons, Ominis hadn't expected a positive answer.

" And... do you know why they're here? " he then hastened to ask.

" No ."

"Oh." said Ominis, slightly disappointed.

" They're human affair-ss. All I know is that they were here when I was just born. They nearly trampled our ne-ss-t. Then they left, only to return a few month-ss ago. "

Ominis listened to the snake's words very carefully, wanting to know more about what these two policemen were investigating. But the more he was thinking about it, the more he was telling himself that there was surely nothing to be alarmed about. As someone who had seen almost nothing of the outside world, a mundane event could quickly seem important and easy to exaggerate. 

A gust of wind brought him the sound of the house elves starting to work in the kitchen. The day was drawing to a close. He picked up his quill and paper, then addressed the snake one last time.

" Thank you for your visit. It taught me a lot and I realize how much I ss-till have to learn, about the world around me as much as about my-ss-elf. Tomorrow, everything will change. I'm leaving, I hope for the best. "

The snake said nothing as Ominis stood up and greeted him politely.

" You remind me of that very long vehicle I'll be boarding tomorrow, which my aunt told me about. A ss-team train, as the Muggles call it. We certainly won't meet again, but know that you helped me in more ways than many in this manor, and for that, I shall remember you as a friend. "

 

 

Notes:

Marvolo Junior Gaunt - 1885

Marvolo Jr is the older child of Marvolo Gaunt and Ominis' brother. He has been a student at Hogwarts for five years and is about to start a sixth year there. He is condescendant and sardonic, and never misses an opportunity to mock and torment his little brother with the complicity of his sister Theresia. He has great skills when it comes to combat spells, a talent that fits his belligerent personality.

Chapter 5: Parting ways

Notes:

Also available in French.

I hope you'll enjoy this chapter.
I wish you a good reading !

 

CHAPTER 5 - Parting ways

 

If Ominis thought the streets of London were noisy, the inside of St. Pancras station soon made him revise his judgment. With one hand clinging to his aunt and the other firmly clasped around his wand, he hurried with her, Marvolo Jr. and Theresia into the building's main hall. The air was as thick with sound as it was with coal dust. Travelers and workers alike made their way through the dense crowd, to the rhythm of whistles and steam jets. Not even Diagon Alley had been this busy. Their little troop walked along a dozen of platforms, too long for his wand to see, all separated by immense walls which supported a metal roof. Every detail, from the nuts puncturing the metal beams to the bricks making up the walls, gradually took shape in his mind as they neared their goal.

The platform they had to reach was not just any platform, for the Hogwarts Express was not just any train. It was a magical train, which only apprentice wizards could board, provided they had their tickets (all delivered by owl service the day before the journey). But before anyone could board, one had to find it, in the middle of this more than ordinary station. 

Obviously, to access this secret platform among the platforms, nothing could be more suitable than a magical passage, hidden in this case, within the wall separating platforms 9 and 10. If it hadn't been for his wand, surely Ominis wouldn't have cowered or held his breath as everyone around him rushed confidently straight towards the wall. But there was no impact, just a sudden change of atmosphere, similar to the feeling of moving from a shadowy place to a bright lit one. The next thing he knew, the wall was at his back and a huge, smoking, whistling locomotive stood proudly in front of him.

Marvolo and Theresia were already hurrying towards the various carriages, too eager to see their classmates from previous years than to take the time to greet their aunt, even less their little brother. They would have bid their father a proper farewell, but the latter had better things to do with his time than attending the departure of a train for the sixth time. Not wanting to rush her nephew, Noctua let them disappear into the crowd of students, as they had no heavy luggage to slow them down. It was customary for the family to invest in a delivery service for their baggage. They had them directly sent to the school, a luxury many couldn't afford. 

Noctua had only his nephew's ticket, a small suitcase containing basic necessities (a lunch for the journey, his coat and a spare of his wizard's uniform) and a third parcel that Ominis couldn't identify, but he was certain he heard it... hooting.

The rest of the sounds was hard to hear over the breathing of the imposing locomotive. On top of its enormous cylinder, a chimney emitted large puffs of steam, and at the front, on a curved sign, was written the name of the train in embossed letters. Only, Ominis wasn’t just able to make it out, he was awestruck to realize he could actually read it! Was his wand able to tell the words directly into his head, since he had never been able to see any writing at all? 

A whistle sounded from the platform, snapping him out of his thoughts as eager exclamations erupted from between the bricks behind them, a family rushing out of the magic passage towards the train, their carts laden with suitcases. They soon disappeared into the crowd in front of the first carriages. Some students were eager to board, forming numerous waiting lines, while others finished unloading their carts before embracing their loved ones.

Ominis suddenly turned to his aunt, struck by this reality he had found himself dreading the last couple of days.

"It's time." she said, a pained smile on her lips.

For Ominis, the idea of parting with her was almost inconceivable. And from his aunt's wavering voice, he wasn't the only one subjected to this dilemma.

The clock on platform 9 3/4 read ten to eleven. Only ten minutes separated Ominis from his new life, an unknown path to walk on with just his wand as his only guide. A life without Putsy and her boundless kindness and thoughtfulness. But above all, a life without Noctua to guide him, reassure him, advise him, love him. 

"Don't be sad," she told him as she saw the first tears forming in the boy's eyes. "Think of this as a new chapter. It is now you who has the pen in hand to write its contents." She had pointed his ebony wand at this last sentence.

"When can I talk to you again?" asked Ominis in a distressed voice. 

The answer has been unexpected as his aunt bought the mysterious parcel before her. It was a small cage covered with a veil, which she lifted gently as if not to disturb its occupant. Ominis brought his wand as close to the cage as possible, and suddenly saw two squinting eyes swivel towards him.

"Here is your parting gift. She’s yours."

"My... my own owl?" he stammered, transfixed by the bird looking at him with heavy eyelids, seemingly just roused from a nap.

"Yes. Thanks to her, we'll be able to correspond when you feel the need. Just remember to buy her a bigger cage when you're settled in. "

"Thank you!" sobbed Ominis as she hugged his aunt, hot tears streaming down his cheeks. "I'm going to miss you so much. And... what if I'm not up to it..."

"Don't talk nonsense. You've proved to the whole manor that you're capable of more than you know. Think about what Mr. Ollivanders said. It's about finding your place, and even if it's not easy, it's necessary. I'll try to answer each of your letters as soon as possible. I want you to know that even if we're separated by more than one horizon, you can count on my help. In return, can I count on you to give your best?"

With a damp face, Ominis pulled himself away from his aunt, nodding gently. He remembered the words of a certain snake at that moment. Someone you can count on as much as they can count on you.

"Don't forget, Mrs. Weasley will be there to greet you when you get off the train. I'm sure she'll be delighted to see how easily you can get around."

Another whistle sounded, but Ominis was rooted to the spot.

"Go, Ominis, or there won’t be any room left."

She hugged her nephew once more, then encouraged him towards the nearest car, where a line of students was still waiting to board.

 

 

Ominis took the cage by its ring, tucked his little case under his arm and pointed his wand forward, apprehensive to find himself in the middle of all these strangers on his own. The queue was shrinking at a very slow pace, so he took the opportunity to give his aunt a final embrace, as if it would give him the strength he lacked.

The locomotive was belching more and more steam, announcing its imminent departure. Almost all the students had now boarded, and as Ominis finally pulled himself up onto the first steps of the carriage, he turned around one last time, almost missing his aunt amidst the waving arms of the families left on the platform. 

"Write to me when you get there!" he recognized her voice. He spotted her silhouette among the shapes just in time, one right hand greeting him while the other wiped her nose.

The train suddenly rattled, forcing Ominis deeper into the carriage corridor as he tried to hold on to anything that was within reach. 

Despite being deserted, the corridor was immersed in a cacophony of laughter and cheerful voices from all the cabins on its left side. Now on his own, Ominis focused on his first task: finding a cabin to sit down in. 

The corridor bumped gently to the rhythm of the moving carriage. It felt strange, but the unstable floor was far from his first concern. Rather, he dreaded every cabin door he had to open, feeling like invading the privacy of its occupants to hear them say to him, "Sorry, we're full;" "Too late, it's taken!" "Maybe next time!" Even though he was now sustaining the consequences, Ominis wouldn't have traded the last few seconds spent with his aunt for anything in the world. 

The train had been moving for several minutes before he finally managed to find a cabin to settle into. Surprisingly, there were only two occupants inside, but Ominis soon realized why. They seemed to be arguing, and as soon as he slid the door open, a stench assaulted his nostrils. 

The two passengers, a girl and a boy about his age, paused at the sudden opening of their cabin. But before Ominis could say anything, the girl shouted at him:

"Don't just stand there! Close that door quickly before the smell spreads all over the train!"

Ominis could only comply, not understanding what was going on but deciding to enter anyway. He didn't know if he could find another vacant cabin and decided not to risk it any further.

"How could you be so stupid !” the girl resumed her ranting to her neighbor, who was scraping the side of his coat with some kind of handkerchief. “Throwing yourself on the seat with your pockets full of Gobstones!" 

"I had no choice, I'd forgotten to pack them and Uncle Solomon had already loaded the suitcases. Try opening one of the windows instead of complaining!" retorted the boy, who was still struggling to clean up what Ominis guessed was the source of the stench.

He listened to his new traveling companions as he made his way to the opposite seat shown by his wand. He didn't know what Gobstones were, but he curiously didn't want to find out, his nose scrunched up with disgust. He placed the cage on the seat and was about to do the same with his briefcase when the girl called out to him again.

"There's storage above you, if you prefer." she offered, struggling with the window handle.

Ominis nodded awkwardly, then placed his cage and briefcase onto the rack, before sinking into the bench seat. The cushion was so soft he practically bounced on it.

"You haven't been to Feldcroft before, have you?" the boy suddenly asked as he stood up to pull a spare coat from one of his suitcases. The idea of cleaning the nauseating stain seemed to have been totally abandoned.

"I... don't know this place." replied Ominis, clearly not used to complete strangers being so friendly to him.

"Sebastian!" said the girl indignantly. "Before questioning people, you should introduce yourself, don’t you think ? Talk about rude."

"Sorry, he just reminded me of someone, that's all!"

"Ignore my twin, he's a idiot. Ah, finally!" said the sister, managing to wrench the window open. Everyone took a few seconds to relish on fresh air again. "By the way, my name's Anne."

"And I’m Sebastian. What's your name?"

"My name is Ominis. Ominis Gaunt."

A pause followed, during which Ominis didn't notice the discreet glance the two exchanged. However, those few seconds of silence seemed endless.

"And... what's this little owl's name?" resumed the girl, pointing to the rack above him. Ominis was taken aback by the question. He hardly had time or even thought to name his owl, but sensing a sudden shift in mood in the cabin, he racked his brains to provide her with a suitable answer and keep their conversation going.

"Her name is... er... her name is..."

Being a gift from Noctua, the name of the goddess of the night seemed an obvious one. "Nyx. Yes, her name is Nyx."

"That's lovely."

The train lurched into a tunnel, the sound of screeching rails invading the cabin as the conversation seemed to have reached its end point. Ominis couldn't explain the sudden silence from the twins, who had been so talkative until now. It was his first time being around other people his age, so their sudden change in their behavior might just be a normal occurrence. As brother and sister, they might know each other well enough to have much to talk about. However, one thing was certain: his name seemed to have stirred something.

Any attempt to rekindle this lost conviviality was put aside when his wand showed Sebastian taking a book out of his suitcase and Anne turning to the window, her chin resting in the palm of her hand. As someone who hated attracting attention, he had no trouble understanding these signs, and resigned himself to finding something to pass the time.

 

 

The rest of the journey was very quiet, and very long. Occasionally, the twins would exchange a few words, but nothing that would spark a new discussion. "Look at all those cows!" exclaimed Anne after an hour. "How much time before we arrive?" had asked Sebastian as he'd just finished his book. "Have you seen his wand?" had then whispered Anne.

Although he would have loved to elaborate on the matter, Ominis had refrained from doing so, just as he had not dared to participate in their rare talks, fearing to trigger even more discomfort with his words.

According to his wand, Sebastian was a little taller than his sister and his rebellious hair was the opposite of his own, which he always kept neatly straightened. Anne, on the other hand, wore her hair in a bun and her forehead was covered with neatly cut bangs. What the wand didn't show, however, was that both had freckled faces and shared the same dark brown hair.

Ominous saw they both had put on their wizard coats. His own coat was tucked away in his briefcase, now out of reach, but he didn't dare search for it, as if he feared his movements would desecrate some kind of harmony. At this moment, Ominis would have given anything for his wand to help him interact with these people as much as it did with his environment. Alas, seemed there was no magic trick for that.

Halfway through the journey, the door to their cabin opened and an old lady poked her head in, pushing a cart of candies and goodies of all sorts.

"Would you like anything, children?... Oh, by Merlin!" she exclaimed, fanning her hand under her nose, "you'd think a troll was in there!"

Ominis declined the offer with a shake of his head. He'd lost his appetite (he'd even forgotten about the snack in his briefcase). He couldn't tell if this was due to the few smelly traces still in the air. The other two didn't take anything either, as they too had brought something to eat.

The more hours passed, the more Ominis became anxious about what was to come. All he knew was that Mrs. Weasley would be waiting for him on the platform and that, once at Hogwarts, he would be placed in one of the school's four great houses. The Gaunts had always been sorted in the same house, the one founded by their ancestor, Slytherin. In light of recent events, such as his choice of wand, and the ambiguous place within his own family, he feared that he would be the first to break tradition (and become even more of a disgrace to his family than he already was). In fact, more than being sent to the wrong house, he was mostly terrified by his brother and sister's reaction. As Hogwarts students themselves, that would mean walking the same halls trying to evade their constant blaming.   

He pulled this thought away, wondering instead if his luggage had arrived safely, worrying about his book on Muggles as well as his quick-quotes quill and shouter paper, now his most precious possessions (along with Nyx). Having enough of his constant worrying, he forced himself to concentrate on the sounds and movements of the train around him, as it rounded a bend or crossed a bridge. Lulled by the repetitive pitching of the cabin, Ominis eventually drifted off into a dreamless sleep. 

 

 

He was awakened by a hand gently patting his shoulder.

"Here we are."

It was Anne's voice, leaning over him. Ominis sat up suddenly, frantically searching for his wand which had slipped onto the seat. He realized he'd slept through the rest of the journey, for the train was indeed at a standstill, the sound of the cooling locomotive echoing in the distance. Sebastian was at the door, luggage in hand, trying to squeeze through the line of students who had crowded into the corridor, all very eager to disembark. 

Ominis rubbed his eyes, then retrieved his owl and briefcase before having to force his way through to reach the exit.

After a few laborious minutes in the crowded corridor, he finally set foot on the platform. The air was chilly, so it must have been evening already. 

He took out his coat and put it on, before setting off in search of Mrs. Weasley. The platform was full of people and he didn't know where to start amidst the hundreds of silhouettes moving around him, briefly wondering where Sebastian and Anne had gone. All these movements and voices confused him until, at last, like a beacon above the general clamor, he heard someone call his name.

"Mr Gaunt? Mister... Ah, there you are!"

He recognized the same voice from his admission letter.

“I hope you had a good trip aboard the Hogwarts Express!” a woman said to him when she managed to get to him. “My name is Matilda Weasley and I am Deputy Headmistress at Hogwarts. You can call me Mrs. Weasley.”

She offered him her hand but was about to withdraw it as soon as she realized her mistake, when Ominis returned her gesture.

"Nice to meet you." he said, shaking her hand.

“Oh, I see you already seem quite independent! Marvelous! You are full of surprises.”

“T-Thank you, ma’am.” he answered, trying to properly react, still not used to warms welcome. “I wanted to thank you for the Reciter letter.”

“No need! It's not every day that we welcome a wizard like you to our school! Please know that if you need anything for your comfort during your schooling, I am more than willing to arrange it for you.”

"Thanks for your consideration." stammered Ominis, scratching the back of his neck. “At the moment I think I can continue on my own. I just need to keep my wand in hand. I hope this is no problem?”

"Not at all ! You are here at Hogwarts, where on the contrary, we encourage our students to practice their magic as much as possible, as long as it does not cause any damage or harm, that goes without saying!” she said with a melodious laugh. “If all is fine on your end, then I’ll go back to the rest of the group. If you need anything, come find me!”

Ominis already loved this lady very much. She reminded him of a slightly more eccentric version of his aunt. In any case, he found himself much more comfortable in her presence than with Phineas Black, his father's close friend, the very rare times he had encountered him at the manor. His father's contempt for the Weasleys seemed unfounded in that moment. Just another thing opposing them.

Mrs. Weasley walked away and addressed all the passengers waiting on the platform.

“Welcome to Hogsmeade Station! I invite all First Years to come this way! For the others, please head towards the end of the platform, where carriages to Hogwarts await you.”

The crowd movement intensified in the direction indicated, with the exception of a group of students who quickly came to surround Mrs. Weasley as well as another person.

“This is Mr. Moon, the guardian of our school. As is customary for all our First years, you will reach Hogwarts by the lake. Please follow Mr. Moon’s to the piers. As for me, I will see you again at the Sorting ceremony.”

“First years, please follow me!” Mr Moon then called in a high-pitched voice, an enormous lantern in his hand.

The piers? Ominis had never been in a boat in his life and the few times he had swum could be counted on the fingers of his hand. The carriages seemed a more preferable choice, but to his great regret, Mrs. Weasley had already left.

Ominis forces himself to follow the crowd. If he had to adapt to this new life, now was not the time for these kinds of whims, he chastised himself. At the end of the platform, a whole series of stairs awaited him. He could not see the end of them as the slope was very steep. His wand firmly in hand, he tried to keep up, although he preferred to stay cautious. He would gladly prefer to get down in one piece. He was also careful not to shake Nyx's cage too much, the little owl fidgeting on its perch with each step he underestimated the height.

After several minutes of descending the hill, the group finally reached the shores of the lake, Ominis having managed not to get too left out. His lantern up, Mr. Moon was waiting for them in front of wooden piers where dozens of small boats were lined up.

"Everybody made it? Splendid! Now I want four students on each boat. And no jostling! Let’s hurry!”

Little by little, the group separated as the boats were boarded. Ominis felt uncertain but did not have much to say as Mr. Moon soon led him towards one of the last vacancies. His hands full, he left a surprised cry escaped him when the boat suddenly rocked under his weight.

"Careful !" said the passenger opposite, grabbing his arm.

Ominis didn't like being grabbed most of the time, but he was grateful for it. “T-thank you.”

“Call me Cressida.”

“And I’m Poppy!” the girl at the front suddenly said.

“Amit,” said the third passenger, raising his hand, in an accent Ominis had never heard before.

“O-Ominis.” he answered them simply.

The boat set off and their journey across the lake began. They seemed to move forward of their own accord, oscillating slowly on the undisturbed surface of the lake. The feeling was strange but much more pleasant than the harshness of a flying carriage.

The more the boats progressed, the more he heard amazed breathing around him.

“It’s even bigger than I thought!” Cressida said in wonder.

“How long did it take to be built?” Poppy added in a stunned voice.

“And look at these constellations!” exclaimed the boy.

“That can’t be the best part, stupid!” Cressida then teased.

No matter how hard Ominis concentrated, the range of his wand was reaching its limits here. He couldn't join in their amazement, unable to admire the architectural spectacle that Hogwarts apparently was. However, he was soon gifted with an all different sort of spectacle.

Under their boat, a few meters from the surface, several unknown shapes moved. Ominis would have said “Look under your feet!” but it was obvious that no one other than him in the boat could see this strange underwater manifestation. The creatures followed their little boat convoy but seemed particularly attracted to theirs, for a reason that Ominis did not know.

 

 

At first frightened by their sudden appearance, he soon found himself captivated by their movements, their bodies moving through the water with grace and control, their long tails sometimes skimming the surface. The creatures dispersed as they approached the castle, when the lake lost depth and Ominis could once again detect the bottom. Even though he hadn't had the chance to admire the grandeur of Hogwarts and its immense towers under the moonlight, he felt happy to have witnessed something he didn't know very few had ever seen. 

 

 

Notes:

Matilda Weasley - 1885

Matilda Weasley is the current Deputy Headmistress at Hogwarts. Her role is to assist the current Headmaster, Phineas Nigellus Black, with administration tasks. She is the person who wrote the admission letter sent to Ominis. In addition, she is also teaching transfiguration at school. She is kindhearted and always catering to her students needs, so mush so that many regard her as one of the best teachers in Hogwarts.

Chapter 6: The sorting ceremony

Notes:

Also available in French.

Really sorry for the slow update! Unfortunaltely, publication time will likely stays this way for the rest of the story...
Anyway, I hope you'll enjoy this chapter, have a good reading !

 

 

  CHAPTER 6 - The Sorting Ceremony

 

Ominis was exhausted. Hands on his knees, he was catching his breath hoping that the worst was behind. When the boats had reached the other side of the lake, he had discovered that a new set of stairs were awaiting them, stairs to be climbed this time. The pain in his legs as he went up had him realizing that the castle was actually perched on a huge rock overlooking the Highlands. No wonder it had inspired so much wonder when they crossed the lake. And the climbing of these zigzagging stairs was almost as long as the crossing itself. As to forget the growing ache each step brought, Ominis had counted no less than six sets of stairs for a total of nine hundred and ninety-six steps before he and the group finally reached the castle walls.

He had set Nyx's cage at his feet as she had been squeaking all the way up from being shaken in his unsteady grip. Mr. Moon called out the few students in the back to hurry along and resumed his walking. They entered a large courtyard surrounded by an arched cloister, in which dozens and dozens of square shaped items were stored. Suitcases, Ominis realized. The students barely had time to catch a glimpse of the house elves handling the last of the luggage before they vanished with a snap of their fingers, as if to avoid being seen.

Ominis and a few others were invited to leave their hand luggage there (he was happy with himself when he managed to locate his delivered suitcase among the dozens piled up). As he put Nyx’ cage on top of it, he couldn’t suppress a twinge of regret, her disgruntled squeals echoing as he continued his journey through the corridors.

When the First years finally entered the castle, Ominis was greeted by a myriad of sensations. The evening cold was replaced by warm air, and all around them echoed the amplified sound of their footsteps on the polished stone. If it hadn’t been for these signs, he would still have thought he was outside. The space was so grand his wand was unable to discern the walls around him. Or was it some kind of magic trick ? Even St. Pancras station hadn't seemed so immense.

The students walked in silence, amazed by the unique architecture of the place. Although Ominis couldn't fully appreciate its grandeur or aesthetics, he was most impressed by its acoustics. The tall walls seemed capable of transforming every sound that bounced on them into a melodious echo. Around him, he could sense many faces turning like weathervanes in the wind, catching some of them as they seemed to linger on him and his wand. 

As they turned at yet another staircase, their destination finally showed itself. Two huge wooden doors stood before them, so tall Ominis thought they just reached the ceiling, whatever height it was. Slightly ajar, he could hear the muffled clamor of dozens, no, hundreds of people on the other side.

"Here we are !" announced Mr Moon, pivoting on his heels. "Behind this door awaits the Great Hall. It is the beating heart of this castle, where all the students gather on special occasions... Tonight being one of the most important!"

Some students were fidgeting anxiously while others were stretching their necks, in the hope of seeing through the narrow opening.

"When you’ll leave this room tonight," resumed the caretaker in a slightly more hurried voice, "you will be wearing high your house colors ! Time is running, so let’s not waste it any longer. After me !"

As they passed through the huge, creaking gate, the cacophony of voices inside was suddenly replaced by a thunderous applause. Of the few places Ominis had seen of the castle, this gigantic room reached an entirely different level. There were sounds all around, and combined with the sudden appearance of dozens of silhouettes into his head, Ominis felt almost dizzy. As their group progressed through the immense hall, he knew he was perceiving only a fraction of the real thing. Silhouettes kept on materializing around him, seated along four tables that seemed to stretch into infinity. In the air floated a field of strange sticks, candles, he would later realize. 

At long last, they reached the back of the hall. There was a wooden stage on top of which was a fifth table facing the room. Seated there were a few clapping figures, far less agitated and much older than the rest of the audience. Standing in front of them in the center of the stage were two people, on either side of what appeared to be a stool.

On the right, Ominis recognized Mrs. Weasley, a rolled parchment in one hand and a strange, oddly shaped object in the other. The second person was a middle-aged man with a short pointed beard. As they approached, the man stepped forward, raising his arms to silence the room.

"That'll do, that’ll do!" he declared, with slight annoyance.

Ominis immediately recognized the pretentious and strict voice of that man from the rare times his father had invited him to the manor. 

"As you certainly already know, my name is Phineas Nigellus Black, and I am the illustrious headmaster of this school. (he stopped, as if expecting some kind of reaction, before clearing his voice awkwardly) At the beginning of this year, you will have the honor - or should I say, the privilege! of... of... of being integrated, I mean, sorted! into one of the four houses of Hogwarts. It's a great honor! A great honor to be welcomed within these walls... for Hogwarts is a prestigious establishment…which prosperity have been entrusted to me, as the Black that I am. Built on the land of my ancestors..."

Phineas then set off giving them a whole recital about the lands where the school was founded, harping a little too often on their distant Black origins. Listening to him, it was almost as if Hogwarts was rightfully his. It was so long that Ominis had to hold back a yawn.

"Ahem ! Headmaster ?" intervened Mrs. Weasley, just before the umpteenth "Black" could be uttered. "Surely our dear First Years will have plenty of time to learn more about the history of Hogwarts once their classes begin. As for now, I can see they are eagerly waiting to get to know their house, don't you agree?"

"I am merely abiding to traditions, Mrs. Weasley, and..." exasperated Phineas, who quickly changed his mind at the reprimanding look she gave him. "Well, if you must insist..." he capitulated, keeping his head up and replacing his hair in a nervous gesture. 

Ominis was beginning to understand where Phineas’ peculiar reputation came from. 

"Welcome to Hogwarts!" declared Mrs. Weasley with her seemingly usual enthusiasm. "For those who don't know me yet, my name is Matilda Weasley and I am Deputy Mistress at Hogwarts. This school was founded centuries ago by four of the greatest wizards of our time. Four wizards and witches for four houses : the brave Gryffindor, the loyal Hufflepuff, the wise Ravenclaw and the ambitious Slytherin. Tonight, you’ll be sorted in one of these houses, which values are as dear to their founders as they are representative of them.  For the seven years to come, your house will become like a second family. Wear its colors with pride and honor!"

She then unrolled her parchment in front of her, and raised the strange object, some kind of cloth, above the stool.

"When I call your name, you will come and sit on this stool. I will then place the Sorting Hat on your head and you will be sorted."

Of the few hats his wand had been able to identify, Ominis thought this one was the oddest.  

"Ameline Namel!"

A young girl anxiously approached Mrs. Weasley and took her place on the stool, her head soon covered by the hat. It was so large that it almost engulfed her whole head. Ominis could see she was very tense. She suddenly wobbled on her seat, seemingly shocked as the hat wiggled to life on her head. Ominis was as bewildered. The hat seemed to be grumbling, as one would do when thinking really hard, or maybe from being woken up. Through his wand, Ominis could see its slumped form bend around, the folds in its thick fabric frowning like two brows and twisting like the lips of a doubtful mouth. Then, a few seconds later, that mouth suddenly declared, loud and clear : "Hufflepuff!"

There followed a fanfare of shouts and applause from the table on the far left side of the room. The Sorting Hat was lifted off the girl’s head, who was positively beaming. She climbed down from her perch and joined the crowd of jubilant Hufflepuffs.

Mrs. Weasley got back to her parchment and called the next name on the list. One after another, the called students sat on the stool, wore the Hat and then joined their respective tables. 

"Anne Sallow. " 

Ominis perked up at the name. It was the girl from the train. He recognized her bun as she took her place under the Sorting Hat. 

"Slytherin!" it announced after a short moment.

This time, it was the table furthest to the right that burst joyfully, Anne being the first student to be sorted in Slytherin since the beginning of the ceremony. Her brother Sebastian followed suit and joined her to another round of applause from their fellow classmates. Even though Ominis had only shared a few words with them on the train, he found himself happy for them. Or was he just envious? 

He certainly grew more and more anxious, despite his family's long history in Slytherin. Being sorted there would mean joining Marvolo and Theresia, not something he was particularly looking forward to, but it would have a far better outcome than ending up in one of the three other houses. If so, they would without a doubt make his life a pure nightmare. Other students followed, among whom he recognized the cheerful Poppy, who was sent to Hufflepuff, and Amit, the star-lover, off to Ravenclaw.

"Ominis Gaunt."

At the sound of his name, his head went blank. The few sounds in the Great Hall seemed swept away in an instant. The hall had become so quiet that even the slightest whisper could be heard.

"Another one?" someone muttered not far behind.

"...pureblood family..." someone else said from an opposite table.

A lump growing in his throat, Ominis slowly made his way through the remaining First Years, wand trembling in his hand. Of all the steps he'd climbed that evening, the three steps to the stage seemed insurmountable. He knew hundreds of gazes were trained on him as he reached the stool, two sets of eyes in particular seemed to see right through him, his brother and sister being present in the audience.

He tried to push the thoughts away by focusing on other details, such as Mrs. Weasley's glasses or smile, or Phineas’ attire as he stood nearby, from his gloved hands or the scarf around his neck to the pocket watch hanging from his hip, on which were engraved the silhouettes of two large dogs. 

Once seated, Mrs. Weasley slowly placed the Sorting Hat on his head. It was heavier than he thought. 

"Hmm, how intriguing..."

Startled, Ominis clutched the edges of the stool tightly at the deep voice that echoed in his head.

"This is the first time I get to dive into such a mind..." the voice continued, laced with fascination.

Ominis didn't know what to answer, whether he had to answer or not. The Hat’s words had him intrigued as well, wondering what they meant. Apart from the fact that he was blind, he wasn’t any different from the other students, was he ?

"Blind? Hmmm. Yes, you are indeed." replied the Hat, catching Ominis off guard. The Hat wasn’t just talking in his mind, it was also hearing his thoughts!

"Yes... Perhaps your blindness has created... these strange voids I perceive in you... just waiting to be complete..." pursued the voice in a drawl.

"Is it... a problem to choose my house?" Ominis dared to think nervously.

“Mmmh... No. But you're a complex case, my boy…”

“Sa-Salazar Slytherin was my ancestor," Ominis then hastened to add, as though it would settle the matter.

“Yes, like all the Gaunts... But your heart seems to favor another path than your blood..."

The selection was clearly dragging out, but Ominis hopes of shortening it just collapsed at these words.

"I see... great naivety... but I also sense intelligence and wisdom just as great. As for those gaps in your mind, they feed a powerful thirst for knowledge within you, especially since you've come into possession of that wand... Should I place you... somewhere else...?"

 

 

A cold chill ran across Ominis’ back. It was as if the thread on which he was dangerously balancing was breaking fiber by fiber. 

“Slytherin has been your family house for generations, but you… there is something new about you… Each of Hogwarts houses also represents an exceptional choice, you know ? Even with your condition, I know you are resourceful... and I'm sure you'll be able to accomplish great things in the name of whatever house I will choose."

It was true that many things already set him apart from the other Gaunts. This was not the first time Ominis had strayed from his family path. He couldn’t deny that the idea was tempting, their grip already loose around him. But inwardly, he dreaded the consequences of such an affront to his name. In comparison to a humble wand store and his house at Hogwarts, the stakes were far too different here. Although he appreciated the praises, he begged for the Hat to just stick to the obvious.

"Hmmm, but you're afraid of disappointing... afraid of shaming your family."

Ominis nodded as the Hat repeated his own thoughts. 

"Interesting... This fear... it fuels a strong ambition in you.... Yes... that of proving your worth to those you fear... and making proud those you hold dear in your heart... As the ambitious wizard that dear Salazar was, Slytherin remains a favorable choice indeed."

Ominis nodded a second time, an ounce of hope budding within him. 

“Hmmm... If that is your wish, then... Slytherin!" the Sorting Hat finally shouted.

To Ominis surprise, a round of applause erupted from the Slytherin table as the verdict was announced. He hadn't expected such a welcome after the chilling silence his name caused, until he remembered that he was the descendant of the founder of this very house. Their enthusiasm could only be directed at his name.

"Congratulations!" said Mrs. Weasley above him, raising her arm to encourage him to join his classmates. Ominis didn’t need to be told twice. His cheeks were burning and all he wished right now was to evade the eyes still trained on him.

He sat at the first vacant spot he found, just opposite the twins. No way he would look for his brother and sister, wherever they were. He was uncomfortable enough knowing he was seated at the same table. A few more students were called and another girl, by the name of Imelda, sat next to him shortly after.

Folding up her parchment, Mrs Weasley congratulated everyone, then clapped her hands lightly above her head, summoning hundreds of dishes on all the tables. It came in such abundance that it was almost impossible to see the wood underneath.

Joyful chatters returned as dinner was served. It was so delicious that Ominis felt relaxed for the first time since the start of this crazy day. On his way to take another slice of that marvelous pumpkin pie, Imelda suddenly called out to him.

"So you're a Gaunt, huh?”

Ominis nodded, brows furrowing. 

"Amazing! At last, I meet a true Slytherin descendant!" she then exclaimed, waving her cutlery excitedly. "His blood runs in your veins! How lucky! A great wizard, that man. The best of the four if you ask me."

Apart from his pure-blood policy and his ability to talk to snakes, Ominis didn't know much about his ancestor. At least, nothing else his family had ever boasted about. He wasn't particularly proud of the heritage his name ought him to carry on. 

"I'm sure every founder had their own qualities" he simply replied.

"Perhaps," said Imelda with some disdain. "But surely you know Slytherin was the most strict of them all. Each of his students was carefully chosen from the best families, so much so that his house is now renowned for producing the most powerful wizards there ever was!"

"And the most dangerous too." retorted Anne from across the table.

Imelda perked up at the unexpected voice.

"True, but a powerful person isn't evil by definition." she resumed, her head held high.

"Maybe you’re right, but many have lost themselves in their pursuit of power."

"Bah! No true Slytherin would think such a thing. Or maybe the weakest ones."

"Say it again if you dare!" responded Anne with gritted teeth.

"Anne..." sighed Sebastian, biting into a piece of chicken, seemingly unfazed. "Don’t get carried away again..."

Anne just ignored him.

"We'll see who's the weak one!" she declared as she rose from her bench to grab one of the chickens in the middle of the table.

"Challenge accepted!" responded Imelda, who in turn put a whole chicken on her plate.

"Here we go again..." groaned Sebastian with his mouth full, without even looking up.

Ominis was just stunned at the turn of events, the heated exchange now evolving into a silly confrontation. The only thing he could do was help himself to more food, despite the unappetizing sounds of the two belligerents devouring their chicken in a glaring contest. When he wasn't concentrating on the flavors dancing on his taste buds, Ominis listened to the students around him, the topics of conversation as varied as the victuals on the table. Some shared their enthusiasm at the approach of the first classes, or congratulated the feast with full mouths, while others laughed at the Director's failed speech. 

As Ominis started on a second slice of custard flan, he barely had time to feel Sebastian's examining gaze on him. 

 

 

The feast ended with a few words from Phineas. Only few words indeed, for no sooner had he invited the students towards their common room that the crowd was abuzz with excitement, noises of benches scratching on the floor invading the hall and leaving little to no room for any speech. Ominis would no doubt have sympathized with Phineas at the audience's indifference, if the man didn't reek of so much pride. He found himself rather relieved if it meant escaping yet another tedious talk from the Headmaster, who merely dismissed the students with a resigned wave of his hand. Proud, but not very reckless. 

Ominis had no idea where to find said common room. His brother and sister may belong to the Slytherin house, they had never bothered to share any details about it with him. In fact, he'd rarely spoken to them since his aunt had taken him in, remembering little or nothing of the time he still lived at his father's mansion. One thing was certain though: Marvolo and Theresia preferred mocking him a thousand times over than giving him the smallest of advice. 

A few students stood looking at each other, apparently uncertain about what to do next, just before a voice called to them from the center aisle.

"This way, Slytherins First years!"

A man of medium height, wearing a long coat and a flat hat, was waving his arms at them. 

"Ah, what a joy to have you in Slytherin! Welcome, welcome!" he greeted them in a lilting voice. His strong accent was not unlike that of Amit, the boy in the boat. As Ominis got closer, he realized he was rather advanced in age, given his beard and the deep ripples of his face.

"I'm Professor Ronen, I am representing Slytherin House and also officiate as Charm’s Master. Let me show you to your new quarters, we wouldn't want you getting lost in that maze of a castle on your first night now, would we? You'll have the whole year for that, believe me! This way!"

Once again, Ominis found himself following the group through the meandering corridors, down staircases and into ever-deeper passages. After several minutes, they stopped in an open space at the junction of two corridors. 

"And there it is!" Pr Ronen declared proudly, pointing in front of him.

Ominis caught the confused glances and whispers that were exchanged around him, but didn’t really understand them at first. It was… just another door. 

"An old wall?" Imelda remarked, annoyed.

Ominis frowned. Behind him, he swore he saw Sebastian elbow Anne, who was obviously about to retort something. 

"You're at Hogwarts, my dear! Nothing is ordinary here!" exclaimed Pr. Ronen cheerfully. "See for yourself! Aspiration !"

At this word, the floor at the foot of the wall lifted, and soon the undulating silhouette of a stone snake was sliding against the wall. The moving sculpture ascended the full height of the wall, its scaly body stilling around the door which opened with a dull creak. The students didn't hide their awe as the passageway revealed itself to them, Pr Ronen rubbing his hands as he rejoiced.

"I’ll never grow bored of this!" he muttered with excitement. 

Ominis followed them into the entrance, still as speechless. The moving snake was impressive in itself, but far less than the fact his wand seemed to have detected the passage way before Pr Ronen had revealed it! Could he really see through walls as he could through a simple drawer? A broad smile came on his face at the discovery, once again grateful to be the bearer of such a wand.

As would suggest its name, the Slytherin common room was restricted to all Slytherin students of all years, given they knew the password (and the location). It was gigantic, to say the least, consisting of several successive rock-cut rooms supported by immense pillars. Professor Ronen showed them the corridors to the dormitories, then led them past a large, draped opening into the main room, where three large windows rose to the ceiling. According to him, they give directly on the Black Lake deeps. “If you are lucky, you might even catch a glimpse of an enormous squid!” he even added.

Once the tour was over, the professor took his leave, inviting everyone to get some rest so as to be in top form for their first day. With a full belly and sore legs, Ominis was more than eager to curl up in a nice bed. His frail body was definitely not used to so much activity, so he wondered if a single night's rest would be enough to recover.

The call of the bed would wait, however, as he found himself drawn to the huge bay windows. While approaching, he could make out a multitude of shapes of various sizes floating gracefully behind the thick panes of glass. For several minutes, he just appreciated the slow undulation of fishes and the dance of thick seaweeds under the current. It was just fascinating, and surprisingly relaxing. Alas, this peaceful contemplation was short-lived.

"I have to admit, you've gone further than we thought," said a voice behind him.

Ominis froze. He was so absorbed that he hadn't felt or recognized the figure leaning against the pillar behind him. 

"Being accepted in Slytherin is one thing, being worthy of it is another," Marvolo continued, his smirk evident in his voice.

"I'm as worthy as you are!" replied Ominis, his shoulders tense and his back still turned at his brother.

"Were those the words of the Sorting Hat?" snapped Marvolo menacingly. Ominis’ eyes widened, his mouth open on a reply that never came.

"The Sorting Hat should never have hesitated for a Gaunt," he continued venomously. "For the Gaunts, hesitation can be very costly, little brother... I thought you would remember..."

"Leave me alone!" barked Ominis, before Marvolo could continue. He turned around and forced his way between the students with a quick step.

"Still running like a coward, huh ?" he heard behind him, his brother's laughter echoing against the stone. 

 

 

Ominis bit his lip. He felt stupid. Stupid to have believed that entering in Slytherin might change anything in the eyes of his brother, and by extension his sister. Whatever good he might do, they would always find a way to torment and confuse him with their insinuations. He sometimes wondered what he could have done to deserve this, even to the point of persuading himself that his blindness couldn't be the only reason behind their bullying.

He remembered Professor Ronen's instructions and made his way down the first corridor on the right, a sort of enormous stone tunnel. His irritated footsteps echoed on the wrought-iron floor, under which he could hear water flowing in some kind of canal. 

His bedroom was an octagonal space, where four post beds with curtains were arranged like cardinal points on a compass. No one was there. It was still early after all, but Ominis didn't care. He went for his suitcase, carefully placed at the end of his bed. He took out his night clothes and as we readied to go to bed, noticed that a letter was carefully placed on his bed. It was a Reciter from Mrs Weasley, reaffirming her availibility if he needed anything, along with his course schedule of the first week. She also indicating that Nyx was now safely resting at the Owlery of the school. That reminded him of his Aunt latest words. He got back to his suitcase to get his quick-quote quill and a piece of parchment, slumped into the thick feathery mattress and closed the curtains. As he pondered what to write to his aunt, he thought again of the Sorting Hat and its mysterious words. A mind waiting to be complete? Before he could write anything, sleep caught up with him, the levitating quill waiting patiently above his blank parchment.

 

 

Notes:

Phineas Nigellus Black - 1885

Phineas Black is the current Headmaster at Hogwarts. He has been in this position for five years now, working along Matilda Weasley as his Deputy. Despite occupying the higher position of the school, few students (and even teachers) really appreciate him, being a nonchalant and overly proud character. Pretentious, and sometimes unfair in the way he treats students, many even consider him unworthy of his title. Adding his clumsiness to the mix didn't help and even gained him the title of the worst Headmaster since the school was founded. Phineas comes from one of the most ancient wizards families along with the Gaunts, Marvolo Gaunt being an old friend of his.

Chapter 7: The secret room

Notes:

Also available in French.

Once again, sorry for slow update! I just don't want to rush things, better take my time and share something I feel satisfied with! Next chapter might come late as holidays will be in the way this time.
As always, I hope you'll enjoy this chapter. Also, thanks for the support and feedback I get about this work!
Have a good reading !

 

 

  CHAPTER 7 - The secret room

 

"Dearest Ominis,

Let me congratulate you on your admission to Slytherin and for reaching out to me so swiftly. I do hope finding the Owlery wasn’t too much trouble. I realize I've never told you about my time at Hogwarts. Perhaps I failed to give you some valuable tips... Now, your wand can decipher passageways in the walls? Will it never cease to amaze me? You'll realize soon enough that Hogwarts is rife with secret places. I hope you don’t feel too intimidated by the amount of people around you. Don't be afraid to introduce yourself to others, sometimes all it takes is one small step. I'm sure these twins are just very shy. On my part, I've got a lot of work ahead of me. I look forward to reading from you, 

Your loving aunt, Noctua Gaunt." 

PS: Here's a little challenge for you. Explore the Tower of Defense against the Dark Arts, and tell me about your discovery in a future letter (Hint: media nocte).

 

Ominis closed the Reciter, torn between relief, curiosity and frustration. It was Saturday morning and the Great Hall was almost empty, except for a few other late risers. Since his arrival at Hogwarts, he would wake up almost as tired as if he had not slept at all. His days were just so eventful, it would take twice the night to get his energy back. And this morning was no different. Fortunately, there were no courses on the weekend. It was Nyx's arrival at his table that pulled him out of his dozing and made him leap on his bench, accidentally knocking and spilling half his bowl of milk on the table. He quickly forgot about it however, as he grabbed excitedly at the letter Nyx had pinched in her beak. He was also glad neither Marvolo nor Theresia were there to mock his clumsiness. As unlikely as it was, it had been three days since he'd last crossed their paths in the Slytherin Common room.

A lot has happened since the Sorting Ceremony. In the letter he had sent to his aunt, he had told her how he had managed to get around on his first day, discreetly joining a group of Slytherins who were just as lost as he was and who, fortunately, were part of his class. In it were other Slytherins, such as Anne, Sebastian and Imelda, as well as First Years from the other houses. Despite her haughty airs, Imelda had seemed less distant to him than the rest of his classmates. That is why he had felt more comfortable choosing her as his unsuspecting guide (or so he thought) to follow around anytime he needed to find his way through this maze of halls and corridors. 

The lessons he had so dreaded had turned out to be his favorite part of the day. All teachers had been very accommodating to him. They had been and remained, to this day, the few people he had really talked to. The first class he attended had been Charms with Professor Ronen. Over the course of an entire morning, they were taught their first spell of the year: Accio .

" Accio Quill! "

Ominis hadn’t even had time to react when the spell had been casted his way. His writing quill had just left his hand to fly straight into his teacher's. That simple word had the power to attract designated items to the person who cast it! "Quite the life-saver when your back hurts!" had joked Pr. Ronen.

There had been no time to be amazed, as the students had had to reproduce this feat on their own, with a promise of a chocolate frog to the first who’d managed it properly. There was no secret, other than a clear enunciation of the spell and a well executed wave of the wand. Ominis had needed all the teacher's help for this last part. Even if he'd only managed to slide its target a few centimeters toward him, he had been quite proud of it.

Professor Ronen was an amazing teacher. He would stride around the tables, cheering and encouraging everyone with the same excitement as if he had been learning the spell for the first time as well. Ominis particularly liked the way he taught through play. He also remembered being relieved he hadn't need to take out any of his school books, the same books from his supply list, though he couldn’t understand what use they would have to him. 

At least, that's what he had thought, until the class with Mrs. Weasley at the end of his first day. She was teaching Transfiguration and had shown them how to turn a piece of wood into a fork. Alas, Ominis's results hadn’ been as good as during Charms class. When Marvolo had said that all he would manage would be deformed, he hadn’t been far from the truth. The stick on his desk had indeed taken on a globular jelly texture. "Come and see me at the end of class," Mrs. Weasley had then asked him. Fearing to have disappointed, he had found himself being taught another spell instead. A spell he had been longing to know. 

" Liber Lectio! "

The spell wasn’t the easiest to handle, but after several attempts at pointing the tip of his wand at the first page of a book, he had started to understand its effect. Snippets of words had popped into his head, but too dispersed to make any sense out of them yet. They were like thoughts that weren't his own. But then, after over an hour of practice, Matilda had cheered that he had properly understood the first paragraph. She had congratulated him and was convinced that with dedication, no book would hold any secrets for him. Ominis had been so happy he'd almost hugged her. Instead, he had restrained himself to thanking her for her discretion. " Don't be ashamed of yourself, Ominis. You will find precious friends in those who will see you for who you are. " 

The next day, Ominis knew he wouldn't be counting Imelda among these "precious friends". It hadn't taken her long to discover his little scheme. Of course she'd noticed him tagging along whenever they had to go to a new class or a new part of the castle. Being followed by no other than a Slytherin's descendant seemed to be more amusing than annoying to her. At least, until the morning of the third day.

Willing to close the distance he seemed to keep around him, she approached him with an unusual request: to sign her History of Magic book. Apparently, having his family name written on it seemed to mean a lot to her. However, she had been awestruck to realize that… he couldn't write. At least, not without his magical quill. Suddenly, everything made sense: why he was constantly shying away, why certain teachers seemed to treat him differently, why he never looked anyone in the eye and why he waved that strange flashing wand at everything. He couldn't see at all ! And to much of Ominis displeasure, she hadn't hesitated for a second to relay the information around her. His condition had never been a secret, but he had found himself rather disgusted by her enthusiasm at spreading the news like it had been the discovery of the century. One would expect Marvolo or Thérésia to act that way, but unfortunately, Imelda didn't seem to differ from them on that part… On a good note, no one had really seemed to act differently towards him after that day. 

Much to his relief, leaving Imelda behind hadn't proved so problematic, for his wand had shown yet another feat. Once he visited a place, it could trace his way back there. It had been the case of the Great Hall on the very first morning, or his dormitory the following evening. As long as he knew where he needed to return, he would let the wand pull him forward like a pin would be to a magnet.

He never strayed in the castle, only restraining to go where he was asked to : places like the different classrooms, the library or the owlery. Even though he knew he wouldn't get lost, he just couldn't risk running into the wrong people. He would always return to his dormitory early and leave in the morning after everyone else.

Ominis didn’t particularly seek out any company. And the other students, even when being aware of his condition, didn’t seem to seek his attention either. Imelda had stopped showing interest in him. Surely he no longer was up to her standards of what a great Slytherin descendant was supposed to be. No other Slytherin admirers had introduced to him either. Not that he cared. Marvolo and Theresia’s well-established presence was already taking care of that. 

He had been used to loneliness for a long time. He had spent almost half his life waiting hours for his aunt to get home from the greenhouse after all. But being alone amidst hundreds others felt just completely different. And far worse.

Ominis carefully folded up the letter and put it away in his bag. Hearing from his aunt had been like a breath of fresh air. However, her last words made him frown. The twins, shy? He couldn't convince himself of that. They were just like the others, blinded by his family’s reputation. Marvolo and Theresia seemed to have taken great pleasure in establishing it during their previous years, and it was not something to be proud of… 

As his aunt and Mrs. Weasley suggested, perhaps he was only one small step away from making valuable friends. But he feared this bad publicity would deprive him of that. He left the Great Hall, eager to prove that he was not, and never would be, like the rest of his pure-blood family. 

He had discovered on the second day that Sebastian shared the same dormitory. Perhaps he could try to talk to him the coming evening? 

Caught up in his thoughts, Ominis didn't realize his steps had taken him to the Tower of Defense against the Dark Arts. He had learned to recognize it by the music of the small enchanted orchestra that played there. The same music that suddenly invaded his ears as he was violently brought back to reality. He had collided head-on with a student, his bag dislodging from his shoulder and the inkwell on top of the books the student was carrying shattering on the floor.

"Hey, watch it!"

"So-sorry, I didn't..."

"Oh... let me guess, you didn't see me?"

Ominis froze, his hand open midway above his bag. The boy sounded older than him, maybe a Third or Fourth year. What he couldn’ mistake however was the raging annoyance in their voice.

"You Gaunts really are the worst!" snapped another student to the right, also a few years older. To the left, a girl stood with her arms crossed. 

"Don't you ever come near me again, do you understand?" growled the first boy, looming over him. If it wasn’t for his voice, Ominis would have thought he was in front of his brother. The Gaunts' bad reputation left him no respite.

You're wrong about me, he wanted to retort, but the need to get away was greater. Taking the strap of his bag in hand, he prepared to turn around, only to freeze on the spot. There, at the boy's foot was his quick-quote quill, still stowed in its inkwell.  

"Didn’t you hear what I just said? Are you deaf too?" the boy impatiently stamped his foot.

"My... my quill..." stammered Ominis, cringing at his pathetic little voice.

The boy inspected the ground at his feet and lowered himself as he spotted the item. Ominis swallowed nervously as he could make out the other's hand closing over his possession.

"Would you look at that ! How much did that cost you ? You could feed for a whole week with what it is worth, I say!” the student exclaimed indignantly. "Why is the worst kind of people always the wealthiest?"

Ominis said nothing, feeling his wand slip in his sweaty fingers.

"I think I'll keep it. An inkwell for an inkwell.”said the boy. “What are you still doing here? Go away before I make you regret it."

"No... No, give it back!" Ominis dared to protest, the quill too precious to just give it up.

"Why don't you go cry to your brother, so he might as well see how it is to be bullied! It's only fair!" retorted the boy, pushing Ominis by the shoulder, almost knocking him over. "Be grateful, I could be asking for more to pay for what he put me through."

"Leander, don't go too far," the girl then said, as a few students were looking their way.

"Why wouldn't I? Gaunts do, don’t they? Nobody calls them out for anything, not even the Headmaster..." growled the boy between gritted teeths as he let himself be dragged along by his two comrades. 

Ominis was petrified. But the idea of his quill about to disappear into the pocket of this "Leander" had the effect of a shock. He raised his wand, feeling adrenaline coursing through his body. 

" A-Accio Quill! "

Suddenly, Leander’s arm was thrown back, his hand still firmly clasped around the inkwell. He tried to pull it toward him, but the spell was incredibly strong, so much so that Ominis had to hold his wand with both hands, feeling it tremble under the force. Leander was too stubborn to let go and soon, his whole body swept forward, sending him face down on the ground.

"Ouch!"

Released in his fall, the inkwell and quill flew straight into the hand of a shocked Ominis, who remained rooted to the spot. Neither could he marvel at his prowess, nor rush to Leander to check if he was okay, at the enraged voice that rose.

"Gauuunnt!" 

Ominis ran like he had never run before. Even the prospect of falling down the staircase he was now hurtling down wasn’t as terrifying. He didn't know where his wand was taking him. All he cared about was to get away from Leander, whose hurried footsteps echoed in the distance.

Once at the bottom of the stairs, he turned right, only to end up in a dead end. Distraught, he pointed his wand in all directions and spotted, in a recess on the wall to his right, some sort of wardrobe. Its façade was adorned with several clocks, where just as many hands danced to the rhythm of the seconds. But the most astonishing thing was the passageway he could detect inside.

Leander's footsteps were approaching dangerously. Ominis tried to find a handle, a keyhole, anything to open the door, but found nothing. How he wish his aunt could be here to help him ! Suddenly, he raised his wand.

" Media nocte! "

All the hands turned in a synchronized manner, only to stop to a vertical position with a clatter. As soon as he heard hinges creaking, Ominis rushed through the opening, immediately closing it behind him.

 

 

Several seconds passed. He didn't dare breathe. He couldn’t tell if Leander had reached the bottom of the stairs, the sound of the clock gears in the door covering all others. Still, Ominis didn’t risk the slightest movement. It was his trembling legs that gave way, causing him to slide against the wall, his hands on his face. What had he done? Had he hurt Leander? Was he going to be expelled? He repeated the scene over and over in his mind, and the more he thought about the way he fled, the more it proved his brother right. Ashamed of his cowardice, his heavy sobs echoed through the mysterious passage. 

 

 

Ominis didn't know how long he'd been curled up there, crying with his head against his knees. Maybe a few minutes. Maybe hours. Even when his crying had long since stopped, he just sat there on the floor. He almost forgot the ticking of the various clocks echoing all around him, their monotonous dance growing even more lulling to his ears. It made him feel more at ease here than in his own dormitory. Here at least, his roommates wouldn’t burst in at any moment. 

With shaky legs, he slowly got to his feet. Despite how unlikely it was to run into Leander again, he decided to explore the rest of the corridor instead. It extended into a spiral staircase and led him to a vaulted room. Several arches supported its low ceiling, and along its walls were stored all sorts of things. Ominis couldn't really identify them, apart from a few storage crates and old brooms. What he could tell was that it was quite old by the thick layer of dust that would stick to his fingertips. The place must not have been used for ages. At least, not since his aunt had been there.

It was the place she'd mentioned in her letter, he was sure of it. In his misfortune, he had stumbled upon it and took refuge there. It was almost as if his aunt continued to look after him despite the distance. Alas, Leander was proof that he could tell as much for Marvolo and Thérésia, as their misdeeds continued to torment him without even them being there.

When he finished looking around the room, he sat down on the floor, reluctant to go out yet. He took out his quill, fortunately intact, and unrolled a piece of parchment on the floor. After a few seconds, he began to dictate his misadventures. This place was perfect to be alone. Here, he would get no annoyed breaths or embarrassed glances at his shouter paper while it dictated his courses. Even though Liber Lectio was very handy at working in silence, he couldn't really practice it on his own… how could he know he got the text right ? Besides, he liked hearing his teachers' voices coming out of his magic parchment. It was like  having them in front of him again.

"I look forward to reading from you."

His last sentence had almost been interrupted by a yawn. If it wasn't for his rumbling belly, he would have laid there to extend his peaceful stay. But the quicker he would send the letter, the sooner he would read from his aunt. Mr. Moon had taken him to the Owlery at his request on the first evening. It would be no trouble to get there again. With a sigh, he made his way back up the stairs.

Once he was certain the corridor behind the door was clear, he slipped out of the passage. The door closed behind him, locking itself at the sound of dozens of hands spinning in their dials. The small orchestra in the Tower was still playing but he could hear few to no voices. It was certainly dinner time. He ignored his stomach's complaints and set off instead to his dormitory, in search of an envelope for his letter. 

However, it just took a few minutes walking the corridors for his luck to run out.

"Seems like the coward has come crawling back."

Ominis stopped dead in his tracks, his foot stamping the floor in anger. He just wanted to scream. Why, of all the students he could have come across, it had to be this one? Three days without seeing him had been too good to be true. And to make things worse, Theresia was here as well.

"We've heard you've crossed paths with good old Prewett," she rejoiced, her voice almost singing. "It reminds me of the good old days, right Marvolo?"

"Right you are. And I'd be burning a few of his coats again, until his poor family runs out of money to buy them back, if it wasn’t that boring anymore." said his brother with an unsettling laugh.

Ominis refused to hear any more and was about to resume his walking when " Accio parchment! " he felt his letter slip from his hand to crumple directly into his brother's.

"How I bet Leander would love to be in my shoes right now. That coward would rather pick on a poor blind kid than me. I heard how you fled from him and how he still managed to lose trace of you. And here I thought you both couldn't be more pathetic ... "

"Give it back!"

"A letter, eh? To dear Noctua, obviously. Who else?" his brother laughed.

As Marvolo started unfolding the parchment, Ominis panicked. If his brother read about his new hiding place, Ominis was certain they would never leave him getting back there again.

"I said give it back!"

Ominis rushed at Marvolo as his brother raised his arm above his head, forcing him to cling to his shoulders .

"Hands off me, you cripple!"

Ominis was suddenly shoved away and almost fell on his bag, inwardly praying that its content was still intact. Seeing no other option, he raised his wand straight at the letter, ready to repeat his previous feat.

“Do you really want to play that game?” sneered Marvolo. A shiver of fear ran through Ominis as Marvolo drew his own wand from his coat. But instead of pointing it at him, he aimed directly at the letter. “What did you write in that silly letter, I wonder?"

But Ominis didn't even have time to reply.

" Incendio! "

Suddenly, a wave of heat blew across his face, only to disappear as quickly as it came. The letter had disappeared with a crumbling sound, reduced to a pile of ash before it had even had time to fall to the ground. 

"Why? Why... are you doing this to me?" he began to sob, his whole body shaking. It was just a letter. But still, Ominis couldn’t stand it anymore. "What have I ever done to you?"

At this, his brother and sister exchanged a look, and their faces turned suddenly dark.

"You've deprived us of something we'll never get back… growled Marvolo. And even if you've already paid a heavy price, your pitiful existence is reason enough!" he then exclaimed, with a hatred Ominis had never heard from him before.

What was that ? He couldn't understand. Around them, a few students stopped, while others picked up the pace to flee the scene. Neither Marvolo nor Theresia seemed to mind. Ominis just wanted to disappear.

"The Gaunts are powerful, ambitious, fearsome, ruthless wizards! Not whiners that drag themselves in the dirt!"

Ominis realized that his coat must be covered in dust from where he had been seated in the secret room. 

"Let me get rid of that for you. Nothing better than a bit of fire to clean things up!"

Ominis was terrified. His brother was out of his mind! His trembling body didn’t seem to react at the wand that was threateningly brandished at him.

 "HEY!"

Everything came to a screeching halt as someone suddenly stood in front of him, pointing an accusing finger at Marvolo.

"Are you crazy ? How dare you treat your brother this way?"

 

 

Ominis couldn’t believe his ears. Then, he felt gentle hands rest on his shoulders as Anne helped him to his feet while Sebastian stood up to Marvolo.

"What's this, Ominis?" asked Marvolo with annoyance. "What kind of guard dog is that?"

"The damn dog here is you, Gaunt," Sebastian retorted without flinching.

“Such a shame we have work ahead of us, dear brother.” Theresia then intervened, the disappointment in her voice barely exaggerated. “But we’ll make sure to teach him some manners.”

“We’re not quite done, little brother.”

Ominis didn't have time to hear their footsteps leave before Anne and Sebastian bombarded him with questions.

"Are you alright ?"

"Would you like a seat?"

“Do you want us to get a teacher?”

Ominis didn't know what to say. He couldn't believe what the twins had just done. Expecting yet another prank, he staggered away from them.

"You…. You shouldn't have done that! Marvolo will never leave you alone after this!”

“And leave him to treat you like vermin? No sir !" Anne said indignantly, hands on her hips.

“If he wants to pick a fight, suit himself. He isn’t as scarier as I thought he would be,” Sebastian replied casually. “When Anne and I are together, no one can stop us.”

Ominis was awestruck. He’s been cowering to his brother and sister for years, and now, these complete strangers had managed to chase them away. He couldn't tell if it was courage or silly recklessness.

“Why are you helping me? I’m a Gaunt too, you… you should hate me… everyone does…”

“I’m a brother myself, you know…” Sebastian then replied, scratching his ear. “Gaunt or not, I couldn’t let him treat you like that.”

Ominis couldn't say anything back.

“Besides, I think we owe you an apology…Sebastian and I.” continued Anne, lowering her head.

"Exactly ! You couldn't be one of those Gaunts we’ve been talked so bad about…” Sebastian continued with a cheerful voice. "Do you know why ?"

Ominis shaked his head in disbelief, a stunned expression on his face.

“Such a Gaunt would never have entered our stinking cabin!”

 

 

Notes:

Sebastian Sallow - 1885

Like Ominis, Sebastian is a First year student at Hogwarts, also sorted in Slytherin. Born to a wizard father and a Muggle mother, he and his twin sister, Anne, are inseparable. However, since the death of their father years ago, they live with their gardian, Uncle Solomon, in a little hamlet called Feldcroft. While Anne can be short-tempered, she is not as carefree as Sebastian, who is always ready to help others, even if it means standing in the way of Marvolo Gaunt!

Chapter 8: Companionship

Notes:

Also available in French.

Wow, it took forever to be published, but here it finally is ! The library illustration was quite the challenge (and one of the reason I took so long haha). But as I said, better not rush things.
Again, thanks for being here and for sticking with this story!

As always, I hope you'll enjoy this chapter :)
Have a good reading !

 

 

  CHAPTER 8 - Companionship

 

A week had passed since Ominis had discovered the hidden room behind the clocks. Yet, he surprisingly had not seeked its safety that whole time, despite not being short of reasons to do so. After his tumultuous meeting with Leander, he had expected the Fifth year to turn him in to a teacher, or even the Headmaster, as he had also feared his brother and sister to return with some sort of dreadful revenge to those who had dared stand in their way. But none of that happened. And the secret room had remained closed. 

There was another reason. And a much simpler one.

Ever since that day in the Tower of Defense against the Dark Arts, the twins had stayed by his side, whether when eating their meals in the Great Hall, going through their different courses or working on their assignments. His wand was no longer his only companion and the castle corridors weren’t as fearsome as before. The more time he hung out with them, the more his need to be alone faded away.

At first, Ominis didn't know how to react. All of this had been so unexpected. So… unlikely. To the point he even had racked his brains to understand why they had suddenly decided to stick with him. What was most obvious for many hadn’t been to him, as, for the very first time, he had not only one, but two friends. And he didn't know what that felt like.

However, his confusion had soon been put to the test as other students seemingly opened up to him as well. He had been astonished to realize that his confrontation with Marvolo had transformed how many had first perceived him. Yes, he was a Gaunt, but one that defied all expectations. As intimidating as it was, this new consideration was a welcome one. It had taken him a few days to get used to this sudden interest, feeling inclined to learn more about the ones around him in return, beginning with his two new comrades.

Anne was gentle, attentive, and a very strong-willed girl. But if anyone dared to rub her the wrong way, she could easily get irritated. And with Imelda around, this happened more often than one might think. Since the first banquet, the two girls seemed to have become rivals and never missed a chance to bicker at one another. "I’ll keep this up until she apologizes for the way she had treated you, Ominis!" was her reason. Her swapping moods aside, Ominis had also learned that she loved to write and draw.

Sebastian, on the other hand, was more straightforward, the kind of person that act before and think after (in other words, the kind that would pick a fight with Marvolo). So learning his inclination at defying rules hadn’t surprised Ominis the least. On his second day at Hogwarts, Sebastian had almost ended up in detention for trying to sneak into the Restricted Section of the library, where only teachers and specialized personnel were authorized. “I just wanted a lookaround!" he had whined. Anne was convinced that much curiosity will ultimately be his doom. Unlike her, he was more of a reader than a writer. His satchel was always full with grimoires, to the point Ominis could almost hear its seams cracking under their weight. It came to no surprise to learn that Sebastian’s favorite place was the library, where he liked to spend almost all his free time.

In their company, Ominis had learned to love it as well. The library was the quietest place in the school after the secret room. It was huge, its main room surrounded by deep alcoves where walls were just giant shelves that rose to the ceiling. Above was an additional floor with new rows of shelves, accessible by spiral wooden staircases at each corner of the main room, in the center of which long sloped tables were set up. There, the librarian Mrs. Scribner required utmost silence, thus only the soft rustling of pages, the sound of rain against the large stained-glass windows, the whispering of students or the flaps of books as they flew overhead on their way to their respective  shelves were partially tolerated. Mrs Scribner, though, didn’t seem to mind one sound in particular, the one produced by her own heels, as they echoed like a haunting metronome on the century-old wooden floor.

"You did what ?!" exclaimed Sebastian suddenly. 

 

 

"Quiet, Mr Sallow!" hissed Mrs Scriber from across the room, as Sebastian ducked back behind his grimoire.

The three Slytherins were seated at one of the long tables in the center of the library, working on an assignment about Protego , a shielding spell, for Mrs Hecat, their teacher of Defense against the Dark Art. When Ominis was softly and carefully whispering his text to his quick-quote quill, Sebastian, on the other hand, didn't really seem to care about the level of his voice, nor the filling of his parchment. 

"You can’t be serious ! A Fifth year? With Accio ?"

The twins had finally learned about the other misadventure Ominis had gone through on the day they confronted Marvolo. A small parcel received from his aunt in the morning was what had brought the story back. She had responded to Ominis’ latest letter, in which he had told her everything that had happened. He had been waiting for her answer the whole week, but finally, upon reading her message (thanks to his new comrades, he had greatly improved at Liber Lectio ), his face had turned even paler than usual. It had felt like all the confidence he had regained over the last few days had vanished into thin air. 

The parcel contained an inkwell. An inkwell for Leander, in compensation for the one that broke when they bumped into each other. Leander had been the last person Ominis wanted to see again (aside from Marvolo and Thérésia, of course), as he obviously was on his bad side. But to his dismay, Anne and Sebastian had other ideas. They took it upon themselves to find the Fifth year, dragging their reluctant friend along, without even seeking more explanations from him. They had crossed paths with the older student rather quickly, on their way to the library. Then, things went quite promptly. After listening to Ominis mumbling his apologies, Leander simply took the inkwell and left without a word. It had felt terribly awkward but now that it was done, Ominis felt glad he could finally move on.

     As to thank the twins, he had decided to tell them about all that happened with Leander, the inkwell mishap aside. However, there might have been a better choice of place to tell the tale… than the library.

"A First Year lifting someone with Accio , how insane!" was Sebastian's reaction as Ominis finished his story.

"It was only an accident… Fact is that I took it out on him...I thought I would be expelled." he replied anxiously.

"You, expelled? Not a chance!" laughed Sebastian incredulously. "I was told that Blacks and Gaunts were close. For the Headmaster to throw you out wouldn’t make sense, wouldn’t it ?"

"Then, what about Marvolo and Theresia ? They don’t seem too keen on keeping appearances…" grumbled Ominis.

" Shush ...!" snapped Mrs. Scribner from the other side of a shelf.

Sebastian just ignored her.

"I guess they just can’t help it." he shrugged.

"By the way, you didn't mean to hurt Leander," Anne then added, her voice kept low. “He tried to steal from you and you just defended yourself. Besides, what an outraging way to treat you! If I'd known, I wouldn’t have bothered to give that inkwell, you can be sure of that!"

Ominis said nothing, sliding the tip of his wand aimlessly across the page of the book in front of him. 

“You really don't mind being with me?”

"Ominis, for Merlin’s sake! How many times do we need to-" exclaimed Sebastian, before his mouth was shut by Mrs Scribner who bonked him on the head with a book.

"If I ever catch you nattering again, Mr. Sallow, I’ll make sure to keep you out not only from the Restricted Section, but from the entire library!" 

"No need to worry about us, Ominis," whispered Anne once Scribner's footsteps had passed behind a bookshelf. "If your brother had wanted to take on us, he'd have done it already, don't you think?"

She got a point there. Ominis only hoped Marvolo wasn’t taking out his frustration on some unlucky students, now that he wasn't as vulnerable and lonely. Still, he had heard he and Theresia kept mischieving around, like that time when they had tried to steal magical fertilizers from Mrs. Garlick, their herbology teacher (alas, without enough evidence to prove anything).

"What else do you know about the Gaunts?" he asked suddenly, as the twins had gone back to their parchments. "You knew the name before arriving at Hogwarts, didn't you?"

Both feathers stopped scratching and looks were exchanged.        

"Of course you had noticed, that day, on the train…”sighed Anne, rolling her writing quill sheepishly between her fingers.“Yes, we’ve been told about your family by our uncle, Solomon." 

"Your uncle?"

"Yes, he worked for the Ministry of Magic back in the day, Sebastian continued. As an Auror, his mission was to fight against dark wizards. And it's common knowledge that the Gaunts encourage the use of Dark magic."

Ominis swallowed nervously at the thought of what he still ignored about his own family. These words took him back to Knockturn Alley. With all the artifacts of this forbidden magic that could be found there, he felt like deep down, he already knew.

"But now we know you and your mother are obviously not tarred with the same brush! Anne added with a smile. It was very thoughtful of her for sending the inkwell to Leander." 

"Oh, she's not my mother, she's my aunt," replied Ominis. "I never knew my mother."

"Oh, I'm sorry..." she said, embarrassed. When I saw the handwriting on the message, I thought..."

"Don’t fret, Anne. You aren’t in the wrong actually. She's the one who raised me, after all, and... I owe her a great deal." he replied with a subtle, yet reassuring smile. "I'm not quite sure, but I believe my mother died when I was very little. I never tried to find out more, because deep down I thought she must have been like my father, distant and cold. I was with my aunt and... I was the happiest that I could be."

He felt Anne's hand rest gently on his, as a way to say she understood, an impression quickly confirmed by Sebastian's next words.

"So, that’s one thing in common with us," he mused. "We don't live with our parents either."

At this, Anne's hand seemed to stiffen on his, but she didn't move it away.

"Our father died when we were seven." Sebastian added in a dull voice, before taking on his usual cheery tone. “He was a teacher at Hogwarts, you know? And I'm sure some of the books he wrote are still in there! I mean, in the Restricted Section."

“Wait, was that why you were so keen to go in there?" gasped Anne, "Why don't you just ask them directly? Why do you always look for trouble where it doesn’t need to be ?”

"And what fun would that be?" said Sebastian, crossing his arms. 

"Anne's right, Sebastian. He was your father, and it wouldn't be fair of them to deny you that. Ominis ventured. And... what does your mother do?"

Anne's hand withdrew at that, and several seconds passed without a word being spoken. Realizing he might have overstepped, Ominis was about to apologize, when Anne's voice stopped him.

“Our mother... fell ill shortly before our father's death. Today, she's confined to St. Mungo's Hospital. 

"Oh... I'm sorry..." stammered Ominis.

Anne shook her head with a sigh, a gesture Ominis was glad his wand had picked up. Like him, it seemed like many had their own share of misfortunes in life. Although he never met his mother, he thought it might be better this way. He couldn’t imagine how it would be to keep on living while the person that counts the most to you just suffered. 

A heavy silence fell over their table as quills resumed their scratching, their dance on the parchment heavier on the ear than before. Ominis felt guilty about his curiosity. It was like that time on the Hogwarts Express, as he had sat awkwardly in the strange stench that flooded their cabin. However this time, he had no reason to leave this heavy feeling pending.

"What's a Gobstone?" he asked, out of the blue.

The twins perked up at the surprising question, and Sebastian burst out laughing. 

" Shhhh! " complained both Mrs. Scribner and other students nearby.

"Whe... Where did that come from ?" Sebastian managed to say between two contained laughs. Anne, too, seemed to be holding back a snicker, her shoulders jiggling. "You've never played it?"

"Played? What fun could you possibly find in something so… putrid ? Ominis frowned, raising an eyebrow. “I am already one sense short, I would rather keep my sense of smell, thanks." 

"That's why you've got to try it!" quipped Sebastian. He rose from his chair (Ominis swore he heard sighs of relief around) and stuffed his parchment into his bag. "How about we give it a try? Quick, before old Scribner turns up!"

"But, Sebastian, no way do you plan to go outside with that weather! rebuked Anne, careful to keep her voice from rising too much, "Unless you want to end up drenched to the bone?"

"I know that! Perhaps under the courtyard archway then? I doubt they will let us play it in the corridors.” grumbled Sebastian with shoulders slumped. “Come on, I've had enough, we've been here for hours! If anyone's happened to be around, the smell will just keep them at bay!" 

Anne raised her hand to her chin, pondering the possibilities.

Ominis had almost completed his parchment for the day, and his legs had grown heavy from staying still for so long. Although he wasn't particularly looking forward to smelling the stench of the cabin again, he wouldn't be entirely honest with himself if he said he wasn't intrigued by this supposedly game. He stored his quill back in its inkwell and rolled up his parchment.

"I may know a place." 

 

 

Ominis never imagined getting back to the secret room so late after his first visit, even less flanked by two other people. And yet here he was, leading the way (which was quite an enjoyable thing to do) to the recess just to the right of the staircase leading to the 3rd floor of the Tower of Defense against the Dark Arts, but not before a little detour to the Slytherin common room to collect the intriguing Gobstones. Showing his discovery to the twins was exciting as much as it was conflicting. Deep down, it was like he was betraying a secret between him and his aunt. But he also felt that she would understand. After all, no one could enter if they didn’t know the spell to unlock the door. And right now, he felt like sharing it with Anne and Sebastian was a right thing to do. 

Ominis invited them into the dead-end once he was sure nobody was around. The monotonous tickings of the wardrobe echoed around them, mixing with the sound of their footsteps on the marble floor. 

"First, I must warn you," Ominis said, his back straightened and his wand held high towards the twins, as if inspecting them carefully. "This place must stay secret. It will be our secret, to us and to no one else. Promise me not to talk about it to anyone ."

The other two nodded with an approving sound. Then, when his wand detected nothing in their body language that would betray their honesty, he turned to face the hidden door.

" Media Nocte "

All the hands on the front of the wardrobe started a frenetic dance which stopped in a heavy CLING . The façade then slided gently on its hinges, their creaking sounding like an invitation to step inside.

"Amazing!" breathed Sebastian.

"Merlin’s beard!" exclaimed Anne.

Ominis just hurried them inside, not wanting to linger there any longer. 

"Lumos!" said the twins in unison, just as the door closed behind them. This made Ominis realize that the narrow corridor was indeed plunged in absolute darkness. Of course he wouldn't know, as his wands only showed him the shapes of his surroundings, however dark it was. Frowning, a strange doubt took hold of him. That spell. He knew it. He vaguely remembered trying to learn it when he was younger, during the earliest stage of his magic practice. A painful time of failures he was glad to have come a long way from. But what good could Lumos ever be to him?

" Lumos! " he said suddenly with a little jolt of his wand, as if to prove to himself that he wasn't making anything up.

"Ah! Thank you Ominis, I wouldn’t complain about some extra light!" said Anne, as the spell lit up the tip of his wand with a much brighter light than its usual red glow. 

While still confused about the spell, Anne’s words made him aware of something he felt quite dumb for not having thought about before : while not all the spells were useful for a blind boy like him, they could be to others. A great wizard wouldn’t stick to a selection of spells only good for his own use, he thought. If he meant to help others, he would need to learn as many spells as selflessly as possible. His spell casting had considerably improved since his arrival at Hogwarts, so it didn’t seem as far-fetched as it would have been a few months ago. Although he only knew Itero , which repeated a person's latest words (he'd used it a lot to listen at his aunt’s voice telling stories in her absence), Lumos , and more recently Liber Lectio, Accio and Protego , they might come in handy in more ways that he first thought they would. And those last spells had been learned in just a few days! Like Lumos , he wondered if Anne or Sebastian knew other spells of their own.

At last, they reached the room, the sound of their footsteps bouncing differently on the now far apart walls.

"By Merlin, where on earth are we?"

"This is a place my aunt told me about," explained Ominis. "Here, we shouldn’t worry about disturbing anyone, and no one should disturb us either. At least, that’s what I hope."

"Wow, talk about a hideout!" said Sebastian in awe.

"Where do you think we really are?" inquired Anne as she ventured further into the room, pointing her wand in all directions. "Some sort of attic ?" 

"It would have made sense if we’re under a roof, silly." said Sebastian with a snarky voice. I think I saw some place like this before, you know, during one of Dad’s book tours.

“Oh! You’re right, we saw that under the old Falmouth castle.  Anne answered with genuine surprise. What was it again? An undercroft ?”

“That sounds about right." answered Sebastian.

Ominis liked the name. It had a far better ring than the secret or the hidden room.

“Then, the undercroft it is” he concluded.

The trio set about examining the content of the room, searching, inspecting and rummaging through all the stuff like it was some kind of treasure hunt. Among the objects Ominis hadn't been able to identify on his first visit were damaged crystal balls, crates full of candles partly melted, stacks of rusty cauldrons that almost reached the ceiling, and various pieces of furniture and workshops, such as this chest full of dozens (maybe hundreds) of drawers, their capacity ranging from one of a matchbox to one of a whole suitcase, or this piece of furniture holding a kind of large metal plate whose shine had faded over the years. These were just a few examples among many others unfamiliar objects. The trio was so intrigued that they challenged themselves into discovering the purpose of each of them by the end of the year. Some items were so strange Anne even thought they were of Muggle origins. Sebastian, on the other hand, had been solely focused on a batch of old brooms he had found covered under an old sheet. He was convinced they belonged to former Quidditch champions, a wizarding game using flying broomsticks that he seemed to particularly like. 

"Insane!" he exclaimed as he managed to untangle one of the brooms from the rest of the lot. "Perfect for flight training! Too bad the kickstand is missing..." 

"Give me that! All you’ll manage on that patched-up old broom is to fly straight into a wall! "Anne interjected, taking the broom from his hands and immediately sweeping the floor with it, making the air around them thick with dust. 

“Have you gone mad ?!" Sebastian exclaimed. "Sweeping the floor with an authentic Quidditch broom ? It’s outra…… Achoo!!! "

"Would you rather play Gobstones on this bed of dust? Not sure they’ll roll very far."

"Right! With your nonsense, I almost forgot!" said Sebastian, dismissing the broom as if he had never found it.

The twins were quite entertaining, to say the least. Everytime they started bickering or teasing each other, Ominis would just enjoy the show, trying to ignore the little tug in his heart. Never could he imagine sharing such playful moments with his own siblings.

Sebastian opened his satchel and began rummaging inside. He pulled out a box of matches and handed them to Anne. "Do you mind getting a handful of those old candles ? The glow of our wands just won’t do." Then, he pulled out a second box, this time made of wood. Ominis could hear what sounded like marbles rolling around inside. Anne returned with lit candles, which she placed all around them. All three then sat in a circle on the floor.

"Now, here… is a Gobstone," started Sebastian, presenting the object to Ominis' wand. When he got an approving nod, he placed it on the floor. “To win the game, you’ll have to throw your Gobstones as close to this one as possible!” Sebastian then took a piece of chalk from his school kit and seemed to draw three circles around it.

"The markings are simply for counting points. There are lots of ways to play Gobstones, but with you, we're going to focus on one version in particular."

Sebastian invited Ominis to present his hand, then deposited a dozen Gobstones in it.

"Be careful not to miss your shot. The further you are from your goal, the more terrible the sentence will be!" he finished with a devilish laugh.

Ominis focused on feeling the little marble in his hand. They were light, their size reminding him of nuts, but with a completely smooth surface that felt strange to the touch. They were soft under his fingers, and he could swear there was some kind of liquid sloshing inside.

"I'd avoid squeezing them too much if I were you," Sebastian chuckled, causing Ominis’ hand to freeze.

"I can go first if you want!" suggested Anne, as if reading the uncertainty on his face. She took one of her own gobstones and, delicately, tossed it as close as possible towards the one in the center.

"There ! Now it's your turn to send yours as close as possible! It's easier than it looks.”

Ominis nodded and took one gobstone between his fingers. He pointed his wand towards the one in the center, trying to calculate the distances as best he could. Unfortunately, his search for accuracy had him overstating the distances, and his marble barely reached the edge of the first chalk ring. He barely had time to hear Anne inhale before drops of liquid were splashed on his face, their smell as dreaded as he remembered from the train. 

"Ew, no!" he whinged, plugging his nose, his other hand raised in front of his face. 

 

 

"Well, too bad!” said Sebastian apologetically. “Despite what Anne might tell you, the game can be very technical. She would know that if she had trained as hard as me. Watch this !"

As he positioned his hand, ready to shoot, Anne suddenly elbowed him. "No!" The marble slipped from his fingers and went well beyond the center of the circle, stopping at Ominis' feet. The latter just held his breath in fear of being showered a second time, but the gobstone, as if aware of its owner, did nothing of the sort. It was Sebastian who got punished, as he received no drops, but a whole jet of foul liquid, commensurate with how bad his shot was. 

"Anne! You’ll pay for that!” he complained, trying to shield himself from the liquid with the sleeve of his coat.

"How dare you accuse your own sister?" she feigned, crossing her arms with a pout. "So much for being an overconfident jerk!"

"For your trouble, you'll be the one to wash my coat!"

"No. Way. You go ask for a house elf for that. And good luck finding one who won’t mind your body odor!"

The twins bickering could have gone on for a long time, and yet, they found themselves interrupted by an unexpected sound. In front of them, Ominis was laughing. It wasn't just one of the rare amused smiles that sometimes appeared on his closed face, but a real laugh the likes of which they'd never heard coming from the young Gaunt before. The twins looked at each other and laughed back, the echo of their euphoria bouncing off the walls and flooding the darkness of the Undercroft.

 

 

Notes:

Anne Sallow - 1885

Just like Sebastian, her twin brother, Anne is a First year student at Hogwarts, sorted in Slytherin. Born to a wizard father and a Muggle mother, they live with their gardian, Uncle Solomon, in a little hamlet called Feldcroft. Anne is gentle but can be short-tempered, and won't hesitate to share her feeling on anything worth fighting against. She regrets for having judge Ominis without learning to know him better, but now, she feels glad he had accepted them as his friends.

Chapter 9: The silence of Noctua

Notes:

Also available in French.

Finally, the 9th chapter is out! Chapters are published at a very slow pace, but there are many things to come, I promise!
Thanks for your patience and as always, I wish you a good reading !
Feedback are also more than welcome.

 

 

  CHAPTER 9 - The silence of Noctua

 

Nothing. Just an infinite void. Around him, the echo of his flickering breath. Beneath his feet, the creak of a wooden floor. And in his hand, the handle of an unfamiliar wand. Then, a deafening crack of lightning, and a gut-wrenching pain spreading through his body to the very core of his bones.

Ominis awoke suddenly. 

He inhaled deeply, his breathing greedily swelling his chest as if he’d been about to drown. His arms were firmly tightened around his form, plagued with tremors from the fresh air hitting his sweaty skin as well as the terror still vivid within him.

There was no shape, no outline in his head, just terrified thoughts that swirled as if caught in a storm. He didn't know where he was, only that he was sitting in a bed. It was enough to have him thinking of being back within the walls of Gaunt Manor. At this sheer idea, he suddenly became agitated, frantically searching his bed, under his pillow or even in the space between wood and mattress. Nothing. His panic increased, his hands exploring the bedside table instead, jostling a stack of books and pushing an oil lamp in their frantic search. Nothing there either. Tears welled up in his eyes. Where was it? Where had his wand gone ?

In his confusion, a thought far worse than being back at the Gaunt Manor surfaced. The thought that perhaps his wand, Hogwarts, the Undercroft and the twins had all just been a long dream from which he'd just awakened. No. These months of adventures he would never have dreamed of before couldn't be a figment of his imagination alone. Trying to regain his composure, he repositioned himself in the middle of the bed and did the one thing he knew best : trusting his senses. 

As he calmed down, the snoring of the room's three other occupants became more defined, as well as the ruffling of Nyx's feathers on her perch beside his bed. There was also the monotonous sounds of a clock, and the faint crackling of ember from a wood stove. A warm atmosphere that just didn’t fit Gaunt Manor. A reassured sigh escaped him, his shoulders slumping as his body relaxed. He was in his dormitory at Slytherin. He was at Hogwarts.

Alas, it was no time for celebration. His wand was still missing, surely fallen out of his grasp from his startled awakening.

"Sebastian," he whispered to the bed opposite his own.

Everyone kept snoring just the same.

"Sebastian!" he said more loudly, but without gaining any reactions either. The other three were sleeping soundly. Ominis couldn't blame them. The very first Quidditch training had been held the day before and all his three roommates had signed up in the hope that their skills on broom would earn them a place on the official Slytherin team. It wasn't every year that all the students could qualify, and Sebastian was determined to achieve the feat of being the first of his age to join the team in over twenty years.

Ominis resigned himself to getting out of bed. He realized that he had only the vaguest idea of the layout of the room. After all, why memorize places when he had a wand to do it for him? He'd almost forgotten what it felt like to be blind. Ever since that first day in Ollivanders' store, his wand had never left his hand, to the point of taking it with him under the blanket. If he'd left it on the bedside table as he'd willed himself to do many times, he probably wouldn't have to search his way across the room to ask for someone to pick it up for him.

As soon as he took his first step out of bed, something stopped him in his tracks. A sensation, or rather, an impression, a bit like when feeling someone's gaze on your back and turning around to realize that your instincts had been on point. The difference here was that it felt like sensing his own gaze on him. It was strange, to say the least, and upon concentrating, Ominis suddenly realized he wasn't as blind as he'd first thought. There was something vague outlined in his mind, something his fear had concealed until now. He recognized a portion of paved floor and what he guessed to be a pile of wood logs. Intrigued, he headed toward the center of the room, where he remembered the central stove to be. And the closer he got, the more it gained in detail. With each step, the perceived area also grew larger, and when he saw his own silhouette appear in his mind, he understood. His wand was there, at his feet, lodged in one of the joints between the stone slabs.

He picked it up, and the room with its furniture and its occupants suddenly became clearer, its outlines as refined as he had been used to these past months. He could even perceive a bit of the corridor behind their closed door. His lips stretched into a smile. He returned to his bed with ease and relief, savoring his freedom once again. 

He couldn't get back to sleep however. He still couldn’t get over the idea he had been able to find his wand on his own. Even without having it in his hand, his wand had kept on detecting his surroundings, and he, at “seeing” through it. 

Though his relief was immense, it was short-lived. It had been months since he'd had a nightmare. That nightmare. He'd thought leaving that damn manor behind him would relieve him from it, as it was the place he had experienced it the most, but that apparently was just wishful thinking. The last time was the night the old elf Grumpy had caught him listening to his aunt and father's heated exchange. His sleep had been disturbed by all the questions and confusion aroused by their mysterious argument. And he knew better now that too much anxiety was just calling for night terrors. And it seemed that today, circumstances weren't so different. 

For over two months now, he had heard nothing back from his aunt. Two long months without a letter, when he had never failed to send her one every week. Beside his bed, Nyx's letter basket had remained empty, while the little owl never failed to deliver his issue of the Daily Prophet every morning at breakfast. But as days went by, he no longer had the heart to read the news of the wizarding world, his mind too busy waiting for a reply to his messages, the contents of which he remembered perfectly well. 

 

"My dear aunt, I've been feeling much better at Hogwarts for several days now. Do you remember the twins I told you about? Today I've become their friend, and I can't thank them enough for the help they've given me, and which I continue to receive. I learn a lot from them, fantastic things but also worrying things. Things about the Gaunts. I knew our name was feared, but not to this extent. You're my aunt and I'm asking you to be as frank as possible. Is our family really tainted by black magic? And is the Ministry as suspicious of us as I heard? It's not a very pleasant subject, but I had to ask. I wish it was otherwise, and I hope one day this image can change. Looking forward to your letter.

 

Alas, this was the first of many unanswered letters. Even though he was convinced his aunt in no way reflected his family's image, he feared to have hit a nerve. The following letters had been on a much lighter note, with the slightest event being an extra opportunity to write to her.

 

"Dear Aunt Noctua, I hope you are well. I'm worried about the lack of answers from you, you must have a lot of work at the greenhouse. As for me, classes continue and today Mrs. Garlick congratulated me in botany class. She even told me about you and your work, of which she has been a fervent admirer for some years. Anne and Sebastian are doing well, and I'm happy to see them every day. Marvolo and Theresia seem to have disappeared from my daily routine, and I'm far from being unhappy about that. Many people are surprised by their discretion, which is not what they've been used to coming from them. I remain convinced, however, that they are still up to something. I hope time will prove me wrong."  Looking forward to reading from you."

 

"Dear Aunt Noctua, I hope my letters reach you because I miss yours terribly. Today I learned something incredible about the Itero spell. Did you know it could transcribe the voice it memorizes directly onto parchment? Mrs. Weasley showed me the trick this morning, when I forgot my quill in the dormitory. It's still good to know, but even if the use is almost similar, it won't replace your quick-quote quill for all that. It's far too precious a gift. The Halloween festivities are in full swing, and speaking of festivities, I was wondering if I could come back to Brightview over Christmas. My heart goes out to you." 

 

With each passing day, the lack of answers had gnawed at him a little more, to the point it was now disturbing his nights. And no matter how much Anne and Sebastian tried to reassure him, nothing helped.

He let out an annoyed sigh, got out of bed and silently left the room. The Slytherin Common Room was deserted at this hour, so much so that he could hear his bare feet reverberating off the stone walls, the flame of candles flickering on the chandeliers, magic brooms scrubbing the carpeted floor or sounds from the lake's depths echoing through the great stained-glass windows. On the other side, Ominis could hear the sound of schools of fish twirling in the currents. He stood there, listening and following their mouvements for several minutes, their mesmerizing dance surprisingly soothing his worried mind. 

Then, a presence.

It was bigger than the few fishes his wand had picked up, but the wall of seaweed was far too dense to clearly make out what it was. Slowly, Ominis moved closer to the glass, his wand raised in the direction of the intriguing shape. Then, as the thick curtain of seaweed parted, he gasped.

It resembled in every way what had been swimming under his boat the day he and his fellow first-years-to-be crossed the lake to reach Hogwarts. It had a head, a torso, two arms and a long, undulating body like a sea serpent. After a few seconds of observing the creature, he wondered if it could see him through the glass, for its attention seemed entirely focused on his raised wand. It sinuous body moved gracefully, if not from the middle part where the tail presented a odd angle, surely the consequences of an old injury.

 

 

Ominis didn't know how long it had stayed there, obsessed with his wand, before its strange face turned towards him. The creature came down to his level and began to observe him in the same way. Under its scrutinizing gaze, Ominis didn't dare move, but that didn't stop him from analyzing it as well, from its strange face with its large, bulging eyes, to its thick hair reminiscent of the surrounding flora and its clawed webbed hands. He'd heard of mermaids before, but being in the presence of one made him wonder if he hadn’t fallen asleep after all.

The mermaid was very close to the glass now, her attention alternating between him and his wand, as if she didn't know on what to focus. Without knowing what came over him, Ominis caught himself stammering, "He-Hello".

The creature suddenly lurched back. For a moment, both remained motionless, their attention riveted on the other. He couldn't read her expression. Was it fear? Was it surprise? Yet, he had no time to ponder the question any longer as she gave a powerful tail wag and disappeared through the weeds.

Ominis rushed to the window, but it was too late. The long seaweeds were already back in place. He waited for a while, even sitting in one of the wide armchairs in the hope that she would reappear. But there was no sign of the mermaid. Lulled by the movement of fish schools and long kelp in the current, sleep eventually overtook him. He didn't feel the enthusiastic return of the mermaid on the other side of the thick windows a few minutes later, nor was he awake to meet the two other congeners she had brought back with her.

 

 

The Undercroft had unsurprisingly become a hideout for the three First years. They would meet there almost every day, from the end of the last lesson of the day to the evening banquet. The place hadn't changed that much since Ominis showed it to the twins, except for a few extra cushions on the floor, now cleaned of its thick layer of dust. The existing furniture was also more than enough to keep them happy. The only downside was the lighting. The twins were eager to learn their first fire spell just to light the torches on the walls, which could only do better than a few candles here and there or the faint glow of their wand (as well as keeping them warmer than their coat could ever do). 

That evening, there were only Anne and Ominis in the room. Sebastian was out practicing his broom flying again for the Quidditch selections. Anne hadn't missed any of his training sessions, but she had preferred to stay with Ominis this time. His wand might be full of surprises, following Sebastian speeding away on his broomstick dozens of meters in the air was just too much to ask from it. 

“What’s taking him so long?" Anne said impatiently, clapping her pocket watch noisily. “Let’s hope he hasn't fallen off his broom. You would be surprised how he can lose all sense of caution when it comes to showing off."

Ominis didn't reply, his attention entirely focused on his book. For yet another morning, Nyx had returned “empty-clawed”. Trying not to think too much about it or his desire to write an umpteenth letter to his aunt, he focused all his energy into studying. His grades had never been so good as of lately, but he didn’t care much. He was now reading his fourth book in just a month, this one titled " Rudiments of Potions ". This field was a real pet peeve of his. He could never get the right dosage, let alone know if the potion had the right color at all. Yet, he'd much rather get worked up about it if it would keep his mind occupied. 

Although he could feel her worried gaze on him, Anne said nothing else and shoved her hand into a box of sweets beside her. They could thank Pr Ronen if they had sweets tonight. Both Anne and Sebasian got them as rewards for one of the educational games the professor always liked to propose to his students. Winning by ex aequo , the prize was doubled and each had left the class with a box of Bertie Bott's Every Flavour Beans. With their flavors as varied as they were unexpected (Sebastian had been unlucky enough for the earwax flavour to be his first pick), the Sallows had seen in these sweets another attempt at lifting their friend's low spirits.

Finally, the hands spinning on the entrance door echoed in the distance and Ominis heard Sebastian's footsteps tumbling down the stairs.

"Hey, guys! Look what I've found!" he exclaimed as he throttled excitedly into the Undercroft, a book brandished above his head.

"I knew it! snapped Anne, outraged. How could I be so naive, worrying something might have happened to you? Of course you’d be off to get into the Restricted section! Again!" 

"And successful I was !" he beamed as he reached them.

"You don't have to break the rules every time you want one of Dad’s books, or just any book off-curriculum, you know ? See for yourself."

She then held out the book she had in her hands.

" Apparating and other means of magical transports '” read Sebastian. “Where did you find it? Uncle Solomon said we wouldn’t learn magic transportation until Fifth Year!"

"Well, I happen to know a Fifth Year who was kind enough to lend it to me. How simple is that ! It's easy and at least there's no risk to get in detention."

"To win without risk is to triumph without glory." Sebastian answered unconvinced. He then presented his newly "acquired" book, Ominis leaving it to Anne to read the title.

" Transfiguration and metamorphosis of 3rd category '. This is way beyond our reach, Sebastian! By the time I've learned about teleportation, you'll still be pulling your hair out on this book. If you're so keen on bringing something from the Restricted Section, it might as well be useful to us, don't you think? "

"I don’t mind, as long as it fuels my curiosity," grumbled his brother, who opened the book as he sat cross-legged. "A girl from Griffondor, Natsaï I believe, told me about it during today’s training. Did you know that where she comes from, all her family members are animagi ? That means they can change into animals! I bet you my Bertie Bott's Beans that she can shapeshift, too!"

"Well, if you had to change into an animal, you'd make an excellent mule, stubborn as you are."

"And you, a sneaky little weasel."

Ominis would have sneered under normal circumstances, but he showed no sign of listening, barely moving his wand from the book in front of him. Perhaps it was his lack of reaction that convinced the other two to cease their bickering.

The room was plunged into its characteristic silence again, only disturbed by the sound of pages turning, a hand dipping into boxes of beans or gasps leaving Sebastian’s mouth as he read, reacting at seemingly every paragraph. 

"By Merlin!" he exclaimed at some point. 

"What is it now ?" exasperated Anne in annoyance.

"I never imagined learning to turn into an animal would take months! Was Natsai really able to pull this off ?" he replied in amazement. "It is written there one needs to keep a mandrake leaf in their mouth all day long for months! And there, that lunar cycles need to be followed, as well as the passage of storms, and…”  

"When I said it was out of your league, I wasn't kidding”, pointed Anne. “I knew there would be a reason for animagi to be so rare. That part alone was enough to give me a headache. I'd say to take a break. Anyone interested in a game of Gobstones?"

Ominis instinctively raised his wand at this, a gesture the twins didn't fail to notice.

"Great idea! Will you join us, Ominis?" inquired Sebastian, closing his book even though he'd only just begun to read it. His friend's willingness to put his desires before his own touched Ominis, and he didn't have the heart to refuse. Too much reading also tended to make him drowsy, especially with his lack of sleep.

They got into a circle on the floor and began a game. Ominis had improved a lot since his first time playing it. Even if he was still the one who made the most mistakes, his shots were most of the time decent, his penalty limited to a few stinking drips. The studious atmosphere had given way to a more playful one. Anytime they could, the twins were eager to jeopardize each others' performance, if it could help Ominis to enjoy himself, leading to loads of foul liquid shooting around. But just as their plan seemed to bear its fruits, Ominis stiffened.

A clicking sound.

"Shh!" he said hurriedly.

Everyone recognized the faraway sound of the Undercroft door unlocking at once. 

"Someone's coming. No, two people!" said Ominis in a low but hurried voice.

At once, Anne and Sebastian quickly picked up their Gobstones, tucked their cushions under their arms and blew the few candles scattered around.

“Teachers?" inquired Sebastian skeptically.

“I- I don't know." replied Ominis as he joined Anne behind some huge crates, a frown on his face. It seemed the Undercroft wasn't as secret as he'd wished. He trusted the twins to have kept the password secret to themselves. Had someone seen or heard them enter?

The footsteps drew closer, starting their descent in the spiraling stairs. Their owners made no effort to be discreet, their voices muffled by the narrow opening. Still, it didn’t stop Ominis' blood from running cold. The first person entered the room, their words echoing off the walls.

"Holy Basilisk, what's that foul stench?"

It was Theresia, followed closely by Marvolo. Before Ominis could get over his surprise, and question the reason for their presence, Sebastian seemed about to move, no doubt to chase them from their hiding place. But Anne quickly grabbed him by the sleeve, her index pressed to her lips.

"Why have you brought me to this disgusting place ? It smells like a sewer!" asked Theresia, her hand covering her mouth.

"The sooner you tell me what's wrong, the sooner we can get out of here!" spat Marvolo.

"We could very well talk about it in the dormitory," Theresia quipped, fanning her hand in front of her upturned nose.

"And risk being heard? Even paintings have ears at Hogwarts, Theresia. You're lucky I remembered that rat hole." he said, waving his lit wand around the pitched black room.

A few seconds passed and all that sounded were Marvolo's impatient footsteps. Ominis still couldn't believe that they knew about this place too, but not as much as the unfamiliar tension that seems to linger between the two of them. Had Noctua shared its location with his brother and sister before she did to him? It would have made another reason to write to her again.

“Well?”said Marvolo expectantly.

“I'm afraid I'm not up to it. I've never done this before."answered Theresia. 

"What’s with you now? We're right on schedule. If our father asked you to take on this role, that means he trusts in your abilities.

“Trust..." said Theresia dismissively.  Just like he trusts his stupid sister?”

Ominis stopped breathing, either to not miss any of what was being said or from the anger rising in his throat.

“Don’t compare yourself with her. replied Marvolo. I know Father doesn’t entirely trust in her, but he needs her. She's too involved now to step back. Her gift for plants is…”

"I need more time," interrupted Theresia. Father is too eager and I fear rushing things will sabotage everything..."

"I'll convince him to wait long enough for you to be ready. But time is running out."

 

 

Ominis felt Anne and Sebastian exchange a glance. Theresia said nothing, her head kept low, as if in deep thought. Ominis has never heard her so incertain, to the point he even thought something in her voice sounded....off. It was as if she had a lump in her throat, but nowhere close to sound like she was holding tears. Nonetheless, it was undoubtedly the first time he heard her true self.

"And don't think I enjoy this anymore than you do," continued Marvolo.  If I had to choose, I'd rather bully a few idiots pretending to be wizards, like our stupid little brother and the insolent worms with him. But we have a duty now. It’s time we make a real difference."

"You're right," Théresia straightened up, only to curl again in disgust. “Oh, that smell! Let's find a better place next time!"

"There won't be a next time," growled Marvolo. “Promise me you won't mention it again, do you understand?"

And with a nod from Théresia, both Gaunts left.

Ominis, Anne and Sebastian didn't dare move a muscle, until they heard the muffled slam of the door echoing in the corridor.

"What was that ?" said Sebastian, straightening up.

But Ominis didn't answer, as he rushed towards the door with a determined step.

“Ominis! Where are you going? exclaimed Anne, before casting a quick Lumos .

“I’m catching up with them. They know what's going on with my aunt.”

 

 

Notes:

Theresia Gaunt - 1885

Theresia is Marvolo Gaunt's second child, born a year after her brother Marvolo Gaunt Jr, and five years before Ominis, the youngest of the Gaunt children. She has been a student at Hogwarts five years now, along with her older brother. Although she is not very talkative, her attitude is cold and manipulative. Ominis doesn't trust her anymore, as he had been fooled many times by her misleading facades. She stays with Marvolo most of the time, going along his mischieves, if not encouraging them. She has great skills when it comes to transfiguration spells, a talent Ominis had always thought to fit her deceptive manners.

Chapter 10: The warning

Notes:

Also available in French.

The 10th chapter is here (taking even longer to publish than the previous one...) I am so happy to have reach this milestone! We're halfway through! Well, almost as I first planned for 19 chapters, and it turns out there're 21 of them on my draft sheet now x)

Again, I am sorry for the time it takes every installment, I wish I could work faster but there are many things happening simultaneously, and choices had to be made x) unfortunately, it won't get any faster, and I might as well announce now that i am taking a little break (or at least slow down even more, sorry... :') ) as projects have stacked up on the side and I definitely need to attend to them now haha.

Nonetheless, please do not worry, I promised myself I wouldn't give up this story until I see it closed! I wish you a great reading and as always, do not hesitate to leave your feedback, it's always a pleasure!

 

 

  CHAPTER 10 - The warning

 

Ominis tracked down Marvolo and Theresia to the central hall door, as they were heading to the schoolyard. Although he couldn't make out their faces as he approached, their body language betrayed a certain amusement at seeing him coming towards them, both being used to the other way around. They didn't bother to stop their pace however, as if determined to make things difficult for Ominis, forcing him to stand in their way.

"What do you want, you little traitor?" said Marvolo in annoyance.

Ominis quickly dismissed the unexpected nickname, focusing on the task at hand. He had spared a few minutes before reaching them, using this lapse of time to carefully think out his choice of words, because getting answers was one thing, avoiding arousing suspicion about the Undercroft was another. As their hiding place to him and the Sallow, the room had effectively allowed them to witness the strange conversation between the two Gaunts. A conversation obviously meant to be private. He was tempted to ask them about it, but in fear of busting their cover, he preferred the safest approach and went straight to the point.

"It's about my aunt," he said simply.

"Well, what about her?" replied Marvolo with a frustrated sigh.

"Have you heard from her?"

His brother huffed, amused, in a way someone thinking back to something would do. Ominis frowned, not reassured in the least at the smile in the other’s voice.

"Well, I might just let you know that now she's got you out of her way, your dear aunt is finally entirely devoted to her family’s interests. Her current work could even revolutionize the Gaunt business as we know it!"

Anne and Sebastian finally catched up with Ominis, but he barely reacted to their presence. His attention was entirely focused on his brother’s face, as it distorted in disgust upon seeing the Sallow approaching.

"So... is she alright?" Ominis merely asked, keeping his voice from lifting too much with relief.

"Oh, do you miss her letters?" taunted Theresia, her usual arrogance back in full swing in comparison with how uncertain she'd sounded back in the Undercroft. But Ominis was far more disturbed by the question in itself, for he hadn’t mentioned any letter yet. 

"Let’s be honest." Marvolo hastened to say as he stepped in front of his sister. “Now that you’re no longer part of her life, your dear aunt is simply trying to be forgotten."

"Nonsense!"

"Or she had erased your pathetic existence from her own memory! How about that?" he continued, opening his arms as if he was stating obvious facts. “Obliviating people is her specialty, nobody could know that better than you.”

Ominis could feel his face boil with anger. Whatever the circumstances, they just wouldn’t stop lying or manipulating him. It came with no real surprise, but he really was growing sick of it. Just as he was about to finally throw some longing home truths to his brother, Anne stood in front of him, her foot stamping the floor.

"That's enough!  How can you say such a thing? How monstrous can you be?"

"You’ll speak when you’re asked to, you insolent brat!" growled Theresia as she stepped forward in return, her head raised contemptuously. “Leave the talk to the purebloods."

"Hey!" interposed Sebastian, outraged.

"Memory spells are not to be taken lightly!" continued Anne, seemingly unfazed by the rising tension around her. “Terrible things can happen because of them ! People can suffer!"

Much to Ominis’s astonishment, Anne’s words had his rage completely snuffed out, leading his previous concerns to switch entirely to her, for there was no mistaking the distress in her anger.

"Now that’s just funny.” Marvolo replied with a laugh, his finger then pointing at Ominis. “Well, you'll be delighted to know that his precious aunt is one of the best there is on those types of spells." 

Nothing but a surprised gasp came out of Anne's mouth.

"Let's be on our way, Marvolo," said Theresia with a condescendent chuckle, putting an inviting hand on her brother's shoulder. “Don’t let those lost little rats distract us any longer.”

"Wait!" called Ominis, but they left without even looking back. The answers he got were definitely not what he had hoped for, and although he was ready to rush after them again, the lack of reaction from the twins around him stopped him in his tracks.

"Is it true, Ominis?" said Anne, her voice strangely pained. Has your aunt wiped memories out, just as he said?"

“Don’t fuss too much on that, Anne...” interjected Sebastian with a resigned sigh. “This guy is just full of sh…”

"Yes," Ominis replied, to Sebastian's surprise.“ It was her mission when she worked for the Ministry's Department of Magical Disasters."

Ominis couldn't get over how disconcerting the sadness in Anne’s question had been. Even Sebastian felt strangely… down. Casting this spell was not uncommon at all, and most of the time, it only involved Muggles, non-magic folks. While its use was highly supervised, the spell was necessary, especially when the secrecy of the wizarding world was at stake. Such a gargantuan task was endorsed by the Ministry of Magic and its agents, Noctua learning the trick as one of them. She had always been intrigued by Muggles and had greatly enjoyed working in their settings. But she had grown tired, if not disgusted, by the idea of fiddling with their mind. On the insistence of the family to return to her roots, she had decided later on to join her brother’s business and had devoted herself entirely to magic botany, another of her passions. Anne's question, however, made Ominis uneasy.

"But that was a long time ago, and… she doesn't do that anymore," he hastened to add, before cringing at the memory of the Muggle policemen by the lake at Little Hangleton. "What… what’s wrong, Anne?"

She sighed, but didn't answer. Sebastian took the liberty of answering for her.

"It's just that... erasing memories is quite a serious act. In our opinion, at least..."

"Well, if anyone was to ask for MY opinion," Anne said with clenched fists, "there wouldn't be just three unforgivable spells, but four!"

And then she stomped off, leaving the two boys behind. Sebastian immediately followed suit, inviting Ominis with him. At the mention of the unforgivable spells, Ominis remembered an old conversation with his aunt. That same conversation that had taught him to stay away, in any case, from the forbidden magic and the sacrifices it could imply. Of all known spells, three were considered the most terrible indeed, labeled as unforgivable for they could only succeed when shown infallible composure and determination from the person who cast them. Three terrible spells that could only work if one meant to inflict their terrible outcomes : manipulation, pain and death.

 

 

In the end, Ominis was back to square one. Another month had passed without any news from his aunt. The Halloween festivities had happened without a hitch, for everyone's enjoyment. He had tried to get into its creepy yet prank-prone ambiance but he hadn’t found the comfort he needed in them. Although playing along with his friends's jokes, nobody had really managed to frighten him even a bit, neither by surging out from a corridor turn, nor even from under his own bed. In fact, his acute hearing or the vigilance of his wand had just jeopardized anyone’s plan to give him a successful scare, even from a very dedicated Sebastian. Only a few powerful thunderclaps from the recent thunderstorms had had him jumping in fright.

As the Halloween celebrations ended, the question of what he would do during Christmas resurfaced. It was customary for students to return to their families for the occasion, while others could stay at the castle if they had nowhere to spend their holidays. Ominis wanted nothing more than to return to his aunt's home, just to assess in person what could possibly explain her lack of answer. That is why, even weeks later, Marvolo's words were still haunting his thoughts. He didn't want to believe a single word he had said, but deep down, he knew there must be some truth in disguise. Ominis knew Noctua was working, as the dedicated person that she was. However, he couldn't believe Marvolo for saying she was alright without him. Or just alright at all. Sadly, the weeks without any correspondence from her just reinforced that uncomfortable idea, making the prospect of spending Christmas at Hogwarts more and more inescapable.

Obviously, his nightmare still plagued some of his nights. But he would take advantage of these sleepless moments to return to the common room window in the hope of interacting with the mermaid again. His patience had paid off only recently, as he had finally recognized her distinct tail shape on the other side of the glass window. Displaying that same fascination for his wand, he had moved it around just for her to follow its movements like a cat would follow a fly. However, despite her playful display, her movements had seemed very stiff, as if all of her senses had been on alert. He had refrained from saying a word, in fear of scaring her away once again, a reaction he still couldn't really explain. The glass was very thick, but perhaps the mermaid's hearing was so sensitive she could hear through walls. And that the human voice was just an unbearable sound to their ears?

In order to have a better understanding of the creature, he had swapped his book on Arithmancy for one on aquatic magical creatures on the advice of Mrs. Howin, their professor of Beasts. And the next day, it was with an almost scientific mindset that he braved the chilling air on the shores of the Black Lake.

His head tucked in his thick scarf, Ominis was sitting on a rock near the water, a few meters away from the main road to the school. One hand held his book open on his legs while the other skimmed its pages with his wand. Although he missed the warmth of the Undercroft, he felt less comfortable to go there since Marvolo and Theresia had barged in it. Besides, he also wanted to appreciate the lake during the day for once, not through some stained glass.

The air wasn’t so cold for the end of November. And from the water lapping peacefully just a few meters ahead, he could also tell that the lake wasn't completely frozen yet. He strained his hearing for any sign in the water, although his chances of spotting any lake creature were very close to zero. However, since his first day in the boat, he knew that they could venture close to the surface. He was just careful not to get too close to the edge. The lake may be hosting many creatures, there was no way to know if they were as peaceful as the mermaid had seemed to be. And today, the twins weren't there to look after him. Sebastian had made the Quidditch team and was training on the pitch for the upcoming match. Anne, on the other hand, wasn’t having such a great time, spending her day bedridden after catching a really bad cold.

He turned another page of his book. The chapter dedicated to mermaids was still several pages away, but he preferred not to skip any parts, thus discovering other water creatures such as Grindylow and Muskrill. Just as he was about to get to a new chapter, a shout rose up behind him, startling him to the point his book almost ended up pages down in the snow.

" Watch oouuut !"

Ominis spun around towards the person, hearing their hurried footsteps skid on the snowy slope, along with a series of strange bouncing noises. At first, he thought stones were rolling down his way, until he heard said "stones" making irritated… snarls?

" Pro-Protego !" he casted hurriedly, detaching his wand from the page of his book to draw it behind him. The toppling objects, about the size of tiny cauldrons, bounced off his magic barrier only inches from his head. He could hear them grunting as they scattered at his feet. Ominis could make out the silhouette of a young girl striding towards him soon after, a small purse in her hand from which she drew a generous handful of its content. In a sweeping gesture, she covered the strange orbs jiggling on the ground with some sort of powder (so thin Ominis almost thought she had just waved at nothing). Only when they stopped chewing in thin air, apparently calmed by the powder, that Ominis noticed those things had big snapping mouths.

"Are you alright?" said the girl out of breath as she reached him, her hands on her bent knees. "That’s what you get *breaths in* when you trip with a *breaths out* partially closed bag!" she added in between several gulps of air.

"What's... what are those?" asked Ominis, pointing at the orbs on the ground, still very tense from the mishap.

"Chinese chomping cabbages." she laughed. Ominis brows rose on his face in surprise. Now, those cabbages had become as harmless as their regular counterparts, allowing the girl to hastily stow them away in her satchel.

"Please don't tell anyone you saw… Huh?"

"Hi, Poppy," Ominis replied with a small smile.

"Ominis! What a surprise! I wasn’t expecting to find you here! Aren't you with the Sallows today?"

Just like him, Poppy was a first-year student, but sorted in Hufflepuff. She was a little shorter than him and had shoulder-length straight hair. Aside from her appearance, it was her jovial and bubbly personality that had struck Ominis the most. He would chat with her regularly when their houses shared the same classes. She was also one of the first people he interacted with at Hogwarts, for she had been in the same boat as him on the day of his arrival, along with Amit, now in Ravenclaw, and Cressida, sorted in Gryffindor. Although Anne, Sebastian and him were inseparable, the twins weren't his only interlocutors nowadays. Many students in his class had opened up to him since he had met them, which made his life at school far more comfortable now.

"Everything all right down there?" called a voice from the road further up. Ominis quickly identified it as Cressida's. The two girls, despite being from different houses, had become very good friends.

"Yes! Disaster averted!" replied Poppy with a smile. She turned to Ominis, her hand over his cheek, and whispered : "If you could keep this little incident a secret, I would be very grateful! Wouldn’t Mrs. Garlick hear about a student who almost ended up as Chomping cabbages’s snack because of my foolishness, or else, I’m good for a real dressing down!"

Ominis nodded, amused. Poppy’s enthusiasm really was unwavering, whatever the circumstances. She thanked him with a little bounce and was about to join her friend when she exclaimed:

"Oh, a Kelpie!"

Ominis suddenly aimed his wand at the lake, expecting to see an aquatic horse break the surface of the water at any moment.

"Sorry, I mean, in your book!" laughed Poppy apologetically.

"Oh."

"Are you interested in aquatic creatures too? Kelpies are among my favorites!"

"You could say that." replied Ominis "I'm trying to look mermaids up, actually."

"Really? Good thing the lake is full of them then! How I'd love to catch a glimpse of one."

"Just as I thought!” exclaimed an amused voice. Cressida had just come down the hill as well and was standing behind them with her arms crossed. The girl, also in her first year, had long curly hair, and on her nose, sat a pair of perfectly round glasses. "What else could possibly keep Poppy Sweetings from joining her friend if not a conversation on magical creatures?"

"Oh I am sorry, Cressida! You know there really is no stopping me when it comes to them!"

"I take it the library will be waiting then?" sighed Cressida.

"Oh no, don't mind me," Ominis interjected, although the idea of chatting some more about the creatures of the depths with Poppy was more than welcome. "You can be on your way, I wouldn't want to disturb any of your plans."

"I know how stubborn Poppy can be.” replied Cressida. “When she has something in mind, there is no other way to get rid of it than giving into it. In fact, that's why we went out to see the lake today. Alas, no sign of that famous giant squid. Maybe she'll have better luck with you?"

"Maybe indeed!” exclaimed Poppy excitedly.

"Er...yes." replied Ominis, who hadn't expected his day to take this turn. "But I doubt I'll be as good a lookout as Cressida." He waved his wand to make his point.

"Oh, don't worry about that, it'll be a way to get to know each other better! I'll meet you at the banquet, Cressida, I promise!”

"I'm counting on it," the other replied, then chuckled: “Good luck, Ominis, you don't know what you're getting yourself into."

Poppy just made an amused pout and waved to Cressida as she headed back towards the castle.

“What a strange coincidence that the three of us have decided to observe the lake on the same day” she then said as she sat beside him. “Many students say that the giant squid had never been this shy before. They are quite disappointed not to have seen him yet, myself included. I suspect something in the lake might disturb it. The Headmaster doesn’t really seem to care. Have you noticed anything unusual by any chance? You know, with your wand?"

As time went by, Ominis’ wand was indeed perceiving a wider area than in the first few months. However, for it to perceive into the very depths of the lake was quite a far-fetched idea. But then, why couldn’t it? Ominis would be far from surprised if it could show such a feat if given more time and practice. 

"Well, I am afraid I haven’t."

"That’s alright. Besides, the giant squid isn’t the only creature that lives in the Lake. There are plenty of equally fascinating species, like mermaids!"

Ominis nodded with appreciation.

"Do you think we might spot one today?" he ventured.

"Well, I doubt it,” she sighed. “Grandmother told me they're nocturnal creatures. You're not likely to see- I mean, to meet- one, except if the weather is bad. They're also very wary of wizards."

Ominis hummed, trying to conceal his smile. Of course, she had no idea that he had actually encountered one of these creatures twice. And just like she said, it had been during the night indeed. "I wonder if they can understand us."

"Understand us?" blurted Poppy, a finger planted under her chin. "That’s a funny one. I don’t think they can. They don't speak human, that's for sure, as I doubt words are the best means to communicate underwater. There must be another way."

Ominis nodded, fascinated. It was interesting to talk to someone so passionate on this topic. Everyone knew Poppy had a fair knowledge about fantastic creatures, but it was the first time he could truly measure its extent.

 

 

"Are there many mermaids in the lake?"

According to her, several colonies.

"Where do they live?"

Some were solitary, others lived in communities. Hogwarts was apparently riddled with caves, more or less accessible, perfect for creatures to settle in. And the lake itself was said to contain emerged structures that were built long before Hogwarts was even founded.

They were so invested in their conversation they didn't really notice when they started strolling along the shores of the lake. Poppy told him how she'd learned everything from her grandmother and shared all the stories that came to her mind, like the time the giant squid had saved her grandmother from drowning. The same squid she'd dreamed to see and to thank, but without success. Poppy took this very much to heart, and Ominis now understood why she was so invested. Nothing could stop the stream of stories pouring out of her mouth, all of them involving a magical creature. And despite all her talking, she seemed very much at ease on the uneven terrain on which they were walking, as if she'd roamed these shores dozens of times.

In several places, obstacles forced them to leave the lake's rims and head back up into the woods, before returning to the gravelly ground of the banks a little further away. It was as they walked around one of these obstacles, a huge mossy boulder, that Ominis suddenly motioned for Poppy to be quiet. She immediately stopped talking, understanding what had alerted her companion.

A voice rose in the distance, accompanied by the sound of something moving erratically in the water. " Accio net!" the voice said. The voice of a man. He repeated the Accio spell several times, the noises in the water growing more and more vigorous. "That bloody... thing... still got some fight in it!"

Poppy immediately ducked down behind a bush, pulling Ominis by his sleeve. Ominis didn’t really understand her sudden caution, because rather than turning back, Poppy started to crawl towards the voice.

" Accio net!" continued the man, who seemed to be trying to draw something towards him with the spell, much as Ominis himself had been doing in class, except that here, the target was most likely whatever was struggling in the water. And judging by the racket from the waves, it was massive.

"By Merlin, I think I've finally hit the jackpot!" exclaimed the man excitedly, casting another Accio, and causing more struggles in the water. Ominis noticed his voice was reabsorbed, as if he wore a scarf over his face. 

"A poacher!" growled Poppy through gritted teeth. The rage in her voice was so unusual that Ominis would have thought it didn’t come from her.

"Are- are you certain?" he whispered, taken aback. But all he heard back was the sound of her footsteps fading away as she crept closer to the scene. This didn't reassure him in the least, and he didn't dare move from his hiding place. But as the sounds in the water grew more desperate, he forced himself to act. He set to join Poppy, careful to stay undetected.

Now that they were closer, the scene became clearer. The man was in a sort of cove, holding his wand with his arm drawn back above his head, as if some force was pulling on it. In front of him, something protruded out of the water and was connected to some sort of wooden crane. Upon concentrating, Ominis realized that it was a huge net in which an equally huge form was trapped, its long and sinuous body breaking the usually calm surface of the lake. With a few more spells, the creature would end up washed ashore.

Poppy suddenly jolted beside him.

"What are you doing?" exclaimed Ominis, careful not to raise his voice too much.

"He’s about to capture that poor creature!"

She shoved one of her hands into her pouch and Ominis had no trouble understanding her intentions. She drew it out in one swift motion, sending a handful of chomping cabbages in the direction of the man. The terrifying cabbages tripled in in size mid-air with a leafy pop , one of them suddenly closing on the man's hand holding the wand. The poacher let out a cry of surprise (or pain, Ominis couldn’t really tell), vigorously shaking his arm hoping the thing snatched around his wrist would let go. But that wasn’t for the cabbages that had fallen to the ground and started chasing him, scraping the snow-covered shores like cannonballs attracted by a huge magnet. The man spun around, desperately searching for his wand at his feet. But the latter had broken under the Cabbage's jaws, which had closed on it like a wolf's trap. Completely panicked, the man disappeared into the undergrowth with a howl, three hungry cabbages at his heels.

"Good riddance!" roared Poppy as she sprang up from the bushes, hands around her mouth.

Ominis was simply flabbergasted. He slowly stood up, unable to fight the amazement on his face.

"That... that was... incredible!"

"There's no time to lose, Ominis," urged Poppy. Let's free this poor creature before more poachers turn up!"

Without further ado, Ominis joined her as she descended into the cove. She rushed into the lake and began working on the parts of the net she could reach. Ominis gritted his teeth at the icy temperature seeping into his shoes and concentrated on the creature. It seemed to have calmed down, and from what he could make out, its long body measured several dozen meters and was almost as thick as a huge tree trunk.

"Damn these traps! I'm sure the lake is ripe with them!" protested Poppy, the net too thick to break with her bare hands.

"Is that the giant squid?" asked Ominis. But to his amazement, he got his answer in the most unexpected way.

.... Help ....

He froze. There could be no doubt. It was Parseltongue. Which made this creature... a giant snake.

"Holy hippogriff! A Scybdis! In this region?" marveled Poppy as she caught a brief glimpse of the creature's head. "Its mouth pouch is swollen, it may have its young in its mouth! We've got to hurry!"

Alas, the creature seemed to notice their presence and began to struggle again. No matter how hard Poppy and Ominis tried to loosen the net, the Scybdis's panicked movements prevented them from approaching, making the rescue even more difficult.

"We have no choice but to use magic!" exclaimed Ominis over the sound of the waves.

"Argh, you're right. So much for the rules. If I'd known, I wouldn't have sent my poor cabbages!"

She drew her wand and shouted, " Diffindo !"

 

 

One, two, three knots suddenly snapped, cut short by the spell. Ominis brandished his wand as well, ready to cast this recently learned spell from Pr Ronen. However, he wasn't asked to cut a simple piece of cloth this time. The creature was constantly moving, its long body forming rings as it rose from the water. Not wanting to risk injuring the beast, Ominis lowered his wand and tried to reassure it.

" It's all right. " he hissed in parseltongue, ignoring Poppy's surprised hiccup beside him. " We're friends. "

The Scybdis seemed to react to his words, and after several long minutes, Poppy's efforts seemed to pay off. Large sections of the net started to detach from the tattered creature and soon the last pieces of the net slid down its body, revealing several wounds on its scaly skin. Some were inflicted from the net, but others were older and ressembled claw marks. Poppy ceased her casting, hands on her knees as she caught her breath. A big smile was plastered on her face at the sight of the creature free to move again. It painfully lifted its head from the water in a gesture that anyone would have interpreted as thank. What Ominis heard, however, was nothing like that.

" Watch... out... friends... "

Before Ominis could even react, the creature had already dived below the surface and disappeared into the depths of the lake.

Poppy jumped in pure joy and hugged him tightly, unaware of what Ominis had just heard. Drenched to the skin, it didn’t take long before they started shivering, their teeth chattering. Not wanting to catch a really bad cold, they immediately proceed to the castle.

Poppy was more talkative than before, still quite excited by their incredible adventure, sharing her amazement at his capability to speak the language of snake. Ominis, on the other hand, had only one thing in mind : the mysterious warning.

And for a good reason.

The next day, sad news spread through the corridors of the castle. What had just been a mysterious warning had suddenly taken the form of a prediction. Amit, the star-loving boy from Ravenclaw, had disappeared.

 

 

Notes:

Poppy Sweeting - 1885

Poppy is a young and energic girl attending her first year at Hogwarts. With her fascination and empathy towards creatures of all kinds, it came with no surprise when she was sorted in Hufflepuff. She loves creatures with such passion she doesn't hesitate to carry some in her satchel or to help them when possible. Her grand-mother had taught her everything she knows, allowing her to identity creature with just a glimpse and to adopt her behavior accordingly in their presence. She is also very empathetic towards people, never hesitating to sensibilize others with her knowledge.

Chapter 11: Stranded

Notes:

Also available in French.

I'm so sorry it took so loooooong !! But here it is, at long last. I hope the wait wasn't too long to still appreciate the story. Next one should come out quicker that this one, I'll see to it!
Anyway, thanks a lot if you're still tagging along, it really is appreciated, and without further ado, have a great read!

 

 

  CHAPTER 11 - Stranded

 

The following morning, worry filled the air. The first course of the day was herbology class, held by the charming Mrs. Garlick. As always, she would greet her students with cheerful calls, never lacking to smile like she was known to. When he had heard her speak for the first time, Ominis had immediately identified her warm and caring personality. He'd also been surprised by her young age, so much so that the rest of the teaching team had seemed very old to him. The oldest of them, Professor Fig, could have been her grandfather that it wouldn't have been surprising. However, the woman's youth didn't make her any less experienced. Her lessons were as instructive and fascinating as those of Professor Ronen.

Alas, if there was any drawbacks to point out, it would be the teacher’s charm on her audience. To many girls’s exasperation, boys seemed to fall under the young teacher charm, an effect she didn’t even seem to be aware of, with her carefree and sometimes slightly over-the-moon airs. Anne had more than once nudged her brother out of his reverie. Fortunately for her, Ominis was more interested in the course itself than in the professor's good looks or potty humor. Having grown up with a renowned botanist, this class was one in which he did best. 

On this particular day, however, the teacher's charm didn't really seem to be working. Gathering her dispersed class had been quite the struggle as Mrs Garlick never really had to fetch for her students before. Even with everyone gathered inside her classroom, Ominis noticed that the hustle and bustle of the corridors hadn’t stopped. It didn't take a genius to figure out what was in everyone’s mind. 

Amit had been missing for over a day now. Everyone had been worried, but seeing that he didn’t even return to his dormitory had just got everyone even more concerned. All began the day before, when Amit had failed to attend the astrology class in the morning. That had aroused the first suspicions, beginning with the teacher of said class, Madam Shah, for whom Amit was the most committed student of all the First Years. Ominis and Sebastian weren’t part of the same First Year group as the missing boy. While one had been zooming on his broom on the Quidditch pitch, the other had been chasing poachers away and saving sea serpents. So they only heard about the worrying news until much later in the day. Anne, for her part, had been told the story only this morning, having spent the previous day bedridden. Fortunately, the medicine Mrs Blainey, the head nurse of the school, had given her had performed miracles, leaving her with just a slightly itchy nose. 

- "Everyone settle down, please." asked Mrs. Garlick from her desk at the other end of the room, her arms raised to invite everyone to their seats. "Mr Hobhouse, I've told you many times, this Venomous Tentacula is not going to devour you." she added upon seeing one of her students stop dead in his tracks in front of an enormous flower with sharp mouthed-shaped petals.

Herbology classes were held in one of the greenhouses that made Hogwart’s botanical wing. Wooden tables and stone planters were arranged in the center of the greenhouse, with stools placed around them. Ominis particularly enjoyed the herbology classes because they reminded him of his aunt (though his appreciation left a bitter taste in his mouth these last few months), but also because they call for his senses like nowhere else. He never got tired of feeling the humidity on his face, nor smelling the perfume from exotic plants that grew in the room. Today, however, the surrounding agitation made them hard to appreciate.

- "Be quiet, please! If you don't settle down, the class won't start," insisted Mrs. Garlick, not used to such agitation in her class. She took out her wand and touched a pile of books placed in front of her with its tip. The pile began to levitate and split, each book flying to each student.

- "Now then! Today we're going to study magical draining plants! Please open your textbook at page 39, point 4." said Mrs. Garlick excitedly. Unfortunately, few students seemed to reciprocate her enthusiasm, many still busy whispering amongst themselves. Even Ominis, usually attentive, had his mind elsewhere. 

- "Ominis! Isn't that your aunt?" Anne suddenly whispered to him, as he heard her manipulating the book that was given to them. He frowned, and proceeded to inspect his book as well by placing the tip of his wand on its cover. Liber lectio .

" Magical Draining Plants and their Serums - Noctua Gaunt "

His eyebrows jumped to his forehead. Not for a second had he imagined stumbling across one of his aunt's books during a class. Especially knowing about his family's reputation. But when coming to think of it, herbology was closely related to his aunt's work, and her reputation in botany most certainly superseded that of her name. As a renowned botanist, Noctua had indeed written a number of books. However, Ominis had never had the chance to put his hand on any of them. And it wasn't the kind of literature his aunt had been reading to him back in her cottage. So he couldn't wait to discover it for himself.

- “So you've got a writer in the family too," Sebastian said cheerfully. Ominis remembered that the twins’s parents were indeed writers as a living, and that some of their books could even be found in the Hogwarts library.

- "There's even a lithograph of her on the back cover," Poppy added from across the table. I can tell you share a family resemblance!"

Ominis smiled at his comrade, but inwardly, he wasn't so happy. Worry was gnawing at him everytime he thought of his aunt. In other words, almost constantly. What could his aunt be doing right now? Where was she? How was she? What if... what if something had happened to her? What if she'd disappeared too? Just like Amit had? Could this be the reason behind her silence? If not, why didn't she write to him anymore? What if .... Ominis banished the thought with a shake of his head, and concentrated on Mrs Garlick's words. Panicking wouldn’t serve him any good. 

- "Many magical plants are potions ingredients," Mrs. Garlick explained above the few conversations that still persisted. "Among them, there are plants which secretions, or serums, that can be used directly, provided you know what you're doing, of course," she quipped with a little laugh. Draining plants are such plants. In the pot in front of you grows a litholeech berrytree’sprout. Isn't he adorable?"

One thing that no longer surprised students after months of lessons with Mrs. Garlick was her way to talk to plants like she was talking to a small dog.

- "There are little vials on your table as well. With them, we're going to extract the magical essence produced by our dear little litholeech berrytree. Does anyone know what Lithos means? Lithos as in? Well?"

Alas, it would take more than a twig in a pot to get everyone’s attention, some students still invested in their own discussions.

- "That is latin for 'mineral' of course!" she said, trying hard to keep smiling. "As its name suggests, our dear little fellow has the ability to absorb the power of minerals on which it grows and give it liquid form. Isn't that fascinating? And today, you'll extract your own serum. Our dear little tree grows on blue chalcedony, a rock known to cure stuttering. Here's how to proceed!"

After a short demonstration involving quite the wacky spell, it was the students' turn to work "with the participation" of their berrytree. Alas, it didn’t take long for the greenhouse to fill up again with student chatter, none of which being related to the task in hand. Ominis could hear all sorts of theories on Amit's disappearance around him, some claiming to have seen the boy leaving the Ravenclaw common room or walking outside the castle just before he vanished. Alas, these allegations were as numerous as they were improbable. 

Ominis soon lost all attention to the class, his mind once again flooding with questions. He didn’t hear Mrs Garlick keep on listing all the berrytree properties, from its drainage capabilities, the properties of its extensive root network to its leaves where the serum was synthesized. Just as he didn't hear her abruptly interrupting and summoning something with a flick of her wand. Suddenly, a cacophonous sound invaded the greenhouse, causing all the students to jump onto their stools. Honk! Hooonk! Toot! Honk!  

All faces suddenly turned to Mrs. Garlick's desk. Beside her was a medium size pot that hadn't been there a few minutes before, in which were waving swaying flowers which seemed to cause all those petardant sounds.

 

 

- "If someone had told me I would have to use my honking daffodils to get my class’s attention one day, I wouldn't have believed them!" she said in a voice that had from a joke only its tone. " Silencio !" she said with her wand towards the daffodils, snuffing their noise drastically.

Mrs. Garlick losing her patience was unprecedented. The classroom went so silent that Ominis could hear the slight rustle of leaves of the plants around them. The teacher heaved a sigh, regaining her composure.

- "I understand your concern for your classmate. However, the school has already assigned some of your teachers to search for your friend. I'm sure he'll be back as quickly as the lotus blooms at the first ray of sunshine!"

This was new information for the class, and it seemed to have an effect. The tension eased a little, enough to restore the intended ambience to the class. The students finally regained their usual concentration, focusing on the subject at hand. "Does the litholeech berrytree need soil if it needs a stone to grow?" asked one student. "Are there other magic-draining plants?" asked another. "What would be the serum if it grew on a diamond?" "Could any of them drain a creature instead?"

Now that she had her class's undivided attention, Mrs. Garlick was infused with a new energy. However, at this last question, she took time to reflect, turning to the one who asked it, who was none other than Poppy.

- "I know it can sound odd..," said the girl, embarrassed. But it's just that... it reminds me of a parasite and... I wouldn't want some poor creature to suffer from it..."

- "Your question is of very great interest, Poppy," Mrs. Garlick replied with a smile. "As for now, we know mostly of cannibalistic specimens which feed on other plants, especially festering ones. That's when they're most vulnerable. However, I'm sure there are specimens that can drain healthy plants as well, or even creatures. That would make an excellent subject to teach one day! Ah, there's still so much botanical wonders out there just waiting to be discovered! "

Poppy nodded hastily and stammered her thanks to the professor. That wasn’t the answer she had hoped for and Ominis couldn’t stop a sympathetic smile from forming on his face. No matter what, his fellow comrade was always mindful of any creatures’s well-being, fantastic or not.

Faint sounds of students gathering in the corridors could be heard, indicating that the herbology session was coming to an end. 

- "This makes an excellent transition! For our next class, I'd like you to extract some Vultura vine, known to grow on dying wood. Your task will be to find them on the shores of the lake, where they abound at this time of year. They survive under the snow, it's up to you to search out for them!"

Then, with a flick of her wand, she opened the doors at the other end of the greenhouse.

- "Let’s the search begin!"

One by one, the students stowed their belongings and left the room, Mr Hobhouse avoiding the terrorizing plant with a whiper of fear.

- “Isn’t she worried?" asked Anne as they crossed the threshold of the greenhouse. First, the poacher (Ominis had told Sebastian of his astonishing adventure the day before as soon as he'd returned to his dormitory, only to learn in return that Amit had disappeared). And now, Amit who can’t be found. 

- “Maybe we just overthink it ? answered Sebastian while scratching the back of his neck. It might not be as bad as we think... He’s a big star lover, so maybe he just got lost on his way to a...a secret observatory or something. 

- “Sebastian, be serious for a minute," sighed Anne as they headed for the Great Hall for lunch.

- “I'm not making this up! Do you remember Madam Shah telling us about dozens of astrology tables all around the castle ? Perhaps he went searching for them, and got too far, and got lost? Let’s not forget the Forbidden Forest as well, who knows what lurks in there…”

- “That’s hardly possible," replied Ominis, holding his chin. Everyone is strictly forbidden to wander there. It would be irresponsible of Madam Shah to encourage a First-year to look for something in such a place.”

- “Unless something lured him there?" suggested Anne.

Ominis shaked in head in loss.

- “I sure hope not. If he did get lost, I just hope he didn't spend the night out in the cold," concluded Ominis. He couldn't think of anything plausible. His only clear thoughts were the Scybdis mysterious words.

Watch....out... friends.

As they were eating their lunch in the Great Hall, Mrs. Weasley entered the room with a determined step. She passed the four long tables, stepped onto the esplanade and clapped her hands, the sound echoing through the air like two thunderclaps. Ominis held his breath, hoping to hear the news everyone had been hoping for. 

- "Good morning, everyone. In view of the worrying situation regarding the absence of one of your classmates, all classes for the day for all years are postponed so that all teachers can be mobilized to resolve the matter. Make no mistake, however. You are still expected to work on your parchments and other assignments.

- “It is too early to make any assumptions, but I'm asking you all to exercise the utmost caution and vigilance. And if you have any information that could help in any way, please come and share it with us. I must remind you that nobody is permitted to enter the Forbidden Forest without authorization and without an escort. Thank you all for your comprehension."

Mrs. Weasley leaving was like turning on a switch. The hubbub of voices suddenly resumed, making Ominis wince in discomfort. Some students expressed concern, others showed no surprise at the announcement. But the subject that stood up to Ominis regarded the Headmaster. It seemed Phineas had preferred to mandate his assistant rather than make the announcement himself. Was he confident about the situation, or did he care about it like the back of his hand? His rare appearances convinced Ominis of that last statement. He focused back to his plate, but he wasn't very hungry anymore. His appetite was definitely gone when, amidst the cacophony of voices and table noise, he heard his brother's distant laughter echoing from the other end of the table.

 

 

With the rest of the day free of any classes, the twins had wanted to enjoy of bit of free time to rest, despite Mrs. Weasley's recommendations. Anne had suggested returning to the Undercroft for a game of Gobstones. Sebastian, on the other hand, had suggested going to the library to look for any other books written by Noctua Gaunt. Tempting as this idea had been, Ominis had insisted on taking on Mrs. Garlick's assignment instead, much to their surprise. Despite the previous day's event, he had a strange urge to return to the lake. Perhaps that with some luck, he'd be able to find Scydbis again and finally understand the meaning of her words.

The afternoon was well underway when the trio finally found some Vultura vine growing around an old tree stump. Anne, her nose dripping again from the cold winter air, had luckily spotted a few of its leaves sticking out of the snow, recognizable by their bird-wing shape as described in Noctua’s book. 

- "Do you remember what happened to me with Poppy yesterday?" asked Ominis suddenly, as the three of them held up a little vial to plant to collect some of its sap.

- "How could we forget?" laughed Sebastian incredulously. I wish I could have kicked that damn poacher's butt myself. 

- "And me, how I'd love to see that enormous creature you set free," said Anne with wistfully.

- "I don't know why, but... I've got a feeling that… she knows what's going on," confided Ominis.

The twins interrupted their sap harvesting without saying a word to look at each other. Ominous could clearly read their incomprehension in their posture.

- "She? You mean Poppy?" asked Sebastian, raising an eyebrow.

Ominis hesitated. Speaking parseltongue was not a gift that went down well, especially in Muggle communities, as it was irrefutable proof that its user belonged to the Slytherin bloodline. Salazar Slytherin may have been one of Hogwart’s founders, his vision of wizard purity still sparks conflicts between so-called pure-blood wizards and wizards of Muggle origin. The Gaunt family's hatred of them was a perfect example of this societal rift. However, Poppy's reaction to his ability to speak to the Scybdis had been quite enthusiastic. Deciding to trust in the twins, he found the courage to share what was on his mind. 

- "I am a parseltongue, he told them matter-of-factly. The Scybdis, she spoke to me. ‘Watch your friends. ’ Those were her words before disappearing. Don't you find it… odd? To hear that, only to discover the same evening that one of our comrades is nowhere to be found?"

The twins looked at each other again but said nothing, certainly taken aback by their friend's revelation. 

- "Some creatures can foresee things, perhaps she can do that as well? finally suggested Anne.

- "I highly doubt it," replied Ominis, shaking his head. Poppy seemed to know a lot about this creature, like many others. It's a faculty she wouldn't have hesitated to share with me. 

-" Do you think this Sci... Sid... that snake is still around?" Sebastian asked. 

Ominis said nothing, inclining his head thoughtfully.

-"How about we go look for her!" exclaimed Sebastian. If you can understand what she's saying, maybe you can call her? Can you talk to her?

Ominis nodded and an admiring smile spread across Sebastian's face.

- "Not that I want to be  a killjoy," said Anne, "but this lake is huge. And who's to say the poachers haven't come back for more? 

- "I need to know," replied Ominis without hesitation. I can't explain it to myself, but the Scybdis's words and Amit's disappearance don't seem like a mere coincidence to me. 

His determination soon got the better of Anne. She sighed, stood up and stretched out with a grunt.

- "All right, then. But you'd better hope we don't end up in a cage waiting to fight it in some sort of underground creature arena!

And so the trio set off in search of the Scybdis. Ominis led them to the spot where she had been rescued, but there was nothing left, not even a piece of the net that had held her captive. The poachers had undoubtedly erased every trace behind them and opted for a more secret location than this.

They spent almost an hour looking for any signs of the creature. Ominis' calls only impressed his two companions, and disturbed a few hibernating snakes and vipers. The timid sun was beginning to set and the air to get colder than it already was. Trampling through the snow, their shoes were soaked and their feet freezing. They had no choice but to turn back to the castle, hoping to be greeted by good news.

As they walked along the lake banks, Ominis turned around with alarm. He had just heard movement in the water, but not what he had expected. Whatever was making that noise seemed much smaller and more agitated than a huge sea serpent. And it was struggling. Then, a yell. The whole troop heard it and rushed back on their tracks in the direction of the voice. What they discovered froze them in place.

"Amit!"

On a distant bank, Amit struggled to get out of the water, before collapsing heavily. The trio rushed to meet him, Sebastian hastily removing his coat to drape it around the trembling boy. Lying on the frozen pebbles, poor Amit was soaked to the skin. His body was shaking so hard that Ominis could even hear his teeth chattering.

- "Sebastian, go get help, quick!" exclaimed Anne as she hurriedly rummaged in the contents of her bag. She pulled out two vials, which she immediately presented to Amit.

- "Drink, Amit. It's Wiggenwield potion, it'll help you feel better."

Amit was shaking so much that they had to hold the vial to his lips. Ominis couldn't see, but they were bearing a terrible purplish color. Amit took a few sips with difficulty. He wanted to say something, but was so weak he just whined pitifully. Ominis and Anne took each one of the boy’s arms and started to carry him, but the boy grew heavier with every step.

- "Hang in there, Amit!" encouraged Ominis as he could sense the other body struggling against him. Anne's potion seemed to be working enough to keep him on his feet, just in time for Sebastian to return with Mr Moon, the school caretaker, on his heels.

The journey to the sickbay was a real obstacle course. The word of the boy's reappearance had quickly spread over the castle and drawn a crowd of curious onlookers into the corridors. "Make way, make way!" yelled Mr Moon, as he supported the boy on his shoulders. 

When they finally reached their destination, Amit was laid out in the first bed available. Mrs. Blainey, the school head nurse, barely had time to remove his coat and cover him with a comforter before Mrs. Weasley's rushed in the room.

- "There you are!" she exclaimed worryingly, the irregular sound of her heels echoing off the high walls of the infirmary. "I came as soon as I was informed. How is he?"

- "It's still too early to tell, Madam. Give me a few moments to examine him," Mrs. Blainey replied. 

Mrs. Weasley then inspected the rest of the group and noticed the presence of the three young Slytherins at their comrade's side. "What are you children doing here?"

- "They're the ones who found him," Mr. Moon replied. "By the lake."

- "The lake? I see. Thank you, Gladwin. Could you please see to restore calm to the corridors, and inform the rest of the teachers still in the field of their student return?"

- "Of course," the man replied before taking his leave.

Mrs. Weasley then turn to the children and gave them her full attention. She listened attentively as they gave her what had happened. How Amit had hoisted himself out of the water, and how he seemed to have appeared out of nowhere, the trio having passed the spot of his discovery only minutes before. Mrs. Weasley said nothing throughout their explanation, a grave look on her face.

- "Mrs. Wealsey..." suddenly interrupted Mrs. Blainey. I think you should see this." The head nurse stepped aside to show Amit's arm, lifting it delicately by the wrist. At the surprised breaths that rose around him, Ominis knew something was wrong.

- "What is this, Norren?" asked Mrs. Weasley in a breath.

- "I don't know. Only his right arm seems to be affected by these marks."

Ominis frowned. Marks? As if reading his mind, Sebastian then discreetly described what he was seeing: Amit's entire right forearm was covered with strange, lightning-like marks. Seeing the confusion still present on his blind friend's face, he then proceeded to reproduce the shape of the marks directly on Ominis' forearm, tracing their form with his finger.

- "The Wiggenweld potion..." started Mrs. Weasley.

- "...had been ineffective. continued Mrs Blainey. I'm afraid that a wound, if I can call it that way, is like any other… He's also suffering from severe hypothermia and malnutrition."

Mrs. Blainey then returned to her auscultation, waving her wand head to toes above her patient's with great attention. Amit stirred weakly and seemed to want to speak, but nothing that came out of his mouth was comprehensible. 

- "Rest now, Amit. Everything's fine, you're in good hands," the nurse replied. She pulled the comforter a little tighter over the boy and murmured what Ominis guessed were healing incantations.

For a moment, nobody said anything. Ominis was feeling very nervous just as everyone else around him, their breaths as baiting as his. After several seconds of watching the scene, Mrs. Weasley straightened up and turned to the trio.

- "The whole school owes you a debt of gratitude," she told them gratefully. "I congratulate you on your reaction. If you hadn't given him the potion, I can't imagine what might have happened. I am very glad you found him in time.

- “The honor is mostly for Anne," said Ominis hastily. "She's the one who had the presence of mind to give the potion and ask for help."

Anne bowed her head, fidgeting on her feet.

- "As a reward for your action, I'm giving you each 50 points for Slytherin," Mrs. Weasley added with a smile. The twins looked at each other, amazed. In the yearly ranking of the most deserving house of Hogwarts, Slytherin had just made a great leap toward the House Cup thanks to them.

- “There’s no need to worry now," Mrs. Weasley reassured them. Your friend is now safe, and it's now up to the teachers to get to the bottom of what happened to him."

- "That will be complicated, Madam." interjected Mrs. Blainey again. "I believe Amit had been… obliviated."

- "What?!" roared Mrs. Weasley, sitting up suddenly. Ominis swore Anne’s breath just stopped in her throat. “Are you certain?”

- "I can't confirm it. But his apathetic state is proof enough to me. It's very characteristic of this type of spell, and I cannot think of another reason from what I assessed. If my guess is indeed verified, the spell is very recent."

Mrs. Weasley said nothing. Either she was deep in thought, or simply flabbergasted.

- "And I'm afraid that's not the worst news," continued the nurse. Where is that young man's wand?"

At this question, Sebastian went to rummage through the boy's still-dripping coat, in which, luckily, the wand was still tucked in. Mrs. Blainey took it and put it in the boy's inert right hand, the one showing the strange markings.

- " Magicosentio " she then casted over the boy, her wand raised toward the hand.

Silence. 

- " Magicosentio " she repeated.

And again. 

And again.

Then, she sighed.

Mrs. Blainey straightened up, gently removed the wand from between the boy's fingers and placed it on a small table at the head of the bed.

- "The wand hand is where magic is most abundant in everyone’s body," she said in a despondent voice. "I'm afraid this poor boy... can no longer do magic."

 

 

Notes:

Amit Thakkar - 1885

Amit is a First Year student at Hogwarts, sorted in Ravenclaw. He's know for his unconditional love of stars, his eyes always turned toward the starry skies. Obsviously, astrology class is his favourite part of Hogwarts curriculum and he didn't took long before being praised by Mrs Shah, the astrology teacher. Stars aren't the only subject that has his interest however, as he also found himself interested in others languages like Gobbledegook, spoken by goblins. He's a very curious boy, who will happily help anyone in need.

Chapter 12: The missing friend

Notes:

Also available in French.

Hello there,
The next installment is finally online, although later than I first anticipated.
As always, feedback is greatly appreciated! Without further ado, enjoy the read :D

 

 

 CHAPTER 12 - The missing friend

 

- ‘Cheer up, Anne! Amit's back!’ exclaimed Sebastian, his hand shaking his sister's shoulder.

It was the evening. Ominis, Anne and Sebastian were in the Slytherin common room, seated in armchairs that have been arranged around the fireplaces, with huge books opened in their laps. They were enjoying a well-deserved rest, their worry settling down now that Amit's had returned. Still, many questions remained unanswered, questions Sebastian and Ominis had been asking each other on their way back from the Medical bay. But strangely, Anne hadn’t joined them. She had stayed quiet. Not the kind of silence that comes when one’s plunged into their thoughts. No, it was a silence of the gloomy sort. And no matter how hard Sebastian had tried to lift her mood, all he got out of her had been grumbles and annoyed sighs.

Sitting on the sofa, Ominis was thinking. His mind was straying so much that it was the growing numbness in his legs under his heavy grimoire that reminded him that he was supposed to read. To just relax and enjoy the book. But he didn't go back to it, because something suddenly came to his mind. Now that he was thinking about it, this wasn't the first time Anne had been acting in this way. She had, in fact, reacted badly every time someone had mentioned... the Obliviate spell. He remembered clearly how upset she had been that time when Marvolo had mentioned the spell to taunt him. And how she had lost her temper at the fact that Obliviate was not seen as an unforgivable curse, the same way the torture or the control curses were.

But Ominis knew, by his aunt, why the use of Obliviate was never really debated. For centuries, it had been the key to keep the Wizarding World secret (along with a few other spells, admittedly less contentious ones). Though Obliviate was harmless when casted properly, there tends to be abuse, like for all handy things. And Amit's case seemed to illustrate that perfectly. As to what has gotten into Anne, Sebastian's behaviour in trying to reassure her and get her to move on reinforced Ominis' belief that Anne could relate, in some ways, to the spell. That was quite the worrying assumption. And the subject seemed so sensitive that, even as a close friend, Ominis refrained from prodding into it any further. 

Instead, his thoughts went to the other mystery of the moment. Who would obliviate Amit, a first year student? Why? It takes no genius to guess that whoever casted the spell wanted the boy to forget something. But what? And what did those marks on his right arm mean? Ominis was racking his brains so hard that he ended up ignoring the flow of students coming and going in the room, as well as the constant chatter around them, their echo amplified by the high walls. It was only when almost total silence had fallen around them that he snapped out of his thoughts, as if the noise had been snuffed out in a snap. Only a few scattered voices remained now. It must be getting late. Ominis didn't want to go to bed, his thoughts boiling in his head like potion in a steaming cauldron, but a significant yawn changed his mind. He closed his book, stuffed it into his bag and stood up.

- “If there's one thing to remember about today, Anne,’ he said, hoisting his satchel over his shoulder, ’is that Amit is back and safe, thanks to you.’

Anne didn't reply, but Ominis' wand caught the movement of her head rising towards him. 

- “You really impressed me,’ he went on. Just as I realised how bad his condition was, back on the shore, you were already in action. It was as if you'd prepared yourself for this kind of situation. I could tell the same for you, Sebastian.’

Sebastian looked up and nodded with a smile. Anne, for her part, remained silent, but didn’t dive back behind the worn pages of her grimoire.

- “I had to… ’ she finally mumbled, ’It is what it takes if I plan to become the best magic healer.’

- ‘Would you look at that! Sebastian exclaimed, closing his book loudly. ‘One word from Ominis and suddenly you've got your tongue back?’ 

Anne scratched the back of her neck uncomfortably.

- ‘Magic healer?’ asked Ominis with interest, his hand searching for a chair to sit back in. 

- ‘Yes,’ replied Anne. I only know the basics of magical healing at the moment. One day, I'd like to heal people who have been wounded or even cursed by magic.’

- ‘And now she won't stop talking,’ Sebastian teased her, a certain relief in his voice. “You also want to cure Muggle diseases too, don't you?”

- ‘Yes,’ Anne replied. ‘And why not find a way... (her voice became cautious) to cure disabilities, even.’

Ominis smiled, remembering his own condition. When he had his wand in his hand, he tended to forget that he was utterly blind. On a second note, he wondered briefly how many other students at Hogwarts already knew what they wanted to do when they graduated. Come to think of it, he had no idea himself. What purpose would he serve in the Wizarding World of tomorrow? What role did he want to play? Ollivanders’s words, the day he had obtained his wand, came back to his mind: With it guiding you, I am sure you will find your place too.

- ‘If only I had understood Amit's condition sooner, maybe I could have done something,’ sighed Anne.

- ‘Don't be so hard on yourself, Anne,’ sighed her brother. Should I really remind you that we've only just started at Hogwarts? I know you’re eager, but for now, you'll have to be patient. And Ominis is right. You can be proud of yourself!’

This time, Anne smiled.

- ‘Yes. I'm sorry for being overdramatic. Thank you, Sebastian. Both of you. We have to move forward. Finding answers, that's what we should strive for!’

- ‘Well said! There's my twin again!’ rejoices Sebastian triumphantly.  Oh, and speaking of finding answers (he turned to Ominis), do you think Noctua would have known what to do?’

Ominis froze at the mention of his aunt.

- 'Yeah...’ said Anne thoughtfully. I know you miss her terribly and I hope I don’t overstep or anything...  but... your aunt knows how to use Obliviate , doesn't she? (Her tone became serious.) Marvolo said so. He said that she was one of the best caster of our time. Given the situation, I can't help thinking that...’

- ‘No,’ interrupted Ominis, more curtly than he really intended. Even if she knew, I can’t reach her. I haven't had a single letter from her in months. I had hoped she'd write to me with the Christmas holidays coming up, but...’

His sentence got stuck in his tightening throat. He sighed, his eyes swelling up as he tried to hold back tears. He felt so helpless. He had nothing to help him understand. No signs, no clues, nothing. His aunt's long silence seemed an even greater mystery than Amit's strange vanishing.

Silence fell around the three Slytherin. Then, Sebastian jumped up from his seat, a broad smile on his lips.

- ‘I’ve just got an idea! We could invite him to spend Christmas at Feldcroft! With us!’

- ‘Co-come again?’ gasped Ominis, his concern for his aunt replaced with bafflement.

- ‘Oh yes, that would be fantastic!’ agreed Anne, getting up. 

- ‘Oh no, I... I don’t think it is my place to…,’ stammered Ominis, his hands raised in front of him.

- ‘No babbling! It's an invitation!, exclaimed Sebastian. We'll take you to the beach, we leave just a few minutes away from the sea shores, and… and you’ll try the specialities of the house! And...’ He suddenly stopped at the sound of his sister slumping back in her armchair. 

- ‘It's not going to happen...’ she sighed annoyingly, her head in her hands.

- ‘Huh? And why is that?’

- ‘Do I really have to remind you, Seb? Our uncle, Solomon... He can’t stand the Gaunt family.’

Oh, right . Ominis just had time to be surprised when an old conversation came back to him. It was during their first homework session in the library. Disregarding Mrs Scribner's scoldings, he remembered the twins telling him about Uncle Solomon, and how he knew about the Gaunts, back when he was working at the Ministry. The man had his eyes on them on matters related to black magic, apparently. In regards to his suspicions, he had told the twins to be wary of the Gaunt, though all that talk hadn't stopped his nephew and niece from becoming friends with one of them. A forbidden friendship that the twins had apparently never mentioned in their regular letters to their guardian.

- ‘I don't see any problem here, shrugged Sebastian. ‘We won’t mention his name, end of story.’

- 'True, and that won't be lying either…’, pondered Anne.

- ‘And if he finds out, we’ll show him not all the Gaunt are what he thinks!’, declared Sebastian proudly.

- 'What do you think, Ominis?

Ominis could only stammer out bits of words that sounded more like noises than anything else. In any case, he didn’t really need to say a word, because his head was already nodding on its own.

- 'Perfect!’ said Anne with a little applause. We have to ask our Uncle as soon as possible. The holidays are just a few days away now, and we want him to have all the time he needs to prepare for our arrival. 

- 'Yes! Having people over is not one of his gigs, so we’ll need to get on his emotional cord’, added Sebastian. ‘We could say… that it would be cruel of him to deprive a poor blind boy, and orphan, let’s add that, of his very first Christmas ever, hm? You see where I’m getting at?’

- ‘We could try that indeed. But leave the writing of the letter to me!’, answered Anne, before turning to Ominis. ‘Sorry, Ominis, but we're going to have to overplay a bit if we want this to work,’ she laughed apologetically, seeing the dumbfounded expression on the blind boy's face. 

Ominis didn’t object, because once again, like very often for months, he was thinking about his aunt. It bothered him to just go and enjoy himself with friends while anything could be happening to her, especially during a time he should normally have devoted to her. But he had tried everything . The incessant, unanswered flow of letters with Nyx, or him seeking answers from his brother and sister. All that had come to nothing. At some point, he even had reached for Mrs Weasley, to ask her to write to his aunt herself. But the few times she did, it had been his father who had answered back, saying Noctua was working away. A lie, Ominis had immediately thought. Otherwise, she would have told him so, wouldn’t she? It was not like her to leave him in the dark like that. And obviously, that thought didn’t help in the least, it had worsened his fears. His brother or sister had always liked to keep things from him. But now he felt that even his father, the straight talking man that he was, was hiding something.

He briefly wondered what they had planned for the holidays, as he hadn't received a single message to that effect. Though, he didn't expect or wanted one to begin with. It would have been yet another joyless stay at the Manor.

As far as he could remember, he had never been invited to anyone's house, except his aunt's and Gaunt Manor. So if staying at his friends’ place for several days just needed to disguise reality a little, he was willing to take the risk. And by meeting Solomon, maybe he would learn a few things about his family and business he might not know about yet.

- “Let’s do it!”

 

 

 

 

The Christmas holidays were finally around the corner. It was the eve of departure, and as soon as the last lesson of the day ended, all those who were returning to their families for the break could now properly pack up their things. 

A certain blind boy was among them. Two days after Anne and Sebastian had written to their Uncle, they had been positively surprised to read that the man had agreed without too much of a fuss. He did state a few conditions, however. First, that their friend should have his own change of clothes and toiletry. Secondly, that he, or whoever was willing to, should sleep on the sofa (there were only three beds in the house). And thirdly, that he should not be allergic to food high in iodine.

A walk in the park.

The only part Ominis wasn’t really looking forward to was meeting Solomon in the flesh. The first impression of the man the twins had left in his mind hadn’t been the greatest. Though he felt a bit better lately, the man seemingly not that bothered by his presence.  Or so he thought.

More than a week had passed since Amit's return. Classes had resumed almost immediately after his acceptance in the Medical bay, but not without an increased vigilance, no one having yet solved the mystery of what had happened to the boy. Not that much has been made out since then.

Of course, Amit's amnesia wasn’t helping in the least. But on a good note, they had discovered that his memory loss hadn’t actually been very consequential. Surprising as it was, he had only forgotten about the two days he had been away… wherever that was. Those who had feared the consequences of the spell on the boy's daily life had breathed in relief. However, that was without taking into account his strange lack of magic. To everyone's dismay and disbelief, he couldn’t cast anything anymore. His waving wand would summon nothing but baited silence. The mark on his arm, however, had almost completely faded away.

Obviously, despite the discretion wished by Mrs Weasley, Amit's ordeal and its consequences on him had not remained confidential for very long. All sorts of rumours had flooded the castle and fuelled the most imaginative minds. The trio had been asked loads of questions, as many had noticed them bringing the boy back with Mr Moon on the way to the Medical bay. And when Amit was fully recovered, he too became the centre of attention, to the point that Mrs Weasley had to intervene when some students became too intrusive. But who could really blame them? Who would not want to unravel this mystery? Was it really possible to lose the use of magic? Was it permanent? And what would become of Amit? No one wanted to doubt the boy's place at Hogwarts. Feeling excluded because of his new condition was the last thing the teacher wanted for the boy, so they had decided to prepare an emergency curriculum for him. An initiative that was applauded by everyone. Well, almost. Who else but Phineas to criticise the idea? The man had dared compromise the boy’s presence in a magic school, now that he had lost his ability. Everyone knew how closed-minded and elitist the Headmaster could be, but not to that extent. Mrs Wealsey, of course, did not take kindly to this and the necessary arrangements were put in place. Ominis sometimes wondered if Phineas enjoyed being hated, giving the rod just for everyone to beat him up with. However, as absurd as it was incredible, some students shared his vision. And what a surprise to find Marvolo, Theresia and other pure-bloods among them.

Amit's inability to practise magic aside, the mystery of his absence remained. Had he been captured by poachers and cursed to forget what he had seen? It was not uncommon to find them around Black Lake, as Ominis and Poppy could tell. Were the marks the work of a creature? Or maybe Amit had just lost his way in the Forbidden Forest, a dangerous place shrouded in mystery? There was no shortage of ideas from every corner and some of them were very comical.

What was far less amusing were the false alarms. A few clever clogs had the brilliant idea of spreading false news of disappearances. Having been closely involved in Amit's case, Ominis, Anne and Sebastian had made it their mission to decipher truth from hoax as best they could, with each case that came to their attention. While most of these claims were quickly discredited (some supposed vanishings had just been students in detention!), some had managed to create a stir. 

It had been the case with the young Duncan Hobhouse. 

This shy boy, from the same house as Amit, had been missing for many hours. He had been hiding in one of the old chests, the like of which decorated the castles’ many alleys and corridors. They had found him purely out of luck, almost missing his hiding spot if it had not been for Ominis's wand. It had revealed the chest’s contents without him really intending to, giving the blind boy quite a jump. Who would have thought to look for someone in such a place, even with the revelation spell? And how long did he intend to stay in there? The reason the boy gave them had been quite amusing, ridiculous even. Someone had pretended that puffskeins, creatures of which he had an extreme phobia, had been let loose in the school.

- ‘Those little fur balls? Now, now, Duncan,’ Anne had reassured him. Who told you such rubbish? Nobody goes around the school with that kind of animal.’ At that moment, Ominis couldn't help thinking of Poppy's pouch and whatever other creatures it could contain. 

- 'They're the worst! Have you ever been chased by a whole pack of them? They eat bogies, you know ?’ Duncan had whined back. ‘What a coincidence that I ended up cowering in some box because of a Gaunt, and that it's another Gaunt that pulls me out of it.’

That had taken Ominis’ smile right off his face. Marvolo using the boy’s phobia to start another rumour and almost succeeding at creating panic was quite upsetting (but also unsurprisingly very suited given his brother’s taste for disruption). Some of the teachers had been ready to cancel their lessons to find the scared boy. At the end of the day, more fear than harm. It would become a funny story to tell, but also a clear proof of the worrying rise in paranoia within the school.

Two days had passed since that incident. Anne, Ominis and Sebastian were now heading for the Slytherin common room to prepare for their trip to Feldcroft. While getting down the huge staircase leading to the library annex, someone suddenly shoved them, almost sending them on the floor.

- “Hey, Watch it ! By Merlin, we aren’t in a Muggle railway station here!’, Anne yelled, as she caught herself on her brother’s shoulders. Only to realise who was the culprit. Poppy?

- “Sorry, I… I tripped!’ the young girl apologised hurriedly. The impact had caused her to drop some sort of parcel and its contents were scattered on the floor. It looked like some kind of cylindrical marbles.

- “What's wrong?’ asked Ominis, worried. He recognised immediately the distress in the girl’s voice.

- “It's nothing! I mean… Oh, please help me!’ she replied while picking up the strange little objects from the floor. Everyone came to give her a hand. Ominis recognised by the texture that there were food pellets. ‘Maybe… Maybe you’ve seen her! Cressida? I don't know where she is!’

The trio (more specifically the twins) could only look at each other with the same alarmed feeling. They trusted Poppy well enough to know that she wouldn't joke about this sort of thing, and a shiver of apprehension ran down their spines.

- “No... No, we haven't seen her,’ Anne replied. ‘When was the last time you saw her?’

Poppy burst into tears. They got out of the way and led her to a sort of bench built into the stone wall. Above them, a large portrait of a lute player was moving, from where came a sumptuous melody. Ominis could only appreciate the paintings of the school by their sounds, a shame when everyone else could see their contents magically coming to life. However, while many only produced voices and noises, the lute painting had become one of his favourites. Judging by the change in the music rhythm, the lute player sounded worried about the crying girl as well.

 

 

 

- “I... I only left her... for a few minutes!’ sobbed Poppy into her hands. ‘How stupid of me! * sob * And now... now, I've been looking for her for more than an hour!”

- “Cressida?”

- “Yes ! We were supposed to * sob *...to... (she hesitated). Oh! Could you keep a secret?

- “Of course!’ assured Sebastian.

- ‘Well, Cressida and I,  * sob * We had planned to go feed the Kelpies.

- “The what ?”

- “Shhh!’ scolded Anne.

- “Kelpies. Water horses. I discovered a herd of them a few weeks ago * sob *, and no one except me and Cressida knows exactly where to find them. I’ve wanted to show them to you Ominis but lately, * sob * they seemed to avoid the open water, which isn't normal. So I've... * sob * wanted to bring some food to try and approach them, in order to find out what was the matter. * sob * But, just as we got outside, I realised I forgot to bring the food my grandmother had sent me. * sob * So I went back to my dormitory and... (she took a handkerchief and cleared her nose loudly)... and I left Cressida all alone!’

The trio waited for her sobs to subside before speaking.

- ‘Were there other students where you left her?’ asked Sebastian. ‘There should have been, because when I train at the Quidditch pitch, I always see lots of people in the courtyard. No matter the weather or the hour.

- ‘Y... yes. She definitely wasn’t alone. * sob * Surely that’s why it didn’t occur to me how foolish it had been to leave her. She had said she'd wait for me and...* sob * there was that funny butterfly on the wall, I just hoped she hadn’t followed it anywhere. She’s so fascinated by insects, we're not friends for nothing... * sob * I myself would have been intrigued by a moth that big in broad daylight... But that's not the point!’ (she blew her nose even harder.) ‘And when I got back, she was gone! I called for her around the whole courtyard, I went to ask for her in the Gryffindor common room, and I was on my way to the library when I stumbled upon you. There. You know the whole story...’

And she started sobbing again. The three Slytherin remained silent for a moment, each of them making up their own minds about what had happened. Ominis knew Poppy quite well now, and it saddened him to see the girl, usually so reckless and brave, being tormented in this way. 

- ‘Surely it's nothing. With all these stupid rumours, it's easy to imagine the worst,’ Sebastian tried to reassure her, but he didn't really seem convinced by his own words.

- ‘Maybe she's waiting for you where the Kelpies are?’ asked Ominis. 

- ‘I don't think so... It's not like her to leave without me... Especially when it comes to creatures.’

- ‘Well, it's worth checking,’ said Anne, straightening up. The three of us will go with you, after informing Mrs Weasley about Cressida. We were planning on getting ready for the holidays, but this comes first.’ 

- ‘Really? I wouldn't want to cause you any trouble.’

- ‘We're the ones who found Amit, and solved loads of other cases since then! We're not going to sit back and do nothing.’ answered Sebastian.

- ‘And this way, you won’t need to worry about the Kelpies,’ Ominis told her with a smile, not knowing that he couldn't have been more wrong.

After telling Mrs Weasley of Cressida’s disappearances, Ominis and the twins found themselves walking along the shores of the lake once more, with Poppy leading the way. Why, of all the seasons they had been outdoors the most, it had to be winter?

Ahead of them, Poppy's pace was frantic, her feet sinking into the snow with haste. She had been quite vocal the last time Ominis had walked along the banks with her. Now, her silence made him uneasy. He felt obliged to spark a conversation. To try and ease her mind off a bit. She wasn't very chatty at first, but soon got into the mood, finding a little joy in speaking about these creatures she looked after in secret. 

- ‘How many times have you visited the Kelpies?’

- ‘Since they seem to stay away from the open waters, at least every two days lately,’ replied Poppy, though her tone was rougher than usual. 

- “I imagine they're fearful, if you're relying on pellets to win their trust,’ asked Anne.

- ‘Yes, but they're intelligent enough to deduce whether a human wants them harm or not.’

- 'So these are water horses. Does that mean you can ride these creatures?’ asked Sebastian.

- ‘Yes. It requires a great deal of trust between man and beast, but it's possible. I did it once in my life, with my grandmother. It is one of my fondest memories. She taught me a spell to breathe underwater. It's called the Bubblehead spell. I'll teach you... someday.’

And so, for almost half an hour, they followed Poppy around, fueling the conversation to lift the mood. They asked about her grandmother in particular, from whom the young girl inherited her protective instincts towards creatures. Obviously, any mention of Cressida was carefully avoided, although she remained in everyone’s mind.

As they rounded a large trunk, Poppy's step became lighter and she asked them to be quiet. 

- ‘This is it’.

She ducked under some branches and arrived onto a small beach. Ominis heard her feet sink into the gravel and freeze. Then a gasp, which he could only attribute to astonishment. Anne and Sebastian had a similar reaction, and it wasn't long before Ominis realised what the edge of the forest had revealed.

On the shore, a strange form lay motionless, its body half-submerged. The only part Ominis could identify was its head, its snout pointed resignedly toward the ground. 

- ‘Oh no!’

Poppy started to run, when several frightened snorts sounded. She froze almost immediately at the sight of the rest of the herd in the shallow water nearby. Ominis could make out several shapes pacing frantically as they arrived. 

- 'Don't come any closer,’ said Poppy, who seemed to have regained her composure. ‘I'll go and see what's going on.’

- ‘Be safe, Poppy!’ said Anne.

The girl did not reply and set off toward the stranded creature. The trio stayed where they were, their breath baited. Ominis could see Poppy approach the creature carefully, almost walking on four. Then, her arm extended, no doubts handing some granules to the motionless Kelpie. The latter hesitated. But eventually, it accepted the offer, encouraging the young girl to come even closer. In the distance, the rest of the herd remained as attentive as the three Slytherin. Eventually, after several minutes, Poppy stood up and walked back towards her friends.

- ‘How serious it is?’ asked Ominis.

- ‘I think it'll be alright,’ replied the young girl with a sigh. ‘The Kelpie is hurt. It looks like something in the lake bit her. I could clearly see the teeth marks on a large part of its tail. The bleeding seems to have stopped, and the food, to have done it some good.  

- ‘What could have done that?’ gasped Anne. “Apart from the giant squid, I don't really know what type of creature lurks beneath the lake.”

- ‘I might know who caused this, and I'm not happy about it,’ replied Poppy. She turned to Ominis, and added in a pained tone: 

- I'm not sure, as the Kelpie is not part of its prey, but, as far as I know, the only creature in the lake that could leave those teeth marks... is a Scydbis.

 

 

Notes:

Cressida Blume - 1885

Cressida is Poppy's best friend. They met onboard the Hogwarts Express and had been hanging out together since them. They do not share the same house however, as Cressida has been sorted in Griffindor. While Poppy's satchel could contain any sort of funny creatures that could fit in it, Cressida, on the other hand, always travels with carefully selected books. She loves to read, almost as much as Sebastian. She also writes a lot, especcially in a special notebook she carries at all time. Inside, she carefully tell everything that happens to her, like some sort of a diary. Only Poppy had the chance to peak inside it, and that's how she had discovered Cressida's interest for insects of all sorts, as many sketches decorated the pages, along with some dried leaves and flowers.

Chapter 13: The message

Notes:

Also available in French.

I AM BAAACK!
Phew... this. took. forever!
I am very soorry about that! It should be better now, I was able to take care of several side works, thus the delay, so time should be less scarce now!
I do realise posting so far apart in time isn't very helping to stay invested in the story (you may need to read the previous chapter again to get back into it).
Anyway, if you're still on the ride, thanks a lot and please, enjoy this new chapter :)

 

 

 CHAPTER 13 - The message

 

It was the first day of the holidays. Onboard the carriage, Ominis felt every bump of the road under the wheels. Everything around him rattled and creaked, except during the few paved portions, generally every time they were crossing a village. With each jolt, he could hear the luggage bouncing off the roof above him, as well as he could sense the cramped passengers sway rhythmically around him. Anne and Sebastian were on his side, one immersed in a book and the other staring out one of the windows. There was almost no talking, surely everybody was very tired after a good day of work (or just considerate towards their neighbours).

When Solomon had agreed to let him stay at Feldcroft for the holidays, Ominis naturally expected the three of them to take the Hogwarts Express back to London. Or perhaps to use the Floo network, which was quicker and more practical. But it had been none of those options. The twins had indeed mentioned a third way to get there, and it was by carriage. Ominis’ interest had apparently flashed on his face at that mention, immediately settling the matter for the twins. Furthermore, it would show Ominis another part of their lives, for Feldcroft was actually a village in the region, accessible after a few hours' drive.

But, on the first day of school, why had Anne and Sebastian been on the Hogwarts Express, then? Despite their village being only a few hours away by carriage? The twins had explained that their uncle was actually commuting to London quite often, to go to the Ministry of Magic. Despite being retired from his Auror career, during which he had tracked down and fought many dangerous wizards, he still insisted on helping out old colleagues when he felt like it (whether they accepted his help or not). An ongoing case had prompted him to offer his help a few months ago. So on September 1st, he decided to hit two birds with one stone. He took the Floo network to London along with his nephew and niece, as the capital was also the best place to do all the shopping necessary for the school. And once they got everything, he dropped them off at St Pancras Station, after the twins had insisted on taking the Hogwarts Express. Who in their right mind would ride in some ordinary carriage on their first day of school, when they had the chance to board the famous school train? From this point, Ominis knew the rest of the story.

A quite large pothole rattled the whole carriage, pulling him from his memories. It had been some time since they departed for Feldcroft. They had stopped several times along the way, as the area around Hogwarts was full of little hamlets and villages. There was also a fair share of old buildings and castle ruins, almost as numerous as inhabited villages. Anne would discreetly tell him every time they went by one. Some of these remnants of the past were even said to be immersed in the depths of Black Lake.

One or three hours may have flown by, Ominis didn't know. He had no way to tell for how long they had been on the road. But he was fine with that. It wasn’t like he had nothing to occupy his mind.

Cressida’s whereabouts worried him enormously. She seemed to have vanished, just like Amit did only two weeks ago. Obviously, he couldn’t ignore feeling a sense of déjà vu. They had immediately reported the girl's disappearance the day prior, but since then, no news at all. He hoped with all his heart that she would reappear the same way Amit did (preferably, in a shorter timespan). But would she suffer the same affliction as him? Ominis had also the poor girl’s family in mind, and he really hoped she would turn up alright and save her relatives from a very bitter and sad Christmas.

Then, there was the Scybdis attack. Ominis never thought he'd hear from her again. Was she the same creature as last time ? Poppy seemed convinced of it. She had said before how very unlikely it was to find such a creature here. The mere presence of one defied all her knowledge about them. So to have two of them seemed even more unexpected. And as if it hadn't been strange enough, the attack on the Kelpies was also very unusual, as these watery horses had never been part of its food chain. However, Ominis was most troubled by the message the creature had given him weeks ago, as it had resurfaced: Watch - out - friends . With Cressida’s disappearance, those words were sounding even more like a bad omen. Did the Scybdis know what was going on? Why would she attack the Kelpies? Such were questions that would need to wait until the end of the holidays to be answered. Their investigation had been cut short with Poppy leaving early in the morning to go see her grandmother. 

Which brought Ominis to his third preoccupation of the moment: his meeting with Uncle Solomon. What if the man ended up discovering that he was a Gaunt? How badly would he react? Would the twins’s plan work as intended? 

The carriage stopped again. New passengers were getting on and off, causing the vehicle to tilt, to Ominis’s simple enjoyment. Only half the passengers were left now. He stretched his legs now that there was more space.

Ominis had never travelled on a public carriage before. Or rather, a collective one. Before today, the only passenger he ever travelled with had been his aunt, usually to go to Little Hangleton. His father had never wanted to add his domain to the Floo network, so Noctua and he would travel by carriage everytime they were (or rather, she was) needed there. The rest of the time, she would use chimneys to take him somewhere. But these occasions were very rare. Before Hogwarts, Ominis couldn’t really remember using them. His childhood had been quite uneventful, despite Noctua’s efforts to be there for him. Her work had kept her so busy she barely spent time in her own house. “I am sorry,” she would say to him. “Know that all I am doing, I do it for you.”

- ‘We're nearly there,’ Sebastian said suddenly. ‘I can see Rookwood Castle in the moonlight’.

- ‘Rookwood Castle?’ asked Ominis as he was pulled out of his thoughts. 

- ‘Yes, it overlooks Feldcroft,’ replied Anne. But it's not as abandoned as people think. It's best not to wander there on your own.’

Another building to add to the region's rich history, Ominis thought. Then, Sebastian added:

- ‘It's sometimes taken over by thugs. But our uncle is often there to dislodge them. I don't like it when he orders people around, and God how strict he can be, but I have to admit it's quite useful here.’

About ten minutes later, the carriage rattled one last time before coming to a complete stop, just as the coach announced: ‘Feldcroft, end of the line!’

Ominis stood up and got out of the vehicle, thanking the coach for their service. This journey had been proof that, unlike many people, he clearly prefered riding on the ground rather than in the air, no matter how much it rocked and jolted. 

 

He could properly sense his surroundings now that he was out in the open. Apart from the trampling of the last passengers on the muddy ground, and the sliding of luggage being unloaded, the place was very quiet. There must have been snow everywhere, judging by the cold and the strange quietness that comes with it. The only sensory evidence that he was in a village was the smell of the chimneys in the air. It brought a fine aroma with it. His stomach suddenly rumbled. Suppertime it was. 

- ‘Here, Ominis,’ said Sebastien as he held out his suitcase to him. It's over there. Remember, you’re Mister Brightview from now on.’

Ominis nodded, took the handle and began to follow in the footsteps of his two friends, wand drawn in front of him. They walked along a small stone wall that was partially collapsed on itself, and only about fifty metres later did they arrive at the doorstep of the Sallows' house. Perhaps the village wasn't so big as he had first thought.

Compared to Gaunt Manor, the house his wand was portraying was really tiny. It reminded him of Mrs Howins’ small cottage just outside Hogwarts, where their teacher of care for magical creatures resided. The difference with this house was that there were three of them living inside. The range of his wand was wide enough to encompass a large part of the house, inside which he noted a large room on the ground floor and two rooms upstairs. He couldn't dwell on the details any longer, however, as an imposing shape came into view, obscuring everything. Uncle Solomon rose to his full height, and what a tall man he was. His head seemed about to touch the thatched porch above him.

- 'Uncle Solomon, this is our friend Ominis Brightview!’ said Anne, smiling.

Ominis instinctively held out his open hand, as many people had done on occasion with him, without suspecting that their gesture would go unnoticed. Here, he preferred to make the first move, if it meant making a good impression. 

- 'Ominis,’ said the uncle. His voice was so deep and powerful, it felt like rumbly thunder on Ominis’s eardrums. Usually, hearing someone speak helped him greatly to get a handle on the person’s personality, but he found it very difficult here. Which did nothing to put him at ease. There was... something strange about the way the man had pronounced his name. He gulped nervously. After a pause, the man continued with the same gruffy voice:

- 'Welcome to the Sallows.'

Solomon grasped the offered hand but let off of it almost immediately. 

Not wanting to freeze on the spot, the little party entered the welcoming warmth of the house. A strong smell of stew, similar to what Hogwarts could offer, flooded their nostrils. As he had previously deduced, the ground floor consisted of a large main room with a crackling fire burning at the other end. An old sofa had been placed in front of the crate, and a round table with three chairs occupied the centre of the room. A few shelves and a large sideboard adorned the surrounding stone walls. There was an opening into what appeared to be a small kitchen and a storeroom. But if there were any decorations, Ominis failed to notice them. At this time of year, there was no shortage of decorated trees and tinsel at Hogwarts.

- ‘The bedrooms are upstairs,’ Solomon said grumpily. It seemed to be his natural voice. Rather suited for the strict person Sebastian had described him to be.

- ‘Put your things down, change your clothes, rinse your face and then we can have dinner.’

The three friends obeyed immediately, and Ominis was invited to climb the stairs.

- ‘See ? Barely there and already being ordered around,’ whispered Sebastian with an annoyed sigh.

Anne took the lead and began to climb the steps two by two.

- ‘It's not the greatest luxury, but it's better than nothing!’ she said, turning around.

Ominis smiled. It was indeed very different from what he had been used to. However, the wooden steps creaking under his feet, the protubing stones of the walls and the smell of the oil lamps reminded him of his aunt's cottage at Brightview. It had only been a few minutes, but he already felt much more at home here than he had ever been at Gaunt Manor. That place always runs a chill down his back. Its walls would have been built directly into ice that it wouldn’t feel any different.

- 'That’s where you'll be sleeping,’ said Sebastian as they entered the first of the two upstairs rooms. It was small, so small that the bunk bed that occupied it took up almost half the space, and not just on the floor. 

- 'You can take the one at the bottom. I'll be sleeping on the sofa, continued Sebastian, as he placed his bag on some sort of small desk, soon joined by Anne.

- 'Thank you, but I’ll pass on that one,’ objected Ominis. I'm not going to take your bed in your own house. I'll be the one on the sofa.

- 'Oh no, you won’t! You’re still our guest,’ protested Anne.

- 'Well, the guest insists ,’ replied Ominis, blowing through his nose and crossing his arms decisively. After riding in an overcrowded carriage for the first time, I feel quite ready to sleep in something other than a bed.

Sebastian chuckled.

- 'Fine! But don't complain if your back hurts. Or we'll swap places right away, understood?

The three of them laughed heartily and set about emptying their bags. Sebastian opened a curtain covering one of the walls, behind which was a recess. Wooden planks were nested horizontally in it, to form some sort of a makeshift shelf. Sebastian put his clothes on the left side and Anne on the right. Ominis had never seen a house organised like this, with its cramped corridors and its not-so-flat floor. He found it more amusing than disconcerting.

After a few minutes, Sebastian looked around frantically with a slight panic in his voice.

- "By Merlin, Anne, have you seen my crest?

- "What ? You lost it, again ?" groaned Anne.

- "It’s not lost! I just can’t remember where it is!"

- "What is it?’ asked Ominis, raising one eyebrow."

- "Some sort of brooch. A little metal badge."

Ominis heard Sebastian rummage through his belongings (despite having sorted them just minutes ago). When Anne started to search the room as well, Ominis took a deep breath and concentrated on every detail his wand was bringing back to him that might match with the item description. Then, a few seconds later, he raised his arm without even turning around, and pointed straight in the direction of the shelf into the wall: 

- "There's something in this clothes pile, he declared. Have you checked all the pockets?"

Sebastian immediately inspected the designated spot and found that his precious crest was indeed tucked in one of his trousers pockets. 

- "Woah, Ominis! Thank you! And you pulled that off without even using Revelio ? Awesome! Boy, I can’t wait to learn that spell."

- "Can’t wait either...", his sister sighed sarcastically. "But before getting there, how about you just put it in just one place for a change? That'll save you that kind of fright."

- "You seem very attached to this item," said Ominis.

- "Oh yes, it's from our parents. We each were given our own."

Anne invited him to hold out his hand, into which Sebastian placed the small object. Ominis inspected it carefully with his fingers, then with his wand. The edges were embossed, and something was engraved on it. Some kind of… hairy snake? 

- "It's a snake which body turns into a quill pen. Our parents were both from Slytherin, and they spent their whole days writing. It's some sort of an emblem," explained Anne.

- "That's a lovely gift," said Ominis with a smile. He gave it back to Sebastian, who put it away in what he and Anne hoped was a safe place.

- "I also have something that I’ve cherished for a very long time."

Ominis returned to his suitcase and pulled out his old book on muggles, which his aunt's elves and Putsy had read to him over and over again. But as soon as he presented the book to his friends, they both exclaimed in unison:  

- "Merlin’s beard!"

- "By Slytherin!"

Ominis tensed in surprise, for they both had leapt towards him and were almost crushing their noses against the book.

- “Do… Do you know it?

- “You bet I do! ‘ Muggle daily life '? Our mother wrote it! In 1879!’ said Sebastian proudly.

- “What? Really?”

- “Do you mind if I look?”

Ominis handed the book to his friend, who began to inspect it from all sides. 

- "It's the very first edition! I never thought I'd see one again,’ Anne added over her brother's shoulder. But what's happened to it? I can see some water damage here and there. No wonder you didn’t know who wrote it, I can hardly make out her name.

- "I... I don’t know how that happened, replied Ominis. I've always had it in this state, but I like it this way. It standed out from any other book under my fingers, before I had my wand. 

A few seconds passed as Sebastien handled the book, turning it around, opening it and turning its pages. The twins seemed entranced by the book’s content, as though the pages were made up of tender memories. But after the sounds of smiles and wistful sighs, came a strange silence.

- “Anne, check this out…” muttered Sebastian. Ominis frowned at the apprehensive tone.

He wasn't sure whether it was his imagination or not, but the words that followed had the effect of an electric shock, as though Sebastian had pronounced an incantation, rekindling something dormant for years.

- "Dear Ominis, may any world of words… unveil to these azure eyes. - Andromeda.”

- "...Come again?" blinked Ominis.

- "There's a message, at the end of the book."

Sebastian returned the book to its owner, who pointed his wand at the designated spot. Liber lectio . Suddenly, a woman's voice spoke in Ominis’s head, repeating the same words Sebastian had just read. Since he used his wand to read, he had become accustomed to hearing the author's voices when it came to handwritten texts. If he borrowed Merlin's notebooks from the library, he could listen to the old wizard read to him in person. But that woman's voice... it stirred something inside him. Something distant. Secluded. Banished. 

- “Andromeda…” he said softly. His voice wavered, and he couldn't understand why."

- "Andromeda is our mother," Anne said with a smile. She loved leaving messages at the end of her books without telling people she would give them to. Like a hidden autograph, so to speak.

Ominis wondered why he was discovering the existence of this message so late. Was it because it was hidden on the very last page? Did the elves only focused on printed pages, and never dwelled on supposedly empty parts of the books, such as the end paper?

- "But... why these words? ‘ unveil to these azure eyes ’? he asked. 

The twins looked at each other. Ominis lowered the book and continued:

- "It doesn't make sense. I'm the last person someone would leave such a message to."

- "Maybe it's just a figure of speech, or a riddle?" suggested Anne, shrugging her shoulders.  

- "It's possible, muttered her brother. But I admit the choice of words is a bit out of place. Maybe she didn't realise that you were blind and thought that your eyes were just strange, I mean, different!"

- "It's true that the first time we saw you, on the Hogwarts Express, we didn't realise you couldn't see," added Anne sheepishly. If it wasn’t for Imelda, of course. Truth is, I've never met a blind person before. I guess we’re fooled by how independent you were. 

Ominis nodded slowly.

- "Hey! I’ve just realized something!" exclaimed Sebastian. If this is the 1879 edition, does that mean you met our mother 6 years ago? It's incredible!

Ominis wanted to reply, but nothing came from his mouth. In fact, he had no idea what Sebastian was talking about. About this woman he'd apparently met, from whom he got this book, one of his most favourite, nonetheless. Suddenly, he wasn't sure why it was so important to him. Was it because it dealt with Muggles, people his family despised like vermine, or was it something else entirely? And this message... ‘May any world of words unveil to these azure eyes’. It went round and round and round in his mind, as if it wasn’t already packed with all sorts of questions from recent events. Although the twins explanation made sense, deep down, he found himself unable to believe their theory.

Something was not right.

Suddenly, the smell of mud flooded his nostrils. His ears picked up the sound of a crowd, and flapping canvas in the wind. Then, bits of voices, muffled and wordless. Two exactly. He immediately recognised his aunt's voice, and then, the one he had just heard: Andromeda’s. Her voice was warm, flowing almost like a melody. He felt lulled by it, to the point he started swaying on his feet. Just before he felt himself toppling forward, two hands grabbed him by the shoulders.

- "Ominis! Ominis, are you all right?" 

He shook his head. The sound. The smell. Everything vanished. Anne and Sebastian were in front of him, one of their hands holding him in place. 

- "I... I think so,’ he answered."

The twins invited him to sit on the lower bed.

- "You've gone pale all of a sudden," Anne said worriedly.

Ominis blinked. What did he just… What was it? It was gone as quickly as it had come. His imagination, perhaps?

- "I think... I-I need a moment."

- "Are you sure?"

He nodded. At the same time, an impatient call from Solomon rang out from the ground floor.

- "Go ahead," he said to his friends. I'll... I'll join you. 

Seeing the concern on their friend's pale face, the twins looked at each other, as if exchanging thoughts. Ominis could feel their hands hesitate before detaching from his slumped shoulders.

- "If you say so, but... don't take too long. Our uncle isn’t the patient kind," said Anne in a small voice.

She only got another nod in return. The twins left the room, leaving their friend alone, the book hanging in his loose hands. Ominis was so deep in thoughts that he didn't notice the twins lingering behind the door.

 

 

 

 

- "So, you like Muggles, huh?"

Of all the questions Solomon had asked him since they started eating dinner, it was strangely the simplest. (Had it been asked within other walls, it would not have had the same effect). Solomon was still only a stranger to Ominis, but he couldn't help thinking the man sounded a bit like his father, in some ways. Except the person in front of him was supposed to be the total opposite. Because Solomon hated the Gaunt, Ominis had to play a role the twins had come up with.

Thus, in the presence of Solomon, he had to answer to the name of Ominis Brightview, a boy with no family who was raised in an orphanage. Despite rehearsing this fake story in his head over and over, he still didn’t feel up to the task. He just hated lying. But the hospitality of the owner was worth the struggle. Will their strategy last until the end of the week, or fall apart before the end of tonight’s diner? Ominis didn't know. Of course, Solomon wasn't as cruel as to throw a 12-year-old child out of his house, but knowing how bad tempered he was, the twins didn’t want to leave anything to chance, and had come up with this silly plan, hoping it would guarantee them an enjoyable holiday.

Only his first name threatened to sabotage everything, though. Unfortunately, the twins had already mentioned it in a previous letter with their uncle, at the same time they had mentioned his blindness, making these two pieces of information impossible to dissociate. What would be the chances of Hogwarts having two people with that name, both blind on that matter? Only the Gaunts' name had never been divulged. It would have cost the boy his holiday in Fledcroft for sure. That was why Solomon bringing up Muggles was the perfect chance to consolidate Ominis’s position. No member of his family, except his aunt, would even consider praising these “filthy people”, as they would sometimes call them. 

- "If I like Muggles? Oh yes I do,’ Ominis replied shyly. They used to read to us every so often... at... at the orphanage. And I loved it when it talked about Muggles. My favourite Muggle invention is the telegram.

Beside him, Anne and Sebastian nodded vigorously.

- "Hmm," said Solomon.

Ominis noticed that the man still hadn't touched his plate, despite how excellent the stew was. Solomon was certainly cold as ice, but he knew a thing or two about cooking. 

- "We could read you some of our books about Muggles, if you like!’ Anne cheerfully suggested. Ominis smiled and nodded gently. Unfortunately, he didn’t enjoy the moment as he wished he would. First, he was too focused on keeping his fake identity afloat, not wanting to drop any clue inadvertently. And secondly, he couldn’t stop thinking about how, and why, he had almost fainted earlier in the bedroom. 

- "Great idea! We've got five days to spend together, after all. Let’s make each one count!’ added Sebastian with his mouth half-full. He swallowed then added : “Ominis, you won’t get bored, trust me on that! Tomorrow morning, we'll have a nice walk on the sea shores. Then, in the afternoon, the weather will probably turn sour, as it does every winter. But that’s alright, because we'll be busy preparing for Christmas Eve. The following day, how about we go visit the crypt up in the hills? Or maybe...

- "Enough, Sebastian,’ interrupted Solomon in his baritone voice. You'll be free to do as you please as long as I can have my eyes on you. So no going out of the village or after dark on your own, you hear me ? 

- "What? But…” asked Sebastian, outraged.

- "There's no ‘but’ about it, my boy. I don't want you to disappear, or loose your magic.” 

A surprised silence fell over the table.

- "This is not Hogwarts, you know..." said Sebastian.

- "What difference does that make?" said Solomon sharply. This can happen everywhere. 

- "True...’ said Anne slowly. There was a short pause, during which Sebastian could be heard struggling to retort something, before relenting. Then, Anne asked : “About that… Do you know about the Ministry opening an investigation? There had been no mention of the case, or any measures, in the Daily Prophet. 

- "There won’t likely be one."

- "What? Why not?"

Solomon sighed, looking annoyed.

- "I am not sure. The story had reached the Ministry, I know that. But I haven’t heard of any action in return, which is quite appalling."

- "Well, the same can be said about our headmaster,’ Sebastian mumbled, his head dropped so low above his plate his nose almost touched his food.

- "Indeed, replied Solomon. He’s clearly not worried. To him, the consequences are too minor to justify a full investigation. At least, that's what I picked up at the Ministry.

- "This man really is a joke!" said Sebastian, offended .

-"I don't believe it!" said Anne indignantly.

Solomon gave a guttural nod of approval.

Ominis just let out an exasperated sigh, as he did every time he heard the words ‘Phineas’, ‘Black’ or ‘headmaster’ out of someone’s mouth. A whole day's memories erased, an arm covered in strange marks, and an unexplained loss of magic. There was nothing minor about all this. Fighting back his shyness, Ominis dared to ask:

- "Have you heard of other vanishings of this kind, if you say it could happen anywhere? 

At this, Solomon sat back heavily in his chair, which cracked and strained under his weight. He blew loudly through his nostrils while staying silent for a second or two, then spoke again.

- "After Christmas Eve, we'll go to St Mungo to see your mother,’ he announced out of the blue, turning to his nephew and niece. Then, he started eating, his first mouthful clearly putting an end to the previous subject. That sudden change had Ominis blinking incredulously. He went to insist, but thought better as Anne suddenly jumped up from her chair, all cheery: 

- "Really?"

- "Is she finally feeling better?" asked Sebastian at the same time, just as enthusiastically.

- "Hmm,’ confirmed Solomon. Humming his approval seemed to be a habit with him. ‘She hasn't had a relapse for almost four months now."

The sound of both twins inhaling happily brought a smile to Ominis' face. Anne was making little leaps and Sebastian started laughing.

- "And you’ll be going with us, Ominis,’ added Solomon with an authoritative air. Ominis couldn't help but swallow. Solomon made him feel really uncomfortable at times. He didn't know whether to be impatient or apprehensive at the idea of meeting Andromeda. But perhaps she would be able to tell him about the day they supposedly met. And hopefully dispel some of his questions, by explaining why she had decided to give a book to a blind person. Unfortunately, he wasn't sure she would be able to help him. The twins had told him once that the reason she was at St. Mungo's was that she had dementia.

- "T-thank you," he simply replied to Solomon's invitation (or should he say instruction).

The rest of the dinner went smoothly. Solomon didn’t seem to suspect anything about him being a Gaunt. They chatted again about Muggles and how their daily lives devoid of magic was so fascinating. Their mother’s book ending up in his Ominis’s hands was also brought up, but the twins never mentioned the message that had been left inside. Perhaps in regards to their friend's odd behaviour back in the bedroom. Then, came up the subject of Ominis’s his unique wand. He greatly enjoyed talking about it, and for the first time, Solomon had seemed genuinely interested in what he was saying.

When they finished eating, Solomon flicked his wand overhead and the table cleared itself. Ominis once again insisted on sleeping on the sofa, despite Sebastian's attempts to dissuade him. But he was more stubborn than his friend. An hour later, Ominis was wrapped up in the sofa, his face turned towards the fireplace. While his empty eyes couldn’t see the flames, he could feel their warmth lapping at his skin. Finally, the sound of crackling embers lulled him to sleep. 

But the night was rough. And not because of the sofa.

Again, he dreamt of an unknown wand in his hand. Of a bolt of lightning. But this time, he wasn’t woken up by sudden pain, but by the sound of a terrible scream.

 

 

Notes:

Solomon Sallow - 1885

Solomon is Sebastian and Anne's uncle and legal guardian. The three of them are living in Feldcroft since the twin's father, Solomon's brother, died a few years ago. Their mother being unable to take care of them, Solomon is now in charge of his niece and nephew. He can be strict, gruff and cold, and doesn't seemed to be on Sebastian's best side. Former Auror, he still insist on lending a hand at the Ministry for various cases.

Chapter 14: The curse of the Lake

Notes:

Also available in French.

Hello everyone!
First of all, I wish you a happy new year! May 2025 bring you happiness, success and good health!
Another year of hard work on this story, I can't believe how long I've been keeping this up, it's crazy !!! Assuming 2025 might see the end of the story is a bit bold haha 😅 But who knows? Anyway, for the meantime, here is finally the 14th chapter, out of the 21 I've planned!
I feel the need to put a little warning here, about some mention of torture. That chapter might be one of the darkest and saddest of the story. But that's all I'll be saying, it is yours to read now!

*Please note that the St-Mungo crest at the beginning of the chapter is not of my design. You will find the original image HERE.

 

 

 CHAPTER 14 - The Curse of the Lake

 

Ominis will never forget Christmas 1885. This year, there had been no gloomy manor to be stuck in, no siblings to bully him, no oppressive disdain from distant relatives to disturb him, and no never-ending dinner more akin to a business meeting to be endured. Instead, he had been in nice company, had food as good as it was simple, discovered games he never thought he would ever play, and more importantly, had friends to laugh with.

The morning before Christmas Eve, they had gone to the beach, as Sebastian had said. It was just below the village, at the end of a short path down the cliff. There, Ominis had heard the sound of the sea for the first time ever, a majestic symphony with which he thought the lazy lapping of Black Lake waters would never compete. He had contemplated it for a while before a snowball had been thrown at him, initiating a merry fight. Then, the weather had turned bad, as Sebastian had also said it would, prompting them to return to the warmth of the house where they had started to cook for the evening. The Sallow being the Muggle lovers they were, they had attempted at concocting a Muggle-style plum pudding. That afternoon, Ominis had discovered a whole new way of life. He had never done any cooking or chores, at his aunt’s place as well as Hogwarts. But at the Sallows, there were no house elves to do other people's work. This had made him appreciate just how much he could help out, despite how poorly he was usually doing in front of a cauldron.  They sat down to dinner just as fresh snow started to fall, the sound of the snowflakes on the windows merging with the crackling wood of the chimney. The plum pudding had been a success. Their efforts had paid off, thus making the satisfaction of a good dinner all the greater. 

On Christmas morning, Ominis had been the last to woke up from a surprisingly well rested night, far better than the previous one on the sofa. Upon seeing the dark rings under his friend's eyes the previous morning, Sebastian had prompted him to exchange places right away, with no room to negotiate. The sofa hadn’t been the main culprit but Ominis had prefered to keep his nightmare to himself. After getting up and putting on his clothes, he had headed downstairs where his friends were already having breakfast. He felt much more at ease at the Sallow’s now, compared to the first evening. Solomon seemed to have accepted him for who he pretendly was.

Just as he had been about to get breakfast, Anne and Sebastian had presented him with a little box of chocolate frogs. It took a few stunned seconds for Ominis to understand what it was about. A gift. Dumbstruck, he realized he had nothing to give in return. Each Christmas, Noctua would give something to him, but he never had the chance to reciprocate in any way. Thus, as the years went by, the thought of offering back never really occurred to him. Only now did he realize Christmas was a time for giving as well as receiving! Overwhelmed by shame, he'd promised to correct this mishap next time he’d go to Hogsmeade. The twins had taken no offense, merely laughing heartily in return. On their end, they each had received a new quill from their uncle, their current ones having already been worn down to the rachis.

It was noon. After eating the eve’s leftovers, they prepared to leave for St. Mungo. All four of them headed for the village main square, where the communal fireplace was. They went in, grabbed each a good handful of floo powder and threw it at their feet, loudly stating their destination. The next second, they had arrived.

The first thing Ominis noticed was that the place was really crowded. They emerged in a large hall where many people were coming and going from several chimneys on either side of theirs. A sanitised smell invaded his nostrils. Anne took him by the hand and led him through the crowd to a waiting line, one of many expanding from several counters.

Ste Mungo’s atmosphere was disconcerting, to say the least. It sounded a bit like at Hogwarts, the air full of sounds and noises of all kinds, but some were quite... unusual. Two or three people away, Ominis thought he heard someone croaking like a toad, and in the line parallel to theirs, a child's ears were whistling like a pressure cooker. No doubt about it, this was indeed a hospital for magical accidents.

After a good while, during which the twins couldn't hide their enthusiasm, it was finally their turn to be called to the counter.

- “Hello, this is for Mrs Sallow,” Solomon announced simply.

- “Ah, Mr Sallow,” replied the receptionist, who paused before saying: “It has been a while. At least, these faces are familiar.”

Solomon grunted audibly.

- “Here's your pass. Janus Thickey Ward, 4th floor. You know the way.”

Solomon gave another grunt, then took the lead. They left the noisy hall and began to climb the steps.

- “Janus… who?” asked Ominis.

- “ Janus Thickey. That’s the name they gave to the ward where they treat people with permanent spell damage,” Anne replied. 

- “Permanent spell damage ? But, I thought your mother was only…

- “Ill ? Yeah well, it’s a bit more complicated than just dementia, actually… Mum's here because…” She sighed, the rest of her sentence stuck in her throat. Solomon then turned and said, without hesitation:

- “Someone casted the torture spell on her.” 

Ominis let out a startled gasp, and heard himself say: 

- “Cru...Crucio...?”

At this, everyone paused.

- “What?” asked Sebastian.

- “That’s Crucio… isn’t it ?”

- “Is that the incantation?” asked Anne in disbelief.

Solomon said nothing for a little while before speaking again.

- “Yes”, he simply said, his tone grim.

- “I... I've never heard it before…” replied Anne. “How do you know it ?” 

- “Oh…I…” Ominis hesitated. It didn't sound like something a child his age should know. “My aunt warned me a long time ago,” he explained hastily. “She said to get power to good spells, I had to know evil ones too… But this is the first time I’m hearing about someone having suffered from it.”

They started walking again, and Ominis felt relieved as if a weight had been lifted from him.

- “Victims to this spell aren’t as rare as one might think, you know…” Anne said defeatedly. “And it's very easy to tell when someone got hit by it. That’s how healers found out about our mother.”

- “With all the traces it left on her body, hard for them to be mistaken.” grumbled Sebastian.

- “Traces?”

- “Hmm. It won't mean a lot to you, but it looks awful. It reminds me of cracks a rock thrown at glass would make. Except in this case, the imprint is right on the skin. No wound. No scars. Just a mark that never goes away.”

- “I'm... I'm really sorry,” replied Ominis. “I never imagined it was that serious.”

- “Oh don't worry, you couldn't have known,” Sebastian replied, back with his usual mood. “It was years ago, and she's not in any pain now. She's well looked after here.”

- “At least, she's not in a Muggle hospital,” added Anne with her index finger lifted. “One thing that’s regrettable with them is how disreputable some of these places can be. Luckily, Uncle Solomon was able to pull at the right strings so that, exceptionally, mother could be interned here.”

The man only grumbled at them.

After several minutes of walking from corridor to corridor to the sound of their footsteps reverberating off the walls, Solomon finally stopped before a door with an arched window above it. Inside, Ominis's wand revealed two figures on either side of a bed. Solomon knocked on the door and one of the healers opened it.

- “Ah, Mr Sallow, we've been expecting you,” she said. “Mrs Sallow is awake, but don't disturb her too much, she still needs to rest.

- “Very well, thank you.” 

Solomon gave the healers time to leave the room before inviting the children inside. They entered in silence and took places around the bed. Ominis preferred to stand back a little. After all, he was only a guest, not a family member. Solomon leaned over and spoke softly. 

- “Med? It's Solomon. Can you hear me?”

The woman on the bed began to stir gently, letting out a sleepy moan. Then she seemed to understand that she was being spoken to and turned towards the voice.

- “So-Solomon?”

Ominis winced. Her voice sounded nothing like the message in the book his wand had related to him, two days prior. He remembered it being melodious to the ear, nothing like the hoarse, weak and unnaturally high-pitched sound that came out from the woman’s mouth. It was as if her voice had been worn down.

- “How do you feel?”

- “You've grown old... you've got a beard…” she croaked.

- “I've always had it, Med.”

- “Ah...” 

- “I've got a surprise for you. Look who's here.”

Solomon stretched out an arm towards the other side of the bed, where the twins were seated. The woman sat down, gradually turning her attention towards them. 

- “Oh...? My little... My little darlings,” she cooed, opening her arms slowly to embrace the twins.

- “Merry Christmas, Andromeda.”

- “Merry Christmas, Mommy!” said the twins in unison.

Ominis smiled. He could almost feel the happiness radiating in the room, both from Andromeda and the twins, who began to tell her all sorts of things. The last time they had seen her was long before they started at Hogwarts, if Ominis remembered correctly. So obviously, there was quite a lot to talk about. Andromeda didn't seem to understand everything that was said to her, judging by her reactions or silences. Ominis felt a mixture of sadness and happiness tug at his heart. But at least, he could hear the woman smile in every sound she made. 

- “And we've made lots of friends,” he heard Anne say cheerfully. Like Ominis! Ominis, come here!

Ominis was suddenly brought back to reality. He hesitated. So far, the woman didn't seem to have noticed him staying aside, and he was totally fine with that. Nonetheless, he needed to introduce himself, out of politeness, and in the hope that, perhaps, he would have the chance to address a few questions that had been nagging at him lately.

- “Hello,” he said shyly as he approached.

The woman's face, framed by a curtain of dishevelled hair, rose slowly towards him. There was a brief silence. Then, Andromeda’s breath began to increase, each intake turning shorter and shorter. It was as if she had suddenly run out of air. 

- “Ah.... Ah!”

Ominis froze. 

- “Cr.... Cru...! CRUCIO!” she began to scream, her weak body suddenly moving in her bed.

- “Andromeda,” Solomon said cautiously. “Andromeda, everything's fine.”

But the woman didn't seem to hear him. She was turned towards Ominis, her face’s features stretched so tight by horror that the boy's wand was able to trace them in every detail. In her agitation, only her arm was still, pointing straight at him.

 

- “CRUCIO! CRUCIO!” she continued to scream. She was backing away, almost pulled herself up onto the headboard.

What... What is happening?

Ominis was horrified, stepping back from the accusing finger pointing in his direction. Solomon tried to hold the woman in place while the twins became agitated, their stunned faces turning towards their friend in confusion. Suddenly, the door opened and the two previous healers rushed in.

- “What's going on? Let us through.”

Solomon, Anne and Sebastien were pushed away from the hysterical woman who continued to struggle, clearly trying to put as much distance as possible between herself and the boy. A heavy hand clasped on Ominis’s shoulder, pulling him out of his stupor. The next second, Solomon was dragging him and the twins out of the room.

- “No, wait!” shouted Sebastian.

- “Stop it. Don’t agitate her further.” Solomon snapped back. Then, he went back into the room and closed the door behind him. 

The three children were left in the corridor, dumbfounded.  Andromeda's screams could still be heard through the door.

- “What... happened?” asked Anne, in a question Ominis had first thought self intended, before realising that she was facing him. 

- “I... I don't know…” he replied, at a loss. He was trembling.

Anne sank down on a nearby bench and began to sob into her hands. Sebastian slowly sat beside her, putting an arm around her shoulders.

- “Don’t worry…” he said softly. “She'll be fine…”

Andromeda screams still filtered through the door and Ominis couldn't take it any more. He clamped his hands over his ears as hard as he could as a means to shield himself from the outside, making his heartbeat, strong and erratic, the only sound he could hear. Leaning against the wall, his whole body was stiff like a bow and his face was so scrunched up it almost hurt. Finally, after what seemed like an eternity, the wall behind him vibrated. His head raised immediately, his hands freeing his ears, and it felt just like his head had breached through water. The door had been opened, with Solomon standing on the threshold. He was speaking with one of the healers still inside. The room was quiet, with only a few faint moans emerging from it.

- “Thank you... I’ll leave you to it,” Solomon said to the woman, before turning to his nephew and niece.

- “How is she?” the twins asked hurriedly as they rose from their seats, their voice laced with worry.

Solomon let out a heavy sigh, then said:

- “Don't worry about her. This isn't the first crisis she's been through, and certainly not the last.” 

The children both nodded. There was no time to say anything else before the Uncle spoke again :

- “We're going home.” 

Without the slightest consideration from Ominis, the man’s heavy steps headed for the exit. Anne and Sebstian followed him, but not without turning hesitantly towards their friend. Ominis hardly had the heart to follow them but he strained himself to start walking. He suddenly felt... like a stranger. Every step felt suddenly heavy, as if a ball and a chain had been tied up around his ankles.

 

 

 

The journey back to Feldcroft was short, but far more tense than on their way in. While heavy silence reigned between him and the others, Andromeda's cries were still vivid in Ominis' mind, echoing like a ghost haunting a house. In view of their Uncle's silence, the twins apparently resigned to stay quiet. But what threw Ominis off the most was the sudden distance that had opened up between him and his friends. They hadn’t spoken to him once, and for the first time, he was afraid to do so. Never has he felt such uneasiness in their company, and it almost made him nauseous.

Andromeda had been afraid of him. Anyone denying it would be a fool. The woman had been terrified. Had he startled her? Would it have been better if he hadn’t stayed away from the others? Had he said something wrong? Of course not. Why would she have shouted at him this way then? Why would she have pronounced that same incantation that had been the cause of all her suffering ? Ominis gritted his teeth. Why everytime he had questions gnawing at him, more would be added to the stack ? Now, the meaning of the mysterious message left by Andromeda in the book was just caught up between more and more mysteries. And the more they accumulated, the less he hoped to get to the end of them.

His throat tight with frustration, he slotted himself into the hospital hall fireplace for the return journey, trying to make himself as small as possible and avoiding each contact with the three people around him, as if the slightest touch would burn him. A flow of hot air later, they were back to Feldcroft town square. Solomon unlocked the door of the house and rushed inside. Having been so welcoming and warm, the Sallow’s home suddenly felt cold and unfamiliar to Ominis. He heard Solomon hanging up his coat and moving towards the table, where he pulled up a chair. Even without saying anything, the message could not have been clearer. Solomon was silently asking them to join him. As the twins were already taking their seats, Ominis found himself unable to move, his feet as if fixed on the doorway.

- “You too,” thundered Solomon’s voice.

Ominis complied without question, pulling up a stool and placing himself on the vacant side of the table, directly opposite the man. His hands were trembling. The silence, which was palpable to say the least, didn't last long. 

- “I think an explanation is in order,” said the uncle calmly but gravely. It's obvious what happened is disturbing.’

Ominis was petrified in his chair. He briefly wondered what the twins could be thinking, before surprised himself by saying :

- “I... I don't know what happened... I don't understand…”

Around him, the twins reacted with Anne, who timidly intervened:

- “Uncle, Ominis didn't…”

- “Silence. Both of you.” snapped the man. “How could you think I wouldn't notice? You thought you were being clever, didn’t you? I knew it before he even set foot in here. He's a Gaunt, the very Gaunts I asked you to stay away from!”

The twins didn't say anything, certainly feeling ridiculous about their ploy. Ominis curved on himself a little more on his stool, as if every word Solomon said was another stone placed on his shoulders. Of course the man had guessed. There had been signs from the very start, in the way the man had shook his hand and said his name. He just didn't bother to heed them. A knot formed in his stomach. How het wished he could disappear.

- “I know your family, Ominis Gaunt,” said the uncle. “They may not talk about you, but you're no mystery to someone whose job has been to investigate wizards who think they're above the law.”

Ominis gulped. He knew his family had a reputation, not a very good one at that. A few rumors of deviantions with the law had reached his ears, but never he had imagined they would reach serious proportions. Yet that was what Solomon's tone clearly suggested. Nevertheless, he, on his part, was innocent. He had never done anything wrong, like practised any form of forbidden magic. Yet, he couldn’t find the courage to protest.

- “Ominis is a Gaunt, it's true…” admitted Sebastian. “But what does that matter? You saw he’s…”

- “What does it matter?” Solomon’s fist slammed into the table so hard that it shook on its legs. He seemed to realise his outburst and let out a sigh.

- “But how would you know… You know only the surface of the story”.

He cleared his throat and sat back in his chair.

- “Now is the time for you to know the whole story. I'm going to tell you both why I allowed him to set foot in this house,” he said, pointing with his chin at Ominis. “Why I allowed him to stay under our roof and visit your mother. What happened today didn't happen by chance. No. It was a thoughtful, planned event. For years I've been trying to figure out what had happened to your mother. What had got the better of my brother's health. For years I've been going to the Ministry in search of the slightest clue, the slightest detail that might shed some light on her condition and who had done this to her.”

The whole room vibrated at the sound of his booming voice, which bounced off the walls like thunder reverberating off the mountains, making the silence that followed all the more deafening.

- “Surely you remember the case of the Curse of the Lake?”

The twins nodded slowly, while Ominis could only shake his head.

- “Of course you remember. But you don’t know everything. You're now old enough now to know the whole story.”  He turned to Ominis. “The Curse of the Lake is the name given to a case dating back to 1876. A case about several disappearances, still unsolved to this day. Men and women who vanished one after the other as they were passing through or living on the shores of Lake Awe, one of the largest in the country. It happened over a span of several years.” 

Ominis inhaled in astonishment. The twins said nothing.

- “Yes, the events are eerily similar to what happened at Hogwarts recently. The difference here being that none of the people who disappeared ever turned up again. In 1879, Anne, Sebastian and their parents had been touring several towns in the country to sell their books on Muggles. Until that fateful evening when Andromeda disappeared, three years after the first case had been reported. However, she was the only victim to ever resurface. 

The twins gasped and looked at each other. Solomon let the information sink in before resuming :

- "Yes. While she wasn’t the first to disappear, she was the only one to ever return. As we were looking for her, some locals would say that she had been eaten by a monstrous creature from the lake, others that she had fallen victim to the curse that plagued the area. But even if she returned in one piece, she had serious after-effects, so severe that her health and memory were impaired. Her condition didn’t help the case except for one thing : the marks covering her body. It confirmed that the culprit was human. Only a human could cast Crucio. We also suspected she had been obliviated, given her lack of memory about what happened to her.”

Ominis heart clenched. He finally understood why Anne responded so badly each time the obliviate spell had been brought up.

- “Aside from this information, the only concrete conclusions were that nothing linked the victims to each other, in terms of background, age or social group, apart from the fact that they had last been seen on the shores of the lake and... that they were all Muggleborns.” 

Ominis swallowed. A bad feeling settled in his guts.

- “The culprit was a wizard, without a doubt. That's why the Ministry of Magic intervened. Aurors, including myself, were sent to investigate. Very few clues were found. There are many towns and estates on the lake’s shores, which made the area to be investigated and the population to be questioned very vast. But that never deterred me. Too much had been taken from me that day… Your mother… and later on, my brother.

The man swallowed, then pulled himself together.

- “In the six years following your mother's return, no more disappearances were reported and the case fell into oblivion. But as the Auror assigned to this case, in the face of such alleged crimes, it was out of the question for me not to find the culprit. Whoever was behind this had committed a mistake, I am sure of it. Your mother wouldn’t be there either way. Given their contempt for Muggles, the pureblood families whose presence around the lake was confirmed throughout the period of the disappearances were my main target. Each of their property was inspected but nothing came of it. So I tried a new approach. Ominis isn't the first pureblood I've lured all the way to Andromeda, in the hope that I might finally see the answer I've always hoped for in her eyes. Black, Malfoy, it was an almost impossible task. For those who didn't take the bait, there were still photographs and portraits, but those were very rare. But the Gaunts remained the most unattainable, the most enigmatic, leaving very little trace wherever they went and whatever they did, even in papers. When the Ominis’s name appeared in one of your letters, a bell rang in my head. It was a new omen. I had to give it a try if it would consolidate the suspicions I had long had about this family. They were more than confirmed. Today was proof that the Gaunts have something to do with your mother's fate!”

Ominis felt dizzy, as if the walls his wand was drawing in his head were spinning. He couldn't believe such a theory. Judging by their silence, the twins were just as shocked. Then Anne stammered: 

- “But... wait, Ominis…”

She suddenly began to sob. Ominis sensed that he would soon be joining her. Solomon let out a long, guttural sigh and his body relaxed. He pulled his wand from his sleeve and, in a complex gesture, conjured mugs in front of each of the three children.

- “I understand it can be shocking, and believe me, I'm sorry it's come to this. Christmas is supposed to be a happy time, but this is far more important. After what happened today, you deserved to know the whole story.”

A bottle of milk emerged from the sideboard and levitated above the table, filling the mugs one by one. Spoons full of chocolate powder followed, dipping into the mugs and stirring the contents. 

- "Aquatieda .”

The spell heated the contents of the mugs, spreading a chocolaty smell in the air. But even the sweetest aroma couldn’t lift the mood in the room.

- “But the story doesn't end here, unfortunately… As disbelieving as it was, the case had been reopened a few months ago...” the uncle continued. “Two people have been reported missing, in the same conditions as the others, only a few hours apart. Both were last seen in Little Hangleton, the same town where your mother turned up... and where the Gaunts' manor is.”

At this, all the children's breath got stuck in their throat. Ominis felt his eyes widen as the words reached his ears.

- “I think you're beginning to understand where I'm getting at, Ominis,’ said Solomon, leaning on his elbows and intertwining his fingers together in front of him. “There may be only rumours to substantiate the Gaunts' involvement in this case, but I know them to be more cunning and devious than any other pure-blood families I've had the chance to investigate. Today could mark a decisive turning point in this case, even if the evidence may not be equated to a finding of guilt.” 

Ominis was petrified. The heat of the cup against his palm was unbearable, but he was so stunned that he found himself unable to move them away. And even if he had wanted to take a sip, the mug felt like it weighed a ton. 

- “I wish I could convince myself that you have nothing to do with it. I don't think you're a bad boy. When you arrived two days ago, you weren't at all what I'd imagined.”

The boy didn’t say anything. He simply couldn't think of anything to say because... there was nothing. He barely heard Sebastian speaking : 

- “Uncle, please…”

But the man went on.

- “The timeline suggests that you were very young when Andromeda disappeared, too young to cast forbidden spells like Crucio. But I can't take the slightest risk. Who knows what these ... your family is capable of. So, for the purposes of the investigation, I need you to tell me everything you know. Andromeda was afraid of you. She recognised you. Do you know why?”

Ominis was doing his best not to cry. He shook his head, his eyes firmly closed. His hands were trembling so much that he could feel the contents of his mug sloshing. 

- “Has your family ever done anything... harmful in your presence?”

He shook his head.

- “Have you heard of any questionable activities?” 

Apart from rumours, nothing really concrete. He realised to his horror that he really didn't know much about his own family. What his father, brother and sister were really capable of. And... his aunt. In the end, he knew very little about her… He suddenly got chills. 

- "Uncle, stop, Sebastian insisted, only to be ignored.

- “Do you remember what you were doing in March 1879?” said the man.

Ominis shook his head, again and again, before freezing mid-motion. Six years ago. 1879. The year Andromeda published the first edition of his book. The year he supposedly met her, presumably before she disappeared, only to reappear a few days later. That year… was also the same year his aunt took him into her home to look after him, after his father basically relented him. Suddenly, it was as if pieces were beginning to fit together in his head. Events came rushing back in his head. Was it because of this case that the Muggle policemen had been by the lake at Little Hangleton ? So, his aunt’s stiffness and haste as they had crossed their path, on the way home from Diagon Alley, and the argument she had with his father the night after...

“ You promised. Marvolo. You promised to stop this madness! ”

“ Wasn't the night of the escape enough for you? The Gaunt family is much better than that… ”

Did those things mean that…

Suddenly, his head throbbed and a searing pain struck him in the chest before vanishing just as quickly, as instantaneously as a lightning. He groaned, his grip on the mug failing, letting it fall and bounce on the table, its contents spilling onto his jumper. But Ominis was too stunned to feel the burning liquid soak into the fibres of his top, nor to hear the cup roll and break on the floor.

- “Ominis!”

He heard the twin’s chairs being pushed aside as they got up, one jumping to his aid and the other turning to the man in anger.

- "Uncle, look what you did!"

Ominis didn’t hear the rest of their arguing as he became entirely focused on Anne's hands which had started pulling on his top. Only now did he feel the pain of a burn on his skin.

- “Quick, take off your jumper!” she told him.

But he let her do it, almost apathetically. A cloth was passed over his belly, only for the gesture to stop abruptly as Anne let out a gasp.

- “But... it's…” she breathed. With utmost care, her hand resumed peeling off his jumper, as if he had suddenly turned into crystal.

- “Is everything all right?” asked Sebastian. Solomon wasn’t far behind, until his loud steps stopped dead in their tracks: 

- “No…” he uttered in disbelief.

 

But before Ominis could reassure them, tell them that he was all right, Solomon's big hands latched onto his shoulders.  

- “Is this your family? Tell me! I need to know. It would prove so much!” He asked, desperation lacing his voice. Ominis didn’t understand the change of tone.

- “What?

- “Sit down, please,” said the man, at the same time he placed a stool behind the boy’s legs. “Go and get him another piece of clothing,” he instructed his nephew and niece. “I know it can be difficult, but you have to tell me everything. It's really important.”

- “What's going on? What are you talking about?’ asked Ominis, his previous worry giving way to frustration.

Solomon was about to answer, but then stopped himself. The man seemed taken aback by his question. When he spoke again, however, Ominis had almost wished he was deaf too.

- “That mark on your chest... Someone casted Crucio on you.”

Ominis said nothing. His breath stopped short in his throat. In his head, thoughts fell like stones, leaving his mind empty and silent. It just wasn't possible. This was a joke. A joke. He should remember. Such a... thing, he should remember. But no. There was nothing. Nothing that reminded him of the pain that had been described to him as unbearable as a lightning strike, or as skin being ripped off. He raised his hands to his chest but there was nothing under his trembling fingers. No wound. No scars.  

Ominis will certainly never forget Christmas 1885.

 

 

Notes:

Andromeda Sallow - ...

Andromeda is Anne and Sebastian's mother. Despite her background, being borned in a Muggle family, she had been invited at Hogwarts just like other Muggles before her who's magic potential only needed a little push. Being from the non-magical world, she, and a school friend, who will later become her husband, had set of writing dozens of books about Muggles, to open minds about their way of life, and show the reality of living without any magic. Their books had met their readers, and to push their carrier forward, they didn't hesitate to take on the road to promote their work, bringing their children with them, a great way for them to see the world. Unfortunately, the dream turned short when Andromeda disappeared mysteriously one day, as they were staying near Lake Awe. Since her miraculous return, she had been changed, in the worst way possible...

Chapter 15: Looking for answers

Notes:

Also available in French.

 

Huh? What's that? A new chapter?
Indeed! Hey, it has been a long time, hasn't it? 😅 Man, I feel so sorry for having been that looong. I really never expected that (you can thank my stupid brain for remembering others franchises that I forgot how much I also love and need to draw about)
I know some have expressed to be totally fine with the time it might take but I feel obliged to apologize this time, it went quite far.
Anyway, without further ado, please enjoy the chapter!

 

 

 Chapter 15 - Looking for answers

 

I don't know.

That evening in the Sallows’s house, these words hadn’t stopped flowing out of Ominis’s mouth. 

I don't know what to say. 

I don't know what you're talking about. 

I don't know what happened. 

I don't know anything.

I don't know…

…

Today was the first morning back at Hogwarts. Ominis was seated at one of the house tables in the Great hall, a letter freshly delivered by Nyx in his hands. Inside, Ominis had read something he had thought would never come. An apology. Solomon was apologising, regretting how his thirst for the truth had blinded him, and led him to ruin the Christmas holidays. It was a rather brief apology, but Ominis didn’t linger on it. Hearing, through his wand, that the man finally cared about his feelings didn't really matter that much to him, despite the deep sincerity in the voice. In fact, ever since that fateful evening at Feldcroft, Ominis hadn't really been the same. Or at least, the way he perceived the world and what he knew (or though he knew) had been completely transformed. 

After the ‘ I don't know ’ came the “ why ” and the ‘how’ . How did he get that mark on his chest? Why had he learned about it just recently? Why had he never known about it? Just as it was undetectable to the touch, the supposed origin of the mark was just as undetectable in his memory. And yet, the Sallows had been positive. Only Crucio could have caused it. And why would they lie ? Andromeda, the twins' own mother and Solomon’s step-sister, had her body covered by them. Despite all of this, Ominis couldn't believe it. It was just... inconceivable. 

Unsurprisingly, it didn't take long for the Auror in Solomon to resurface in his letter. For what felt like the umpteenth time, he insisted that if the slightest bit of information came back to the boy, it was of crucial importance that he informed the man right away. Unfortunately, that’s what terrified Ominis the most. If these bits of information were to exist, they would mean that there was, or rather, that there should have been , a memory, a remnant somewhere in his mind. But nothing came. Just as he couldn't remember meeting Andromeda the day she gave him her book on Muggles, he had no recollection of having suffered through this terrible spell…

In the last couple of days he spent at Feldcroft, he had been racking his brain, twisting questions around and around, until one stood out from the rest. Did his aunt know about all of this ? About the trace on his chest? Deep down, he knew the answer, as unpleasant and obvious as it was. Of course she had to know. Hadn't she been looking after him for years, right up his start at Hogwarts, just a few months ago? But then, why hadn't she told him? Why warn him about the worst three spells that exist, without ever revealing that one had been cast on him? The more he was thinking about it, the worse his theories were getting. 

For the rest of his stay at Feldcroft, he had been haunted by these questions, causing him to close off completely, falling deaf to Solomon's questions or the voices of his two friends. He had spent hours in silence, setting down his wand for the first time and plunging him back into a world he hadn’t thought he would miss. A world without shapes and distances. The room, the house, its inhabitants and their actions, like Anne trying to comfort him as best she could, or Sebastian refusing to speak to his uncle. He had wished he could feel nothing of that. It was as if his life had suddenly revealed itself to be a lie.

The nail was driven in further when his nightmares started to make sense. The flash of pain, the heart-wrenching scream. It reinforced Solomon's implication that something was indeed buried deep inside him, like some lost relics buried under an impenetrable jungle. It terrified him, to the point he could not sleep properly.

Feeling his eyelids drop, Ominis shook his head. He stretched, folded the letter and put it in his bag with a sigh. Solomon had finished it by saying he would investigate further that he already was, so that justice could finally be done to his sister-in-law and now, the young Gaunt. Unfortunately, however useful Ominis would have liked to be to the case, he just had nothing concrete to offer, aside from the mark on his chest. Anyone could have cast the spell on him. That didn’t stop Solomon from suspecting the Gaunts however, making them his main lead. Yet, despite his resentment towards his own family, Solomon's insistence on their guilt and the lack of other options, Ominis could not simply accuse them without any proof or facts. 

A group of students burst into laughter from the other side of the great hall, bringing Ominis back to the present. He hadn't expected the return to Hogwarts to have such a good impact on him. Even if nothing could erase what happened during the Christmas holidays from his mind, Hogwarts offered a welcomed change of environment, like a different air to breathe. Things like going back to a planned daily routine, experiencing the lively atmosphere of the school, or reuniting with his little owl had the pleasant effect of putting his gloomy thoughts aside, even if just temporarily.

- “You hear that, Ominis?” Sebastian's voice suddenly asked, from the opposite side of the table. “Cressida is safe and well!”

Ominis, Anne and Sebastian were currently seated at the Hufflepuff House table with Poppy, waiting for lunch time. She had invited them to join her, not having the opportunity to do so the day prior, with all the ecstasy of the student’s return and the first banquet of the new year.

- "Are you serious? Hoisted out of the water on a Kelpie’s back? I can hardly believe it!" exclaimed Anne, flabbergasted.

- "Isn't it amazing?" replied Poppy, rubbing her hands excitedly. Noticing her giddiness, she regained her seriousness with a cough. "I didn't believe it, at first. I had to read Mrs Weasley's message over and over to finally process the news. I'd spent my holidays sending her letters, hoping to hear from her. And four days ago, my wishes were granted. As soon as she knew, she answered back. I never felt so relieved in my entire life!”

- “That's wonderful news! We were really worried too," replied Sebastian, before musing: “That makes me want to ride on a Kelpie even more now.”

- “Cressida is in the infirmary, I take it?” asked Anne.

- “Yes. I popped in earlier to see her," replied Poppy. But I couldn't stay for too long, as she still needs to rest. She caught a very nasty cold. Mrs Blainey told me that the water was freezing when they found her. Thank Merlin that Kelpie had kept her above the surface. If it hadn’t... Oh no, I don't even want to think about it!” 

- "Then don’t!" exclaimed Sebastian. “She's safe now, and that's all that matters. Mrs Blainey will get her back on her feet in no time.”

- “Seb’s right,” said Anne with a big smile. “How about we pay her a visit tomorrow? Maybe she'll feel a bit better?”

Ominis, his pale eyes fixed on the table, showed little to no reaction to what was being said.

- “Is everything all right, Ominis?" worried Poppy, leaning her head towards him to study his face. “You’ve been awfully quiet since you got here…”

The boy’s breath hitched, suddenly feeling stares weighing down on him. The twins' smiles had disappeared from their faces and their eyebrows were knitted together in barely concealed concern. 

- “Ah... Yes, sorry," he stammered, nodding sheepishly. “I'd be happy to visit her, yes. In fact... I was wondering. Does she show strange marks on her arm the likes of which Amit did?

- "Ah, how silly of me!" exclaimed Poppy, her palm slapping audibly onto her forehead. “How could I forget this? Yes, her forearm was indeed covered with strange... marks. Some sort of pattern, like someone had drawn… roots or something on her.

- "Yeah, or lightning bolts," added Anne.

- “That works too," nodded the young girl. “And, as I feared, Cressida is also showing a lack of magic…”

- “Dang it!" growled Sebastian through clenched teeth.

- “The lake, the marks and then the lack of magic..." pondered Anne, her chin pinched between her fingers. “Their disappearances are definitely no coincidence… What on earth is going on?” 

At the same moment, a second fleet of owls swooped down from openings in the Great Hall’s roof, diving towards the tables and dropping another round of mail. Sebastian reached up and snatched what sounded to be a newspaper, probably the Daily Prophet edition of the day.

- “Speaking of Amit, have you seen him?" he asked, moistening a finger and starting to leaf through the pages.

- “Oh right," said Anne, turning towards the Ravenclaw table, just behind the Hufflepuff table where they were sitting. “I wanted to go and ask him how he was doing. I hope he still enjoyed his holidays with his family. You know, with his lack of magic and all…”

- “Well, speaking of which…” mumbled Poppy, her head dropping forward with a deep sigh, “he hasn't come back”.

- “What?”

- “Duncan told me,” she continued with a defeated voice. “From what I know, his parents have refused to let him come back until somebody gets to the bottom of this… mess. And, who would blame them?”

- “Oh no, poor Amit…”

Suddenly, Sebastian spewed everything he'd just drunk onto his newspaper, some droplets spilling right onto Ominis. 

- "Sebastian! I'm right in front of you, I'll have you know!" lashed the latter.

At the outburst, his three friends froze, dumbfounded . It was so unusual to see the boy so angry. Sensing their surprise, Ominis regained his composure and cleared his throat:

- "What on earth did you read in there that almost got me drenched?"

- "Well... hum..." stammered Sebastian. “It’s the disappearances. It’s being covered!”

- “No surprise there…” sighed his sister. “I’d say it’s about time. With two disappearances presumably linked, it was a matter of time before the media jump on the case.”

- “That’s not just it! Read it and we’ll see if you keep your cool!”

After exchanging a dubious look, both girls took (or rather, pinched) the water-soaked paper with their fingertips and began to read aloud the article hammered by Sebastian’s finger, nearly tearing through the wet paper.

 

"Mysterious disappearances at Hogwarts”.

For several weeks now, the infamous and renowned school of witchcraft and wizardry has been plagued by a strange phenomenon. To this date, two students have been missing, only to mysteriously resurface no more than two days after the report of their absences. It may seem like they had been on some misadventure, but we have been shocked to learn that these two young people happen to be incapacitated of their magic whatsoever, as if under some sort of blockage. As of today, nothing has yet been found to shed light on their abnormal condition, especially when both victims seem incapable of remembering what happened to them. Mr Phineas Nigellus Black, the current headmaster of the wizarding school, shares his views and the counter-measures to be put in place: " I, as Hogwarts committed director, is putting all my time and resources at disposal to try and get to the bottom of this affair. (Anne huffed at that) The Ministry can count on me to send reports on this affair and the case progression. The unknown nature of these two incidents is disturbing to say the least, but I doubt very much that it was a premeditated act, and you can rest assured that I am relieved about that. Why snatch students only to free them without asking for anything in return, except perhaps... their magic? No one is capable of such a thing. The cause is perhaps more... mystical than one might think. Hogwarts was built in a place steeped in what we call ‘Ancient magic’, which we still know very little about. Perhaps we are witnessing this magic at play. But to stick to the facts, the only observation we can be sure of is that the two students have lost their use of magic and are both of Muggle origin. "

“This is disconcerting and unprecedented news, to say the least, causing a great deal of concern among the students and their parents. Will this phenomenon cease or can we expect other Muggle-borns to fall victim to what seems to be - 

 

- "- a curse.”

The new voice, imbued with disdain, made the four friends jump up on their bench. They turned around and found themselves face to face with Marvolo, flanked as always by Theresia.

- “You? What do you want?” spat Anne. 

- “Nothing in particular. We were just minding our own business when your reading caught our attention," replied Marvolo. “Interesting take on that affair, don’t you think?”

- “It's all rubbish," said Anne sternly, folding the paper shut and tearing it in the process. “A curse? And then what? That would be far too easy.”

At that moment, Ominis stood up, to the surprise of his friends, and faced his brother.

- “I must speak with you. In private.”

For the first time in the presence of his brother, there was not an ounce of fear in him. His thirst for answers was taking over everything else.

- “Would you look at that…" said Marvolo nonchalantly. “Why should I waste my time listening to you, who has been crawling so low you now eat with the badgers?”

- “That’s rich, coming from a snake!" retaliated Poppy.

The insult went over Ominis, who merely raised his hand to prompt Poppy to stay seated, while Marvolo snapped back : 

- “How dare you, you-

- “It's about Crucio .”

At Ominis’ words, Marvolo fell silent. He recovered almost instantly, but that short suspended time was all Ominis needed. His friends around him, along with a few other students, looked at each other, out of confusion. 

- “Since when do one pronounce the incantation of one of the most unforgivable spells as if speaking to a mere house elf?" said Marvolo, lifting both hands in fake outrage. “Hearing you say it is almost comical.”

Ominis may have been imagining things, but he swore that his brother was indeed holding back laughter. And that made his blood boil.

- “Don't try to be the clever one this time. I can tell from your snide tone that you know perfectly well what I want to talk about.”

- “Any idea what he’s mumbling about, Theresia?" said Marvolo, lazily turning to his sister.

- “Well, if I had one, it got lost, somewhere in my mind…”

The sentence had Ominis' blood freeze.

- "That's enough! You know exactly what I'm talking about!” he burst out suddenly. “Quit treating me like I am a fool! I know you've been leading me around by the nose, every and anytime you could. Mocking me, harassing me, lying to me. Just like you’re doing right now. You're constantly hiding things but I won’t be fooled anymore. I know now that keeping me in the dark amuses you. So whatever you may hide, I will find out. Whether it concerns the past or the present. Because I know you're up to something, right as we speak! You're always up to something. And I intend to get to the bottom of it!”

He hadn't realised it, but he had practically screamed. Suddenly, something - a roll of parchment, perhaps - landed on his shoulder.

- “What's going on here? No outbursts," Mrs Weasley's voice rang out behind him. Out of anger, Ominis had been deaf to the deputy Headmaster's footsteps, despite knowing how to recognize it, even in the most crowded of places. "Lunch time is almost here, I’d suggest everyone return to their tables. And right away."

The fire raging inside Ominis seemed to have been snuffed out by Mrs Weasley's intervention, and he found himself stepping aside, his head low. A docile reaction Marvolo did not fail to snicker at.

- “And that goes for you too, Mr and Mrs Gaunt," said Mrs Weasley curtly, glaring at the two older students over her half-moon spectacles. “Unless you need me to take you there by the hand?” 

Anne and Sebastian suppressed a chuckle which Ominis, with his keen hearing, did not fail to appreciate.

It was after a pathetic attempt at a speech from Phineas, which was nothing more than a silly retelling of Daily Prophet’s article, that they were finally able to eat. As always, the meal was a true delight. But amidst the laughter and the clatter of cutlery, Ominis was tired. Tired of being constantly anxious, for months on end. First, being concerned about his aunt's and her whereabouts, and now that the facts were piling up, worried about himself.

 

 

 

Since the first day, professor Ronen was Ominis' favourite teacher. However, his place at the top of the podium was about to be undermined by Mrs Fig. Now that they entered the second part of their First Year program, they were getting new teachers and classes. While Ominis liked almost all the teaching staff, there were two exceptions: Professor Binn, who taught History of Magic, and Professor Sharp, the potions teacher. While the first made everyone doze off, the latter was inflexible, whether his student could use their full senses or not. 

The new professor, Mrs Fig, was teaching Magical Theory with her husband. When he was assigned to fifth, sixth and seventh years, she was in charge of the younger ones. And today was the first time that Ominis' group had lessons with her.

What immediately appealed to Ominis was her almost childlike exuberance. Coupled with being a true chatterbox, the result was a very passionate persona that kept her inner child energy alive.

- “My sincere apologies, children, if I'm not in the best of moods for our first class!" Mrs Fig said as she stomped past her student desk to hers, at the end of the room, her bushy hair bouncing on her head with each stride. “It makes my hair stand on end to hear our dear Headmaster telling such... nonsense about ancient magic!”

- “What is ancient magic?" asked Natsaï, from Gryffindor house. 

- “Oh, how I'd love to elaborate on it, my dear. But regrettably, I'm afraid it's not included in this year’s curriculum, especially not on your very first course in Magical Theory! Nevertheless, I greatly appreciate your interest! Know that curiosity is very welcome in my class! Well, especially when I don’t have to stick to the program, which isn’t always easy!” she finished with a little laugh. “Dear me, not five minutes in and I’m already being silly.” she then mumbled.

Anne then raised her hand and asked: 

- “If I may ask, do you disagree with what the Headmaster said on… ancient magic?”

At the question, Mrs Fig's head whirled around toward Anne so quickly that the glasses she was wearing on her nose nearly flew across the room.

- “Absolutely! He has neeeither the expertise nooor the legitimacy to offer such unfounded arguments. My husband and I have been studying it for years, our knowledge making us the most reliable people in this school on this topic ," she asserted, her index held high and her chest puffed out with pride. “In any case, proofs have been found to substantiate other leads in this affair, from me as well as Mrs Gar- (she immediately shut her mouth) What I am blabbering about? This is neither the time nor the place to talk about this!” 

- “Oh, please, if you have discovered something, anything, I need to know," a young girl suddenly asked in the front row, to everyone's surprise. She continued, her voice getting smaller: 

- “You see, my parents… are very worried people. And I don't want them to get me out of school! So if there is anything that I could learn to reassure them…”

Mrs Fig closed her eyes and let out a long sigh, her shoulder dropping. She shook her head, putting her bushy hair back in place.

- “Oh my... It's understandable that, from a parent’s point of view, it would be justified to take such measures. What I can assure you is that ancient magic is not our culprit! For centuries, only a handful of people have been identified as being able to see it, some even to master it. Nevertheless, only through someone can this ancient magic be triggered, intentionally or not. I don’t believe it to act on this own accord. Also, if your two comrades' lack of magic is caused by a spell, there are ways to know about it. Besides, all magic leaves traces behind, whether visible or not.” 

Ominis couldn't help but frown, his hand closing over the mark on his chest.

- “Oh, time is ticking! Enough with the chatter, get your textbooks, please!”

- “Are these traces you're talking about the same ones Amit and Cressida had on their arm?" continued Anne, more than determined to glean every last scrap of information.

- “No," replied the woman, who paused in unpacking her belongings, almost magically forgetting her preoccupation with the time. “These strange markings appeared to be “organic”, to use Mrs Garlick’s own- Oh, here I am, digressing again!” 

Anne and Sebastian, like other members of their group, murmured to each other. 

- “Organic? Like an animal?

- “No more questions about it, it's not my role! Damn me and my blabbering box!” 

Ms Fig raised her arms to regain the attention of her class.

- “The moral of the story is that before spreading theories, especially in the newspapers, you should do a minimum of consultation. I never thought I'd say this one day, but please, don't follow our Headmaster's example. He's far too self-centred to realise the bad publicity he's creating.”

- “So that's it, my parents are going to bring me back home, it's inevitable!” sobbed the young girl in the front row.

- “Oh dear..." said Mrs Fig in mild panic, leaning towards her pupil. “Don't rush to conclusion. You're still here, aren't you? So make the most of it! Not a minute to lose!" she announced, straightening up. “Together, let's discover the magic that makes our daily lives so beautiful and fascinating. Now that you have learned how to use it, time to understand it!”

And once Madame Fig had started, there was no way of getting the subject of the disappearances back on the table, much to Anne's dismay. It was obvious that Hogwarts was entering a precarious time now that the media had got hold of the story, publishing all sorts of theories which, with a Headmaster as incompetent as Phineas, could do great harm to its reputation. Nevertheless, it seemed that the investigation was progressing, even if there were still countless unanswered questions. Questions that once again kept Ominis up late into the night.

Wrapped up in his blanket, his first day back from holiday was replaying in his mind. After Mrs Fig's lesson had come Professor Ronen's class. Meeting him again, with his infectious good humour, had lifted his spirits. In the end, he decided to leave the top step of the podium to the cheery man. Then, he thought back to the evening meal that followed, and the interesting conversation with the twins after Mrs Fig's clumsy revelations.

Traces of organic origins. Did this mean that the traces were not caused by a spell? Besides, are spells the only way to do magic? No. Magic can be expressed in many different ways. Mrs Howin had shown them that for many creatures, magic was an integral part of their being. Same in Mrs Garlick's classes, where she had proved that, time and again, plants could live on and produce magic without depending on spells. 

Suddenly, several pieces began to fit together.

Roots.

What if… What if the thing that caused the strange mark on Amit and Cressida's arm was none other than... a plant? It seemed too simple and too far-fetched at the same time. And yet, he could find some sense in this theory. Why else mention Mrs Garlick and not Mrs Howin? Besides, it was the exact description given by Poppy. Quite reliable, coming from someone who knew about creatures, plants and animals alike, like no other students of her age. If this hypothesis proved to be true, was this plant the true cause behind the lack of magic then? Ominis's thoughts suddenly veered, as they always do, towards his aunt. As a renowned botanist, could she know about such a feat?

As he racked his brains, his train of thoughts slowly but surely returned to more worrying and personal matters. The mark on his chest, this blind spot in his memories, and that scream that echoed in his nightmares…

Ominis let out an annoyed sigh. He sat upright on his bed for a few seconds without moving. His head felt like it was spinning on his neck. He was never going to get some sleep at this rate, despite his flagrant lack of it lately. Putting on his slippers and his cloak, he headed for the door, unlocked it and shuffled into the common room.

It must have been the middle of the night. Only his footsteps on the floor broke the silence. As always, on his sleepless night, he was drawn to the large stained glass windows at the back of the room, the one that overlooked the depths of Black Lake. Although growing thin every time he tried, his hope of crossing paths with the mermaid still remained. Even months later, he remembered clearly that fantastic night when the creature had appeared on the other side of glass. That magical meeting still pulled off the amazing feat to put a smile on his face. He could almost see the silhouette of the creature floating on the other side, as clearly as if it was actually there. But unlike previous times, today’s wishful vision seemed to drag on forever. He frowned. Raising his wand to the glass, he almost fell backwards in surprise.

A mermaid. There was one, right behind the glass.

He clumsily stood back up, overwhelmed by a sense of wonder and disbelief. That couldn’t be a dream, could it? Was it the same mermaid he had seen months ago, the one he had so hoped to meet again? He approached the glass carefully, his wand still raised in the creature's direction. There was no doubt, it was her. He recognised the discontinuous shape of her tail. Would he ever know the cause of this physical deformity? While his attention was entirely focused on the creature's tail, movement above him redirected his attention towards her face. Her sharp-toothed mouth opened and closed, and each of her webbed fingers were pressed on each side of her face, while mimicking her mouth’s mouvements. Ominis frowned. Was she trying to talk to him? Or rather, did she want him...

- “... to talk?”

The creature jerked back. Ominis did the same, but suddenly feared that she had disappeared into the curtain of kelp, just like their first meeting. Fortunately, she had stopped. Slowly, he saw her go back behind the glass and repeat the same movements with, it seemed, even more energy. Ominis couldn't believe what he was experiencing. Was he... communicating with her? 

- “Can you... hear me?”

The mermaid jumped, but stayed where she was. When she actually nodded, Ominis gasped audibly.

- “How is that possible…?"

The glass must have been five centimetres thick, enough to muffle any external sounds. A big smile spread across his lips, almost making his cheeks ache. When was the last time he'd smiled that much, he wondered.

Talking to a mermaid. If anyone had ever told him he would do that one day, he would have dismissed it immediately. The mermaid seemed almost as stunned as he was. He may have finally understood what had scared her away the first time. Had it been the surprise of hearing him saying ‘hello’ ?

- “But, does that mean... that you understand me?” the boy suddenly realised.

Another nod. Ominis grabbed his hair in sheer amazement, his smile so wide he could almost feel it touch his ears.

- “How is that possible," he repeated.

At this, the mermaid pointed a clawed finger at him, or rather, at his wand. Ominis's smile vanished, replaced by a frown.

- “My wand? Is that how…?”

It seemed like, after all this time, he still hadn’t discovered all his faithful companion's secrets. Not that it bothered him, on the contrary. Could the mermaid decipher the waves emitted by his wand? If so, it only seemed like he could make himself understood, and not the other way round. He suddenly had an idea.  

- “Could you… help me?”

The mermaid tilted her head to one side, apparently paying attention.

- “Have you noticed anything unusual in the lake?”

The creature's bulging eyes suddenly crinkled. Then, as Ominis had hoped (or feared), she nodded. He was about to ask her exactly what before remembering that she could only answer with gestures.

- “Do you know about the missing students? There have been two. Each time, they... reappeared from the lake.”

Another nod.

- “Really?! Tell me more! I mean… show me?”

The mermaid held one arm flat before her, and began to imitate a wave with it. Her hand opened and closed at the same time, evoking a mouth, making her arm look like a long-shaped creature.

- “A... snake?”

The mermaid's arms then spread, evoking something large. She then showed the water all around her and began to swim around, making elegant circles.

- “A big snake... the lake...  In the water… Oh! The scybdis?”

The mermaid stopped and nodded contentedly. 

- “But... what does it have to do with the…”

He was then stunned by the memory of the Scydbe's words in parseltongue: ‘ What - out - friends .’

Keep an eye on your friends.

Suddenly, noises. Ominis turned, his wand pointing in the direction of the sounds.

They were no louder than the rustling of clothes, but he could still hear them in the distance. Then, footsteps. Climbing down the spiral staircase leading to the common room.  One person? No, two. At this hour? He suddenly had a suspicion. Wanting to be sure, he reluctantly moved away from the glass towards the entrance to the room, several dozen metres away. 

Two silhouettes did appear, only to freeze on the spot. And then run.

- “Wait!" said Ominis, still too far away to see who these shapes belonged to.

But it only took a few hasty whispers between the two fugitives to confirm his suspicions.

- “Marvolo? Theresia?” 

He tried to quicken his pace. Unfortunately, not being used to running, his foot caught on one of the huge carpets covering the stone floor, and he was sent tumbling forward, his wand slipping out of his grasp. But just like that night a nightmare had it fall out of his bed and roll on the floor, he managed to get it back almost immediately, feeling its presence a few metres away from him. 

He sat up and stilled, listening. They were gone, as quickly as they had arrived. He wanted to head for the fifth and sixth year dormitories but changed his mind. The mermaid.

He hastily returned to the window but was dismayed to discover that she had left. Waiting for several minutes was in vain as she did not reappear. Still, he found himself satisfied. He decided to make his way back to his room and locked the door quietly behind him. Back in bed, sleep was hard to come by, his brain still reeling from the new information he had gathered. He couldn’t wait to share his discoveries the next morning with the twins and hope sleep will quickly catch up with him. He had recently gotten into the habit of putting his wand down on his bedside table, hoping isolating his mind from the physical world around him would ease his slumber. Still, it did not always work. Something suddenly moved behind the curtains of his bed.

- “Sebastian?" he whispered.

- Endormira .

No sooner had he heard the word, which was no louder than a whisper, he searing torpor took over his body. He fell in such a deep sleep that it felt like just an instant later, Sebastian was shaking his shoulder, trying to wake him up.

- “Ominis, hey, Ominis!”

The boy grumbled, his eyes heavy and swollen. He sat up slowly on his bed, rubbing his eyes. Everything was a blur in his head. He suddenly wasn’t sure if he hadn’t dreamed the whole mermaid discussion thing. Or even running into those students.

- “It's about time!" Sebastian quipped. “The night has caught up with you, sleepy head. Hurry up or we'll be late.”

Still half asleep, Ominis pulled his feet out of bed and directed his hand towards his wand. His hand fumbled on the top of the table. Again and again. His finger landed on his lamp, books, and writing quill. Everything, except his wand.

 

 

 

Notes:

Miriam Fig - 1886

Miriam Fig is part of the teaching staff at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Like her husband, Professor Eleazar Fig, she teaches magical theory. She is quite the energetic and passionate teacher who takes great pleasure in teaching her young students, regularly getting far ahead of herself. Her insatiable fascination has led her to become one of the few witches of her time to study in depth what she calls ancient magic, a power full of mystery that only a few “chosen” can see and master.

Chapter 16: Back in the dark

Notes:

Also available in French.

 

Hi, everyone!
I hoped you had a great summer time. As for me, I've been reading a lot, far more than usual (if you're not acquainted with Jules Verne's books, I highly suggest you give them a try!) as well as continuing this little story, bits by bits. And today, the 16th chapter is out!
I hope you'll enjoyed it :) The next installed might come quite late in the year, as I have big plan coming ahead. But be reassured, it will be published no matter what! The end is approaching, slowly but surely. I'm counting 6 to 7 more chapters left, tough! Please, bear with me!
Without further ado, enjoy the read!

 

 

 Chapter 16 - Back in the dark

 

- “Where is your wand, Mr Gaunt?”

No matter the circumstances, Ominis would never grow tired of Mrs Weasley’s perceptiveness. The woman immediately noticed something was missing as soon as she allowed the three Slytherins in her office. The disbelief in her tone, as she said these words, was quite unusual, if not out of place, coming from her, no doubt caused by the sight of the blind boy’s right hand, which, in the place of a wand, was closed around a very different kind of guide: Anne's hand.

- "That’s why we're here," said the girl in a low voice.

Without wasting a second, Sebastian began to recount the events to the deputy headmistress, who listened in silence. Ominis was quiet as well, his pale gaze fixed on the floor. He still couldn't believe it.

His wand… was gone.

Less than an hour ago, he and Sebastian had been appalled to discover that his precious wand was nowhere to be found. That very same wand that had never left his side since its acquisition many months ago. That very same wand that allowed him not only to interact with the world around, but to live like he never lived before. Losing it was like losing a part of him. His magic. His independence. Gone. Just like that. No chance looking in the folds of his bedsheets, or between his mattress and the bed frame, or in between the floor tiles. They had turned the room upside down, yet, the wand had been nowhere to be found. Ominis was distraught. Being deprived of it had suddenly plunged him back into that familiar yet undesired darkness that he thought to never experience again. 

In light of the situation, the trio had hurried to Mrs. Weasley's office rather than to their first class of the day, which was History of Magic. With any luck, their absence had gone as unnoticed to Professor Binns as the man’s own ghostly shape when the daylight was too bright.

- "To get this straight, the wand is nowhere to be found, despite your efforts looking for it, Mrs. Weasley summarised in a clear, controlled voice. And you’re assuring me that it was in your possession until late last night?"

Ominis nodded vigorously.

- “And, rather than being accidentally misplaced, you suggest that it was stolen from you ?"

Ominis nodded again, without hesitation. This had Mrs Weasley leaning on her desk, her hands joined in front of her face, just under her glasses.

- "That is most unfortunate. You see, for obvious reasons, your dormitory's access is regulated using very advanced magic, as all doors are enchanted against even the most efficient unlocking spells. They only open to the occupants of the room, as you were shown on your first day. No one outside the occupants of that specific room can therefore enter or leave on their own."

- "Right? That's why it can only be Edmund or Simon!" proclaimed Sebastian, for at least the fifth time since the beginning of this matter.

These names referred to the two other first-years who shared Sebastian and Ominis’ dormitory. But at the time of the incident, the two other boys had promised they knew nothing. The problem was brought to their attention at the same time as them. However, no matter how much Sebastian insisted on his accusation, his friend Gaunt wasn’t very keen on sharing it.

- "If you pretend your wand wasn’t lost, why dismiss your roomates’s  involvement?" Mrs. Weasley asked him calmly.

After a short silence, the blind boy replied:

- "Edmund and Simon did not lie, I could hear the sincerity in their voices. Besides, it's not like them to act in this way."

Sebastian let out an exasperated grunt.

- "Ominis, think about it, he said. Edmund and Simon are the only ones besides us who can open our door. They must be involved, one way or the other."

- "You’re so stubborn sometimes, Sebastian! Anne said irritably. Ominis must have good reasons to say otherwise."

- "Maybe, but... is thinking they‘re being honest reason enough? Sebastian replied. What if they were tricked into doing it? I wouldn't be surprised if Marvolo or Theresia had something to do with it."

- "What are you implying, Mr Sallow? Mrs Weasley responded in a firmer tone. Are you suggesting his own brother or sister are behind all of this?"

Ominis wasn’t surprised to hear the disbelief in the deputy's voice. It was indeed something to consider. Because, as strangely as it may seem, he couldn't dismiss this theory as easily as the one incriminating their roommates. The previous night's events were leading his judgement. What he had first thought to only be a dream gained in clarity with each passing hour, as he became more and more convinced that he had somehow caught his brother and sister in some sort of act while interacting with the mermaid. The troubling part, however, was to know why they had come from outside the common room, instead of their own dormitory, if it was to attempt to steal his wand? Something else, as he had been suspecting, was definitely at play.

- "It could be a lead, he finally said. My brother and sister have always had the nasty habit of messing around with me."

- "I see, replied Mrs. Weasley, with a disappointed sigh. How regrettable talented students such as your brother and sister engage in these sort of reprehensible behaviours, too often left unpunished by our Headmaster," she deplored.

- "Marvolo and Thérésia, talented students? This can’t be real!" snorted Sebastian, whose smile faded as soon as he saw Ominis and Mrs Weasley’s serious faces.

- "It is as real as it can be, Mr Sallow, answered the deputy headmistress. As Theresia's transfiguration teacher for several years now, I’ve seen her potential. This young girl works wonders in shape-shifting, something I myself was incapable of at her age. She exceeds her classmates' abilities, by far. I wouldn't be surprised if she could already transfigure herself. I had the good impression that their unfortunate misdeeds had become less frequent this year, but now your accusations cast doubt on that assessment. However, as Mr Sallow is pointing out, I’m afraid the interpretation of someone’s voice alone won’t suffice to rule out Simon and Edmund. And we still have the question of the lock on our hands."

- "It's not just their voices, Ominis replied straightforwardly. If my wand had been in their possession, I would have sensed it."

- "Sensed? How so?" asked Anne, surprised.

- "I can sense my wand, he added. Even when I don't have it in my hand. I've proven this on several occasions, where I was able to retrieve it by myself. It's true. It happened again just last night, in fact. This means that if it had been in the dormitory, I think I would have eventually sensed it. But this morning, I felt nothing at all..."

- "By Merlin, I didn't know you could do that! exclaimed Sebastian admiringly. I’ve never heard of such a bond between a wizard and his wand."

- "Indeed, said Mrs. Weasley. And this is reason enough to act."

At this, Ominis heard the women stand up and walk to the left side of the room. A large drawer was opened and its content, which sounded like wooden utensils, were rummaged through.

- "This one, perhaps... no, that one," he could hear Mrs. Weasley mutter between two swirls of her hand.

With a small satisfied hum, the woman closed the drawer and returned to her desk before going around it to face the trio. A few seconds passed before Anne reacted and guided Ominis's hand in front of him. It was so strange for the twins to see their friend so dependent, when they had always known him to be confident in his actions.

Mrs. Weasley placed something in Ominis' open palm. The sensation took him back several months ago, between the walls of old Grimard's shop.

It was a wand.

- "Here's a replacement wand. For today, follow your schedule as usual with the help of your friends, then come back to my office tonight, following your last class. I'll teach you how to use Revelio, a spell useful to find objects, which I hope will help you decipher your surroundings and give back some of your bearings."

Ominis listened while studying the wand with his fingers. The texture was at the opposite of the smooth, immaculate surface of his precious wand. This one, made of wood, felt rougher to the touch. More or less pronounced grooves ran along it, from tip to handle. That last part was decorated with embossed regular spirals descending to a rounded tip.

- "Revelio will certainly not match your wand’s abilities, but it's the only alternative I have at the moment," said Mrs Weasley, sitting back in her desk chair. She picked up what sounded to be a stack of letters. 

- "Now, you need to catch up with your program of the day, as I can't spare any more time on your account. With all these strange events, parents are sending me all kinds of requests. However, I'll make sure a search will be carried out in your dormitory and, if necessary, throughout the castle."

Gripping the wand tightly, Ominis found just enough strength to whisper a “thank you”, unable to contain tears of both sadness and anger from slowly descending on his cheeks.

 

 

 

As promised by Mrs. Weasley, Ominis was quickly introduced to Revelio, a spell that does what its name suggests. Casting it produced a magical wave able to display in one’s head the shape of their surroundings, even past close obstacles and walls. It was surprisingly similar to what his missing wand was capable of, except for the fact that the emitted wave was not continuous and had to be constantly summoned, while its range was at least half as wide. Nevertheless, it was better than nothing. Not that Ominis really had a choice. Now familiar with the spell, Mrs. Weasley had given him one week to train and get used to it, in hope he would regain some semblance of autonomy. A week which started so badly that, even days after, it still left a very bitter taste in the boy’s mouth.

It took him two whole days to feel comfortable with the spell. Two days during which he has never felt so frustrated in his entire life. How he had cursed his clumsiness and dependence on the twins. Returning to this life in darkness, after months of freedom and ease, had been very hard to accept. Tasks that had become so simple thanks to his wand had felt like trials again. But what had undermined Ominis the most was the attention his sudden loss of independence had earned him. When still in possession of his wand, students would sometimes notice him pointing it in front of him on his way to his class or common room. But what had always been curiosity had now turned into pity, if not mockery. It took less than a day without his wand to cross paths with Marvolo and Theresia, who, at the sight of their younger brother being led by the hand, did not hesitate to emphasize how much of a burden he was, or ever were for that matter. Ominis had been tempted to give them a piece of his mind, but his condition and lack of evidence forced him to swallow his anger and move on, his heart full of anger. 

After two unbearable days of running into one challenge to the next, both literally and figuratively, came the relief of control. Finally, Ominis had grown accustomed enough to Revelio to gradually let go of his supports, meaning, his friends. Frustratingly, the spell finally allowed him to find his way in a manner effectively similar to his original wand. However, he was quickly exhausted from using it all the time, that is, every time he needed to interact with anything close. And just as he had become used to this new way of moving around, came the time to meet with Mrs. Weasley again, to share his thoughts about this new tool and determine if any other arrangements might be necessary on his account. But, if he was being honest with himself, all he hoped from this meeting was to find out if the research promised by the deputy had been conducted, and above all, fruitful.

Ominis knocked on the door and entered, both impatient and apprehensive. Mrs. Weasley was busy walking around her office in fast paces, the sound of crumpled paper and hurried footsteps echoing off the walls.

- “I’m afraid I can't be disturbed today..., she said before straightening up and freezing. Oh, it’s you, Mr Gaunt.”

The boy suddenly realised that he had entered without being given permission.

- “I'm sorry, he stammered, I will come back another time.”

He started to turn on his heel when Mrs Weasley answered :

- “No, no, my boy. Come in. This is what we had planned.”

Ominis closed the door behind him, leaving Anne and Sebastian in the hallway. The question about the search for his wand was burning on his lips. But as he was about to ask, Mrs. Weasley beat him to it.

- “I'm afraid nothing came out of our searches so far, she sighed, shaking her head. I’ve tasked Mr Moon to look for your wand in every Slytherin's dormitories, but the lack of results had prompted him to search the other houses' common room as well. Still, to no avail. Mr Moon is currently undergoing searches in every common area in the castle, as quickly as his time allows it. Your wand’s whereabouts are yet to be uncovered. That's all I can tell you for now."

Ominis lowered his head, the lump in his throat growing even bigger. The truth was that he suspected as much, for he had overused Revelio himself, not only to interact with the world but also in constant search of the slightest clue, to the point of giving him headaches. Was Mrs Weasley's words enough to rule out his brother or sister? It was still too early to say. Them, or anyone behind this mischief could very well have disposed of his wand Merlin knows where, to avoid any suspicion. His throat tightened in anger. But just as he was about to thank her and turn around, he noticed something was off. Mrs. Weasley seemed distressed on an unusual level. There was an emotion in her voice, though he couldn't tell if it was anger or grief. Was his wand’s vanishing affecting her that badly?

- “Is.. everything all right?” he ventured.

Mrs. Weasley sighed, her hands clasped on the edge of her desk and her head bowed low above it. 

- “Please forgive me. These are strange times and... I am sorry to inform you that my energy must now be devoted to more urgent matters than your wand, Mr Gaunt. As troubling as its disappearance may be…”

Sensing such defeat coming off Mrs. Weasley, who was usually as strong as iron, felt so strange. Ominis shivered. If it wasn't for his wand’s disappearance, then... 

- “A student... another student has disappeared... isn’t it?” he suddenly said, stunned.

His instincts had not deceived him. He heard the woman sigh, with an ounce of admiration.

- “You are perceptive, young Gaunt.”

- “Who? Who is it this time?” Ominis hastened to ask.

Mrs. Weasley hesitated but quickly capitulated. This kind of information isn't meant to remain confidential for long.

- “Grace Pinch-Smedley, from your house. She did not return to her dormitory last night.”

Ominis recognised the name immediately. Even though they had barely exchanged words since the start of the year, Ominis knew that Imelda, the Slytherin admirer, was very close to this girl.

- “I would be grateful if you could keep this information to yourself for now, Mr Gaunt, just as I have requested of the students of said dormitory. For the moment. I would prefer to share the news in the proper manner. There is enough agitation as it is…”

Mrs Weasley was trying to remain calm, but Ominis read through her. She sounded distraught, and it pained him to assess it. 

- “We could help you look for her. It may just be a false alarm, like the time with Duncan and the Puffskeins,’ said Ominis, trying to be optimistic. With my friends, we can…”

- “Mr Gaunt, interrupted the woman, back in her usual composure. I appreciate greatly. However, I think you have more pressing and personal matters to attend to.”

Ominis pursed his lips, finding nothing to say back. 

- “But you seem to handle Revelio quite well. And for that, I congratulate you, she said, a smile on her lips. If it is enough for you, then it is for me as well. Now, if you please, I have a lot of work to get back to. Rest assured that as soon as I learn anything about your wand, I will be sure to let you know.”

Ominis nodded without saying a word. The woman returned to her initial agitation, grabbing parchments and other papers before spreading them out on her desk, picking a quill up. Ominis did not linger. He bowed and, muttering yet another Revelio, headed for the door. The twins, joined in the meantime by Poppy, rose from their seats as soon as he emerged from the office.

- “So? How did it go?” Anne asked eagerly.

- “Nothing encouraging, I'm afraid,” Ominis sighed.

He shared what Mrs. Weasley had told him about his wand. How both dormitories and common areas of the castle had been searched, without bearing any results. He didn't know what to make of this first report. Did it prove that his wand was no longer in Hogwarts? It was a far-fetched idea, but one he couldn't get out of his mind. As for the missing girl, he was torn between refraining from mentioning it, out of respect for the deputy headmistress's wishes, and letting his friends, whom he trusted completely, know about it. He won’t have to think about it for long, however, before the truth comes to light on its own.

The small group was descending to the lower floors, headed for their next class when a faint, almost imperceptible sound reached Ominis' ears. Hearing it made him slow the pace, but identifying it had him stopped completely in his tracks.

Someone was sobbing.

The kind of sobs that shake bodies in the struggle to contain them. With Revelio naturally flowing out of his mouth, Ominis set out to follow this sad trail. 

- "Ominis? Where are you going?" he heard Sebastian call to him from afar.

Without showing any reaction, he followed the sound until he reached one of the large windows that adorned the gallery they had just crossed, deserted at this hour of the morning. The long curtains, usually tied on either side of the window’s recess, which contained two opposite stone benches students sometimes liked to occupy, were closed here, hiding the huddled up figure from everyone's view. Well, almost everyone.

Gently, Ominis pulled back the curtain.

- “Are you okay?”

The person on the other side gasped in surprise, lifting their head from between their knees and straightening up from their crouched position. The next second, they jumped to a stand and rushed outside, bumping into the boy on their way out.

- “Wait!” he called. 

The girl did not stop. Still, Ominis managed to cast Revelio just in time to identify the girl as well as notice a newspaper clutched in her right hand.

- “Is it about Grace?” he asked hastily.

At this, the girl, Imelda, froze in her tracks.

- “We can help you look for her, he tried. Maybe it's not…”

- “What do you know?!” she exclaimed, her voice laced with emotion.

- “What's going on?” asked Anne, who had just joined the scene, closely followed by Sebastian and Poppy.

- “Nothing that is of your business!” Imelda snapped angrily with a sharp turn of her head.

Although Imelda and Anne were not at their first quarrel, as rivals since the first day, Anne seemed taken aback. Surely because of the tears running down her opponent's face.

- “It will be everyone's business until this matter is resolved, interjected Ominis. Just as it was for Amit and Cressida.”

- “What? Amit, Cressida? asked Anne, concerned. Don't tell me…”

Ominis nodded, placing a finger on his lips. Well, so much for the discretion promised to Mrs Weasley...

- “There's nothing you, or anyone, can do!” Imelda snapped. “It's too late. Grace will end up cursed, just like the others, all because of my negligence.”

- “Cursed?”

Imelda broke down and began sobbing again.

- “I knew she was spending too much time near that cursed lake! Looking for some artefact her grandfather supposedly lost in its depths.”

- “That's terrible... Poor Grace... said Anne worriedly. Another disappearance, just as Cressida's got back on her feet?” 

- “Don't act like you care, Imelda snapped. I'm sure deep down you're delighted to see me in this state. If only that idiot (she pointed at Ominis) would stop sticking his nose into other’s business.”

- “Don’t you dare attack Ominis, or…” 

- “Hey, girls, there are times to fight and times to work together! Sebastian intervened. Imelda, how about you stop trying to sow discord and join us? We can find Grace, just like we found Amit!”

The young girl said nothing, but her irritated breathing was betraying an inner turmoil. She wiped her nose with a handkerchief and tried to regain her composure.

- “Very well. I suppose a truce is in order, she finally said, as if talking to herself. It seemed that after a moment of weakness, the young girl's disdainful nature resurfaced. Let it be a truce until Grace’s return. After that... (a pause) we'll see.”

The tension eased a little, and the group resumed their walk to the Defence Against the Dark Arts tower, heading for their next class. 

- “I know how you feel, Poppy said timidly to Imelda. I felt the same about Cressida too. I just left her outside for just a few minutes and… you know what happened next.”

Imelda said nothing but showed attention. Then, she asked:

- “Would Cressida mind if I asked her a few questions ? I know Mrs Weasley frowns upon students questioning her or Amit, but I cannot care about it now.”

- “You can ask me directly. I know everything she knows.”

At Imelda’s silence, Poppy continued.

- “All she remembers is waiting outside the North Gate. She wandered off a bit, a bit distracted by a beautiful moth that had caught her eye. Nothing surprising coming from the insect lover that she is. Apparently, it was gorgeous and even landed on her wand. She still regrets not sketching it down.”

Imelda suddenly cleared her throat, thinking the young girl was starting to get carried away.

- “And then?” she asked, eager to bring the girl back on the right track.

- “That's basically it.”

- “Is it now? In short, nothing of importance for the investigation,” she concluded with a hint of haughtiness.

- “Excuse me?” replied Poppy, a bit offended.

- “Well, for my part, I found something much more substantial, if not reliable, than a mere butterfly hunt. These rumours of a curse seemed ridiculous to me, at first, but to my astonishment, it turns out that they are far from unfounded. See for yourself.”

She unfolded the newspaper she had been holding all this time. The publication date was seven years in the past, and on the cover, in capital letters, was written “The Cursed Shores of Lake Awe.”

 

 

 

The following afternoon, the three friends were spending all their free time in the library. The place had suddenly become the center of their attention. Imelda's find of the newspaper had reminded them that there were more than learning manuals, grimoires and books about magic to be found in the library’s towering shelves. Some sections were entirely dedicated to archives, where anyone can search for past exam copies and, more interestingly, old newspaper editions of all kinds. This was a wonderful opportunity for the twins, as it was another source of information about the Curse of the Lake affair, for everything they had ever learned about it had come from their uncle. Trying to better understand both old and current cases, they devoted all their time and energy to leafing through the newspapers, in search of the slightest clue that might corroborate the few theories they had formulated, or link the two mysteries together. For the moment, nothing really differed from what they already knew from their guardian. But the few articles gleaned here and there showed a tendency towards superstition, the word ‘curse’ appearing numerous times, never missing to provoke Anne's indignation.

Over a day had passed since Ominis' visit to Mrs. Weasley's office. Since then, the deputy, in light of Grace’s continued absence, had broken the silence about her disappearance to all the students, announcing the news in each classroom individually rather than in one go in the Great Hall, preferring to spread the information and urge caution gradually. Nevertheless, Hogwarts found itself taken over by incomprehension and worry once again, a heavy feeling settling as if everyone were holding their breath.

In this particular atmosphere, Anne and Ominis were both seated at a table, on the upper floor of the library, the gallery of which framed the lower level. Both worked in silence, switching between homework and research. His replacement wand pointed down at an old newspaper, Ominis continued to look for clues. How he dreamed of a spell that could find a word on demand. His investigations would be far less tedious and he wouldn’t just be feeling his way around whole paragraphs, most of the time in vain. He wondered if Anne, with her vision, was doing better than him. On the other hand, Sebastian, who always liked to be holed up in the library, was not there to help them. He had another mission: follow along the lake’s shores, with Imelda and Poppy, in the hope of finding Grace, just like they had found Amit not so long ago. By doing so, they were unofficially lending a hand to the few teachers already mobilised for the same purpose. Ominis wondered if, at that very moment, fate had led them to Grace, or if Grace had been led to them. He wanted to believe in this scenario as much as possible. But to wish a similar turn of events as Amit, to be in the right place at the right time, remained, in his opinion, highly optimistic. It was true that the missing persons had the tendency of reappearing on the Black Lake’s shores. Thus, he wondered whether the lake could be explored, or at least searched. However, Mr Phineas Black, the Headmaster, didn’t seem really keen on considering such measures. In his views, they were disproportionate. No wonder Hogwarts' lack of response to these strange events. It was undoubtedly the reflection of the man's troubling indifference. After this third disappearance, wouldn't it be wise to impose a curfew? Did the man really wanted to wait for the complete disappearance of a student to finally get things moving? Watching the shores meant restricting measures, only to deal with the consequences rather than what might be the source of the problem, the lake itself. Its mysterious fauna, its kelp forests, its sunken ruins, the inhabitants of its depths. Did they have a role to play in this strange affair? Ominis thought so. The mermaid had confirmed it. But how could he prove such a point?

A sudden coughing fit on his right brought Ominis back to his task, in the form of the newspaper spread out before him. Its mouldy smell came back in full swing in his nostrils, or rather, had never left, only overlooked by his overthinking brain. Indeed, after losing his wand, his senses had regained their initial, if not above average capacity, a feat many times observed to impaired individuals. You’d be right to think the irony made him boil with rage. His hearing, in particular, was back sharper than ever. His ears have become almost as indispensable as they had been from a time when hearing, smelling and touching were his only guides. Hence, now, why his attention was drawn to every sound that would slightly stand out from the unintelligible whispers and vague noises around him. May it be Mrs. Scribe's heels. Or the sliding of someone’s fingers across a page, or even Anne's breath next to him. He could hear so much clearly. Nothing escaped him, not even the landing, between two scratches of his friend’s quill, of an insect (far quieter and bigger than a fly, a butterfly perhaps?) next to her, who just let out a small surprised ‘oh’ upon seeing it. It made Ominis smile.

And just as he was about to return to his work, a sound, the kind of which he had never heard before, made itself known. A voice, or rather a whisper, fleeting, muffled, distant, barely intelligible, reached him as if resorbed, in the same way guest’s voices would filter through Gaunt Manor’s walls, from the ground floor up to the room he was always asked to occupy. He might have mistaken that sound for a draught sounding eerily human-like, had it not been for the whispered word.

Immmpeeeeerioooo.

His eyes widened. He was immediately overcome by a strange dizziness and a sudden want to leave, without even knowing where to go. He shook his head, and that proved to be enough to dispel that strange urge. In front of him, he heard Anne calmly close her book and stand up, as if nothing had happened. Around him, no one else seemed to notice either. He concentrated, listened carefully, but could hear nothing unusual. The voice was no longer audible. He shook his head a second time. Did he just dream it up? He was certain to have recognized the spell. That had been, without a doubt, Imperio. Did he just hear the spell of control, one of the three forbidden spells, in the middle of Hogwarts library? There was no way. All these stories of disappearances, forbidden spells and paranoia were starting to drive him mad. And if his mind was starting to play tricks on him, it was more than time to get some fresh air.

He and Anne had been there for hours now. Under his fingers, he felt that only a few pages of the journal were left unread. He closed it and placed it on a book pile nearby, freeing himself from its musty smell as well as from the laborious use of Liber lectio. The spell was so different to use now, in comparison with his real wand. Even though the words were relayed directly into his head, he had to make an extra effort to decipher them, a bit like when you have to strain your ears to understand someone, even though they’re just in front of you. He stretched out in his chair and cast Revelio just in time to see Anne turning a corner, no doubt looking for another piece of newspaper. He waited for her to return, eager to suggest going to the crypt to wait for their friends who may be, he hoped, bearers of good news.

Ominis waited. Five minutes. Ten. Then twenty. He started to fidget on his chair. Anne's belongings were still there in front of him. So was her wand. But the girl herself did not return. Ominis gathered his things, stood up, and went to look for his friend among the labyrinth of shelves. But after walking around the galleries twice, both on the ground floor and upstairs, he grew suddenly alarmed. He began to question the students who crossed his path before finally hurrying to Mrs. Scribe, desperate, hoping that the woman, with the attentiveness of her own, had seen his friend.

- "Miss Sallow? she said. I did see her. She left the library, but it was at least half an hour ago."

Terror seized Ominis. Why? Why leave without saying a word? His blood ran cold in his veins. He rushed towards the exit as he had never rushed before, regardless of the head librarian protests or the few table corners or students' shoulders that stood in his way. Suddenly, the last moments he had spent with Anne flashed through his mind. The insect, no, the butterfly, suddenly echoed Cressida's disappearance like a hit right in his face. And that strange voice. Now he swore it had been familiar to him. And for good reason, he would realise much later that it belonged to none other than Theresia.

 

 

 

Notes:

Imelda Reyes- 1886

Imelda is a first-year Slytherin girl. Stoic and dry-witted, she is a hard worker, always striving for success. Full of ambition, one of the leading values of her house, she is a fervent admirer of its founder, the wizard Salazar Slytherin, of whom Ominis is a descendant. But behind her cold exterior lies a sharp mind and a sensitivity that her education forces her to repress.