The Serpents Hold

by Wedonthaveawhile

Summary:

Sebastian Sallow is walking a dangerous path in his efforts to cure his twin. To their mutual distain, Ominis and Nova are reluctantly thrust into a partnership to aid him. Amidst this tense alliance, and the disapproval of Ominis' estranged family, Nova wrestles with her growing feelings for him—and with her growing suspicion that he knows more about Anne's curse than he's letting on.

A reimagining of the 'In the Shadow of' storyline with a centric focus on Ominis and The Gaunt's

Notes:

I had hoped Hogwarts Legacy would delve into Ominis Gaunt's character and his family dynamic more, so this is my way of coping—while the plot starts with Sebastian Sallow's storyline, it will diverge from canon to focus Ominis and the Gaunt family.

Original character is based on my playable Hogwarts Legacy MC, but feel free to read her as your MC or (Y/N).

Chapter 1: Prologue

 

 

 

 

We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.

 

Nova had read the letter close to a hundred times, though she felt no more prepared now than she did the first time.

 

Kings Cross Station, Downtown London, platform 9 ¾.

 

The witch furrowed her brow, running a finger along the creases of her uncle's map she'd unearthed from the recesses of his bureau.

A fingernail sliced through the paper as the sharp crack of his apparition made her jump out of her skin.

"When do you leave my premises?"

Nova casually propped an elbow on the map to conceal the chasm she'd ripped straight through Covent Garden.

"Tomorrow."

"Oh, splendid news!" The robust wizard flopped into his office chair, spinning around with a flair and sending dust swirling around his cluttered office. "You have quite the talent for overstaying your welcome."

"I've been here three days."

"I know what I said."

With a snap of his fingers, he conjured a brass flask and downed a swig. Nova recoiled as the liquid cascaded from the edge of his overflowing mouth and leaked into his greying beard, which was already gummed with unsightly additions.

"If you felt this way, why'd you even agree to take me on?"

"If I had known it was you from the start, I likely wouldn't have."

The witch yanked a letter sitting hallway down his disorderly stack of paperwork, deliberately triggering a landslide of documents that fluttered across his desk.

She unfurled the parchment and began to read, "Dear Mr Ralph Jones, I regret to inform you of the unfortunate decline in the health of your brother-in-law, Archibald Fenwick. As the next of kin to his daughter, Miss Nova Fenwick, we hereby request-"

"Bahhh," Ralph flailed his arm in her general direction as if swatting a pestering fly. "You expect me to recall which one you are by name? Could have been any of my nieces."

"You have two."

"Yeah, too many."

"The other one is four years old."

"I wasn't aware there was an age limit to having your father committed."

Nova released a defeated huff. It was a low blow, but he had a point.

 

Please find enclosed a list of all necessary books and equipment.

 

"Do you have any of this stuff from when you were at Hogwarts?" She asked, turning to pass him the list, but he had already bolted out the door.

 

Nova's bloodshot eyes clung to the festering black mould lurking in the corner of the ceiling. Sleep eluded her as she contorted on the couch to avoid the mystery stain sullying the fabric. A foot away, Ralph's chair groaned beneath his weight as he hammered away at his typewriter, burying any hope for a peaceful night with an onslaught of unnecessary work.

With a resigned groan, she dragged herself out of the pitiful excuse for a bed, threw on her robes, and stormed out of the front door with her trunk in tow.

 

As Nova staggered through the smoggy backstreets of London, she had regrets.

The sturdy leather suitcase awkwardly trailed behind, inflicting painful blows to the back of her heels as if punishing her decision to forgo the promised morning lift. Refusing to humble herself and turn back, she pressed forward, guided by her uncle's stolen map, until she eventually reached Kings Cross station.

With a minor limp, Nova aimlessly roamed the heaving train station, trying to decipher the route to platform nine and three-quarters.

"You sit on the tracks and patiently wait for the train to arrive."

She doubted her uncle's directions.

Instead, she snaked through the crowd, honing in on a family engaging in a heated discussion about their disdain for Muggle-borns. After enduring Ralph's onslaught of slurs for the past three days, the topic struck a nerve but left no room for interpretation — they were en route to Hogwarts. Unbeknownst to the throng of purebloods, they directed Nova toward the bricked-up wall dividing platforms nine and ten.

I should have figured that one out.

Ravenclaw material, I am not.

She imitated the actions of her guides and sprinted directly towards the solid wall. It gave way and evaporated to reveal the dormant Hogwarts Express. In the quiet early hours, the platform lacked the frenzied chaos she had expected, so she limped wearily to the train's rear and boarded the last carriage.

Sleep was continuously interrupted as the platform steadily increased in volume. Weeping first years, boisterous teenagers, and fretful parents yelling lists of forgotten belongings thwarted any chance at rest. 

Perhaps the mayhem subsided after the train departed, or it could be that her exhaustion mercifully took her. In any case, she found sleep, and the rhythmic motion of the train gently cradled her through the entire nine-hour journey.

 

Like a ruptured dam, students burst forth from every carriage door. They flooded Hogwarts Station, hauling Nova along in the forceful current. Still groggy from her nocturnal habits, she squinted through the crowd, fending off rogue bags and errant elbows while trying to make sense of her surroundings.

The Hogwarts caretaker staggered across the platform, slurring his words and rounding up the younger students like the pied piper, readying them for the trek down to the boats. Nova's anxiety rocketed as she wrestled with the decision to stand out like a giant among the newcomers or attempt to blend in with the students her age. Her limited research told her that students wearing yellow would be the most helpful, but all she could see were blurred swarms of green and red.

"Miss Fenwick, I presume?" A professor's hand gently rested on her shoulder, prompting an audible sigh of relief as tension melted away.

"Yes, sir."

"I'm Professor Fig. I'd like to extend the warmest welcome to Hogwarts."

"Thank you…" She glanced around at the mob of students, "How did you know who I was?"

"Not many older students avoid proudly displaying their house colours. Come, we've got a sorting ceremony to attend."

 

Nova trailed behind Professor Fig as he led the procession into the Great Hall.

Her eyes roamed over the tapestries fluttering from the lofty beams, deducing which one she found most appealing. Mutters of confusion drifted from the long tables regarding the new student towering head and shoulders above the cluster of eleven-year-olds.

Someone was droning on, explaining the mechanics of the sorting hat. It wasn't until the Professor called her name that Nova jolted back to reality.

She felt the collective stare of hundreds of students boring into her back as she dragged her feet toward the wooden stool.

The crotchety hat shifted and wriggled as it was lowered on her head, tatty threads nipping at her hairline.

"Ahh, a little older than I'm used to…"

It was infuriating, the way it jerked around and mercilessly tickled her scalp. She felt an impulse to delve her fingers in and scratch at the persistent itch but was uncertain if that would considered be rude.

"You come with preferences and expectations," it continued, its movements intensifying tenfold, leaving Nova with an uneasy sense it could somehow monitor her thoughts. "I observed your particular interest in the Hufflepuff flag. Care to share why?"

Nova's mind blanked as she fought to devise a noteworthy response.

Don't say something stupid.

"I like badgers."

Fuck.

An eager whoop erupted from the Hufflepuff table, and Nova opted to believe that the laughter was directed at the enthusiastic Hufflepuff rather than her response.

"I'm afraid that's not a compelling enough reason," the hat chided. "I detect something in you—a sense of ambition and resourcefulness. I'm confident you'll employ both to great lengths this year, so I believe Slytherin is the house where you truly belong!"

The Great Hall exploded in deafening applause from the table adorned in emerald flags. Nova slid off the stool once Professor Weasley retrieved the hat and walked over to join her new housemates.

With the final students settling into their seats at one of the four house tables, the headmaster signalled the start of the feast.

 

The Slytherins had already formed into their respective cliques, but with Nova's stomach protesting loudly from nearly twenty-four hours without a meal, she paid little attention to the social circles.

She hadn't even registered her eyes were closed in bliss as she savoured a few hearty bites of a chicken wing. Only when the desire for a second one hit did she reluctantly open them to locate it and instead lock onto a pair of big brown eyes a few seats away.

The student beamed at her and offered a friendly wave, to which Nova responded with a shy smile. Leaning toward a friend, the student whispered something that provoked either laughter or gasps from his blonde companion, resulting in a spray of crumbs across his pumpkin pie. Nova lowered her head, suddenly feeling very self-conscious.

Students who had indulged in more substantial meals earlier in the day began to filter out of the hall not long after the feast had begun. Meanwhile, Nova savoured the feast like her next meal would never come. She blinked in surprise when the brown-eyed boy smoothly moved up the bench to occupy the now-vacant space opposite her.

"Quite the appetite you've got there," he said as Nova navigated her third chicken, a fleeting concern crossing his freckled features when she nearly choked.

"Is that why you were laughing?" Her words slipped out with a sharper edge than she had intended.

Thankfully, he took it in good humour, "No, no. That was... something entirely different… I'm Sebastian," he gracefully steered away from the subject and extended a hand across the table.

Nova reached out to shake it, but her attention was caught by the encroaching shadow of a professor.

"Don't even think about recruiting our new student into your little circus, Sallow."

"Circus? Absolutely not, Sharp. Over the holidays, I've undergone a complete metamorphosis."

"Professor Sharp. And we'll see, although with your ringleader knocked down, maybe you'll surprise us all and actually adhere to the school rules."

Sebastian's eyes darkened, prompting Nova to stand and offer a handshake to the head of the house to break the tension.

"I've arranged for Professor Rowan to guide the first-year student's introduction to Hogwarts," he informed her. "Considering your circumstances, I thought you deserved a private tour. Navigating the castle without a troupe of bewildered peers might be challenging."

"Oh, sir, you should have enlisted your favourite student for the job," Sebastian interjected, snagging the last of the cookies from under the grasping fingers of a nearby student. "My tour guide skills are legendary."

"In your dreams, Sallow. I won't risk you filling Miss Fenwick's head with your interpretation of the school rules."

Nova glanced regretfully at her unfinished meal and half-heartedly waved at Sebastian as she scurried after Professor Sharp.

 

He led an exceptionally detailed tour of the castle, concluding in the corridor that housed the Slytherin dormitories.

The walls were adorned with ornate arched doors, each embellished with delicate stained-glass panes casting a kaleidoscope of colours on the stone floor. Professor Sharp paused outside one of them and gestured for Nova to open it.

She entered the bedroom and discovered her luggage artfully arranged by the door. The subdued flicker of sconces illuminated three carved beds, each draped in green and silver fabrics with serpentine motifs.

"The standard is four students to a dorm, but lucky for you, it just so happened we were low in numbers," Professor Sharp noted. With a flick of his wand, an extra bed sprouted from the ground, prompting the existing three to screech across the floorboards as they rearranged themselves to accommodate the new addition.

Nova wondered about her roommates reaction to losing a sizable chunk of their living space to her, but Sharp whispered another incantation, and the stone walls began quivering in response.

The chiselled bricks wrenched apart and dragged forth more to fill the voids left behind. The room extended by a quarter of the size, carving out a new alcove for Nova's bed.

"That should suffice," Professor Sharp lowered his wand to admire his handiwork. "If there's nothing else, I'll leave you to settle in and unpack. Professor Weasley will arrange for a student to assist you in acquiring essentials from Hogsmeade in the morning."

 

Perching on the rigid mattress, Nova sifted through the meagre contents of her trunk: A collection of mismatched garments, a handful of treasured photographs and a stuffed badger from her dad she'd managed to snatch before they were evicted from their home by the Ministry.

She shoved him back into her case as the dormitory door creaked open, and three girls barged in. Nova caught only one word before they saw her and fell into an uneasy silence.

Mudblood.

Nova swung her legs off the bed to stand up and greet her roommates, only to watch them traipse past her without acknowledgement.

"Hi, I'm your new roommate. I was at the..." she gestured vaguely in the direction of the Great Hall.

"The badger girl," one of them said, accompanied by a mocking snicker.

"Sure, the mudblood with a penchant for badgers." Nova said, wincing at the simmering hostility. "Is there anything else you know about me?"

"We know about your muggle-fucker mummy and the daddy locked up in an asylum," declared the undeniable the ringleader. Her words provoked forced chuckles from her two lackeys. "And that your father was what, a builder?" Their boisterous jeers echoed off the stone walls, cackling as though the profession was utterly preposterous.

"My father's an architect, not a builder. Architects design—" Nova's attempt to correct them was silenced as the velvet curtains on all four sides of her bed snapped shut. Her hair fluttered at the sudden gust while her roommates erupted into even louder fits of hateful ridicule on the other side.

With humiliation clouding her mind and a ribcage splintering with each enraged breath, Nova mentally compiled an arsenal of offensive spells, her fingers itching to unleash a retaliation.

Count to ten, and don't go apeshit.

Her father's advice echoed in her mind, a mantra she begrudgingly repeated until she felt a fraction calmer.

After sleeping all day, bed was the last place she wanted to be, but she refused to emerge after that humiliating display. Nova spent the first night in her new home staring absently at the patterns of the serpentine curtains, the cold castle stone pressed against her back, wondering how much simpler life might have been if she had been born a Muggle.

 

 

 

 

Cover art by libbycantdraww

Chapter 2

The lack of natural light in the Slytherin dormitory made it difficult to determine when daylight broke.

Nova had devoted the night to eavesdropping from behind closed curtains. Her roommates appeared to be quite the socialites, exchanging juicy tales of exclusive soirées they'd attended alongside other high-society purebloods. The conversation naturally took a nosedive into muggle slander and how mudbloods were being strategically placed in Slytherin to curb its intolerant reputation, turning Nova's eavesdropping into more of a passive-aggressive harassment experience.

As the early hours settled in, their whining steadily became gentle snores. Feeling the pull of curiosity, Nova decided it was time to satisfy it with some exploration. She closed the door, perhaps with more force than necessary, as she left the dorm and stepped into the Slytherin common room.

The ornate clock on the mantelpiece was barely chiming seven o'clock but the room was teeming with life. Most notably due to the first years, their foreheads pushed against the windows. Wide-eyed and captivated by the inky depths of the black lake and erupting into chaos as their excitement peaked over an elusive shadow.

"Behind that rock, right there! I'm telling you, I saw it—I saw its hair!" one of them exclaimed, repeatedly jabbing a finger against the thick glass.

"That's just your reflection."

"No, no, it was green!"

"Yeah, just like your scarf."

Their laughter echoed around the alcove until another detected a hint of movement, triggering a frenzied scramble as they competed to catch a glimpse.

Nova rose onto her tiptoes to peer over the cluster of heads but a stifled snigger caught her attention. She recognised the culprit – she was pretty sure he'd been the one laughing at Sebastian during the welcome feast.

"Are there really mermaids in the lake?" she asked as she approached him, her confidence waning as the new arrivals lost their minds over a scrap of pondweed.

"Apparently, although I've never heard of them venturing anywhere near our window," he replied, pushing off the decorative fireplace to turn to face her, "But that's not what we tell first years."

She chuckled sheepishly, "I must admit, they had me going for a moment."

The student scoffed, though it wasn't unkind. His smile softened the sharp edges of his features. The flickering embers of the fireplace lit his eyes, a striking shade of blue and notably devoid of pupils.

Blind?

"Judging by the chatter when you entered the common room, I presume you're the new student?"

Blind.

"I'm Ominis Gaunt," he declared, extending his hand. Unlike Sebastian's handshake, Ominis had a firm grip. His refined voice hinted at a sophistication that surpassed that of his more laid-back friend. "How was your first night as a Slytherin?"

Nova's face twisted into a grimace, "It wasn't the warmest welcome I've had. I think some students are a little offended..." She faltered, her recent experiences causing her to think twice about revealing her half-blood status.

"Offended...?"

"I… overheard that Salazar Slytherin was very passionate about pure-blood lineage, and half-bloods don't belong here." Nova gnawed at the inside of her lip as she assessed his reaction, his stoic features revealing nothing but a tightened muscle along his jawline.

"Pay them no mind. Most students in this house have a trace of Muggle ancestry somewhere in their lineage, just far back enough for them to conveniently forget it's there," Ominis reassured her.

"Really?" She muttered, unconvinced. Though his tone did seem to carry a genuine understanding. "What about you? Are you half-blood?"

A snort erupted from behind them as a witch leaned back in her chair, taking a break from an intense game of wizard's chess to chime in. "Look, if you're talking about your roommates, fuck them. Alice Flint acts like it's her divine duty to crap on muggle heritage just because she's sacred twenty-eight." The Scottish student added a sneer for emphasis.

"Sacred twenty-eight?" Nova repeated. Although, even without elaboration, it seemed fitting that someone like Alice would label themselves sacred.

"The twenty-eight British families that are truly pure blood, just a club for arrogant snobs if you ask me."

"I see; aside from Alice and her crew, are there any others I should avoid?"

The girl snorted again, jutting her chin toward Ominis, "Well, there are the Gaunt's, for a start," she stated, evidently not caring he was within earshot. "There's the Weasley's—the transfiguration professor and her nephew, but they're alright. As for ones to avoid, the Flint's are nieces of Black, who has a pair of pure-blood spawn himself—"

"Professor Black?" Nova interjected, piecing together the events of the previous evening. "Alice seemed to know a lot about me – could that be the how?"

"Most likely. Sharp was nervous about placing you with them. He did approach some of us to see if we'd be willing to switch with you, but I declined. Rather you than me, I'm afraid."

"I respect the honesty."

"Throw some bubotuber pus in their bedsheets or something, make them regret messing with you. They'll back off when they see you're not a pushover," she suggested before her attention was torn away by the smash of her bishop getting obliterated by her opponent.

"Do be careful following Imelda's advice," Ominis warned, folding his arms across his chest. "It might be tempting to retaliate, but I'm afraid their bite can be far more damaging than their bark."

"Jeez, what kind of place is this?"

"Welcome to Hogwarts."

Ominis seemed to have no qualms about being labelled an arrogant snob, suggesting such judgments were common—it was an ill-fitting label, to say the least. He was one of the more agreeable Slytherins Nova had met so far, and judging him solely based on his blood status would make her a massive hypocrite.

"So what about you? Were you expecting Slytherin on your first day here?"

"Certainly. My father's lineage traces directly back to Salazar Slytherin." Ominis ran a hand through his hair before adding, "Although I can't say I'm particularly proud of it. Salazar Slytherin was a pure-blood fanatic, and many of his descendants don't stray far from that tree, I'm afraid."

"Ah, my new charge!"

Sebastian careened wildly across the room, one hand adjusting his tie while the other tugged his robes over his shoulders. His brunette waves were defying gravity, hinting he had just rolled out of bed.

"I've been informed you're in dire need of some supplies. Professor Weasley asked that I accompany you to Hogsmeade."

"Stop trying to abduct her, Sebastian. As if Weasley would ever assign you to the task." Ominis scoffed, his sightless gaze piercing through his friend's dubious intentions.

"It's true! Well, I may have posed the question, but either way, she gave the nod. Said I was a capable young wizard and that Nova and I would have much in common." Sebastian explained, making a valiant attempt to tame his wild hair.

"One step closer to roping me into this circus," Nova smiled, gesturing toward the crown of her head. Sebastian mirrored the action, patting down his cowlick.

"Oh yeah, can you believe Sharp called us a circus, Ominis? He had the audacity to label Anne as our ringleader."

"Anne is our ringleader," Ominis remarked dryly, "and you, our chief clown."

"What does that make you?" Nova asked.

"Snake charmer," Sebastian quipped in before his friend could respond. A glance at the clock helped him sidestep the death glare he was receiving. "I've never ventured into the village this early, but since we're both up, what do you say?"

"I'm ready if you are."

"Wonderful! I'll take over the welcoming committee from here, Ominis."

The blind wizard nodded, withdrawing his wand. It's intermittent red flashes marked his path as he began walking back to his dorm. "Don't make her late for class on her first day, Sebastian."

"Yes, mum."

 

Sebastian steered the pair through the sparsely populated hallways, weaving in insights on which portraits would happily serve as distractions if she were ever breaking curfew and which ones were notorious snitches.

Stepping into the courtyard, Nova's gaze lifted just in time to catch a blurry glimpse of students zooming by on their brooms, laughter resonating through the valley as they raced towards the Quidditch pitch. She closed her eyes, tallying the number of days that had slipped by since she'd last basked in the sun's warmth.

"I'm glad Professor Weasley agreed for me to accompany you today," Sebastian said, stepping onto the fountain to stroll along its shallow wall. "There was a slight chance I could have walked away with detention instead; word has it, the librarian was on the prowl for me again."

"You've only just come back. How are you already on her bad side?" Nova asked, trailing her fingers behind him, absentmindedly picking at patches of moss. "Do you spend a lot of time in detention?"

"Just enough to keep me well-rounded." He told her as they turned out of the courtyard and onto the pathway that hugged the shoreline of the black lake. "It's simply a case of differing opinions. She thinks I shouldn't be allowed in the restricted section... and I happen to disagree."

Nova could still picture Professor Sharp's steely glare as he gestured towards the restricted section on her tour. He made it clear borrowing books was a privilege reserved solely for seventh-year students, and even then, it was a rare occurrence.

"Can't you convince one of the older students to help?"

"No chance of that," Sebastian shot back, the resentful edge in his tone suggesting he had already tried and failed miserably at that plan. Shooting Nova a sidelong glance, he added, "I like your gusto to jump on board, though. I reckon I've found a kindred spirit."

Nova shrugged, "Just curious, but if you stumble upon anything a fellow housemate should know, I'm all ears."

The gusts sweeping in from across the lake lashed at Sebastian's cloak as he shifted into a backward jog, his smile transforming into a blinding grin. "I'm sure I can carve out some time for one-on-one sessions."

"This is the path that leads you back to detention, tutoring unsanctioned classes to the innocent outsider."

"You're no outsider; you're one of us now, and trouble only finds us if we're caught," he winked. "And lucky for you, I know plenty of secret spots in Hogwarts for more... nefarious activities."

"Oh? Any you'd like to share with the class?"

"Maybe one day, I can't go around telling you all my secrets now, can I?"

The village fell into view as they reached the peak of a stone bridge stretching across a shallow stream.

"Sometimes it seems all roads lead to Hogsmeade," Sebastian mused.

Nova wasn't entirely sure what this meant but nodded in agreement nonetheless.

 

Despite their academic shopping list, Sebastian's tour had little to do with anything educational. After indulging in the decadence of Zonko's and Honeydukes, he begrudgingly assisted in gathering the books and ingredients required for Nova's core classes.

 

"So, what's the story," Sebastian asked, dragging his sleeve across the creamy foam clinging to his upper lip. Having plenty of time to spare, he'd concluded the tour with breakfast at the Three Broomsticks. "What's brought you to Hogwarts?"

"Traveled a lot for my father's job, did a stint at Ilvermorny, then two years at Beauxbatons," Nova shared, breathlessly placing her tankard on the bar after downing most of the frosty butterbeer. "Recently moved in with my uncle in London, so... here I am."

"Ahh, that explains why Weasley was eager to pair us up. I live with my uncle too, although I hope yours is more agreeable than mine."

"Doubt it, he only agreed to let me live there because he thought he was getting paid."

"What happened to your parents?"

Nova glanced down, idly tugging at a loose thread on her jumper, "My mother... she died when I was born. Both my parents were older when they had me, so there were complications…"

Sebastian nodded, "I understand, Anne and I lost both our parents when we were young too."

"Anne's your sister?" Nova seized the chance to steer the conversation away from their parents before he delved into the touchy subject of her father.

"My twin, she's in Slytherin too. She's not doing great right now, but you'll meet her once she's back on her feet."

Nova began salivating as the bartender slid their bowl of fries onto the rustic bar before them.

"I look forward to it. Having a friend in the girls' dorm will be a relief. I think my roommates are a lost cause." Nova sank her teeth into the salty delight, savouring it with a moan. "Do you know Alice Flint?"

"Oh… Oh, you poor soul," Sebastian winced, his chin dropping into his palm, "She wouldn't be my first choice to live with, or, you know... anyone's."

"I spent my first night fighting the urge to set her bed alight."

"You'll be my favourite person if you send someone to the hospital wing in your first week," he gestured with flair to the empty bar stool beside him. "I'll reserve a spot for you in detention."

"Appreciate it."

Sebastian's probing eyes silently roamed across her face, and a slight unease began to crawl under her skin.

"I might have something that could help," he finally professed as he inclined on his forearms, "You need some spells under your belt to put Alice in her place, right? Something not from the school curriculum, so she can't whip out a counterspell."

 "I know plenty of spells. I don't think that's my main concern."

"Alright, like what?"

Nova took a moment to deliberate, her fingernails digging into the craggy exterior of her tankard as her mind went blank. "Well, there's, you know, I could use some silencing charms..."

Sebastian emitted a dissatisfied grunt, "Do you believe that because she can't attack you with words, she won't resort to something worse?"

"The only physical attack they've thrown at me so far is pulling my curtains shut. I don't think offensive spells are necessary."

There was also Ominis; his warning hadn't fallen on deaf ears. She could drown out their bark but didn't want to explore his meaning when he referred to their bite. Changing dormitories was a rare occurrence. Ignoring the trio was the wisest move.

"And if things escalate?" Sebastian persisted.

"I'll deal with it."

He wasn't satisfied with her response, his frustration evident as he ran a hand through his mop of hair with an irate huff.

Ulterior motive might as well have been stamped across his forehead.

"Let me take a wild guess – you know spells that might help?"

"I know of them, not entirely sure how to perform them yet," he admitted, his eyes lighting up at her interest. "Imagine having the power to not only kick Alice out of the room whenever she gets lairy, but the ability march her into the boys' bathroom and shove her head in the bog."

Nova's snort echoed in her mug as she savoured the last drops of her butterbeer, "I've heard of charms that can manipulate movements, but full body control sounds a little far-fetched. Who told you about this?"

"I swear, it's true. I've researched it myself, but the information I need to master the spell is in a book currently residing in..." He drummed his fingers on the edge of the bar while gazing at Nova expectantly.

"The restricted sec-"

"The restricted section," he declared, slapping the bar and earning a few disgruntled stares from neighbouring patrons. "You need that spell, and I need an accomplice to get me in and out. We're a match made in heaven, Nova Fenwick."

"Sebastian..." Nova squirmed, her fingers tracing through condensation as the enthusiasm drained from his eyes. "It's my first day here, I should probably hold off on the rule-breaking for the time being, don't you?"

Her rejection didn't deter him.

"I give you three days in that dorm before you change your mind."

Nova wondered if this had always been his plan: latch onto the newcomer, capitalise on her lack of friends, and indoctrinate her into his interpretation of the school rules, as Sharp had phrased it. However, she wasn't in a position to reject a friend and couldn't deny he came off as a rather entertaining partner in crime.

"You're on."

 

Nova was escorted to beast class half an hour ahead of schedule, with just one student arriving before her. Poppy took advantage of the early arrival, delivering an extensive rundown of all the kneazles before the rest of the students gradually trickled in.

"Ellie, here is my favourite," Poppy giggled, her fingers scratching the beast's chin while it playfully nipped at her fingertips. "And you must meet the puffskeins! Professor, will we have the puffskeins out in class today?"

"You'll discover soon enough, Miss Sweeting," Professor Howin replied with an undertone of exasperation. "Could you please assist our new student during today's lesson?"

Poppy pounced on the opportunity. As fate would have it, Poppy was enrolled in most of Nova's classes and welcomed the role of an honorary chaperone. In return, Nova took on a protective role, shooting fierce glares at anyone bold enough to utter the words  peculiar Poppy.

 

Sebastian lost their bet.

Her third day at Hogwarts came and went, and she quickly settled into a comfortable routine, spending the days with Poppy and evenings in the Slytherin common room. Occasionally, she studied with Sebastian or lost a game of chess to Imelda, but frequently, she was on her own.

When the first years admitted defeat in their pursuit to spot mermaids, the alcove windows transformed into a delightfully quiet reading retreat.

A yawn slipped out as Nova folded the corner of her page before shutting the novel. With a palm pressed against the glass pane, she hoisted herself up from the ground.

She headed toward the girls' dorms, noticing Sebastian and Ominis falling about laughing by the fireplace. While she considered joining them, another yawn caught her off guard, reaffirming that bedtime was likely the wiser choice.

 

Luck was on her side as her room turned out to be vacant. Nova placed her books on the bedside table before pulling her trunk out from under the bed to retrieve fresh nightwear.

The door crashed into the opposing wall as the girls strode in. Alice's eyes immediately landed on Nova's open trunk, her lips twitching into a smirk. "Who's this?"

Nova followed her gaze.

Shit.

Her stuffed badger lay nestled within the bundle of clothing— a comfort she only brought out at night when the curtains were securely closed. She attempted to slam the trunk shut but was too slow.

"Accio."

Alice summoned the toy and held it aloft, "He needs a bath before bed. I'll show him the way to the toilets," She threw her head back, laughter resonating through the corridor as she darted out the door. The other two in hot pursuit.

Tears of frustration scratched at Nova's eyes as she hurtled down the corridor after them, humiliation burning in her chest. Their chase wove through the common room, where Sebastian rose from the sofa and touched Ominis' arm at the sound of the altercation.

"Give him back!"

Alice howled at the use of the word,  him  as they shot up the spiral staircase. Nova was a few strides from the bottom when Sebastian seized the hood of her cloak and yanked her back, the collision knocking both of them to their feet.

"Glisseo," Ominis calmy spoke the incantation and thrust the tip of his wand toward the stairs. The thunderous crack of each step slamming into an inclination echoed down the staircase.

Triumphant cheers morphed into panicked screams as the trio careened down the slide, crashing into the stone walls at every turn. A shoe tumbled past Nova before her roommates collapsed in a wailing heap at her feet.

Sebastian snatched the badger from Alice while simultaneously hauling Nova off the floor and dragging her toward his dorm.

 

Collapsing onto the boys' dormitory floor, the three of them erupted into hysterical laughter. Sebastian victoriously hoisted the badger into the air, dodging Nova's futile attempt to snatch it back.

"Wait a minute, I want to see what all the fuss is about," he subjected the tatty stuffed toy to scrutiny, his fingers tracing along the balding patches of fur. "Does he have a name?"

"No, he's just badger."

Sebastian tugged at the loose threads where the eyes used to be. "Nah, it's Ominis."

Nova laughed, "Seems fitting, he saved him."

"I also ensured you'll be executed if you ever go back to your dorm," Ominis hauled himself upright to lean against the bedpost. "I'm sorry, we can accompany you as witnesses if you choose to ask Sharp for a transfer."

"No need to apologise, I'll die happy having witnessed that." Shifting onto her elbow, she turned to Sebastian, "In case the transfer falls through, do you still need an accomplice?"

Sebastian shot a startled glance toward Ominis, his finger moving to his lips before mouthing: He can't know.

Chapter 3

Nova gathered the fabric of her sleeve around her frozen fingers to stave off the cold. October nights had descended on the Scottish Highlands, and the warming charms woven into the castle walls were evidently neglected at this late hour.

A puff of mist escaped her lips, dissipating as quickly as it formed, though not without drawing irritated tutting from the portraits gracing the walls.

"Disillusionment charm," a handsome knight sneered, "how infantile."

She assumed herself undetectable to their synthetic eyes, but they stalked her every move. Her paranoid steps accelerated through the darkness until she collided headlong with an invisible barrier.

"If you do that one more fucking time…," she hissed, shoving the obstruction aside as she navigated around it.

An ornamental table creaked beneath Sebastian's weight as he steadied himself, giggling. "Your vulgar language is going to get us caught."

The crack of a door colliding with a wall as it flung open had panic shooting up Nova's spine. The oblivious Gryffindor prefect crossed the hallway infront of them and slipped into an adjacent corridor.

Nova released her breath via a relieved sigh, while Sebastian's was a scoff.

"Prick. Let's get moving."

Nova's rage towards her dormmates' actions had subsided into more of a simmering frustration in the recesses of her mind. It had been replaced by a mounting fear as she moved towards violating one of Hogwarts' most fundamental rules.

"Sebastian, maybe this isn't the best idea. I don't think getting myself expelled is the revenge I'm aiming for.

"I've been caught several times, and I'm still here; you'll be fine."

"I don't think I want to escalate things any further."

"Ominis isn't always going to be around to save the day. You need to protect yourself."

Sebastian's steps began to fade as he marched ahead to cut off the conversation. Nova had pieced together enough context clues to label him a troublemaker. Still, his relentless pursuit of this book started churning up a growing sense of unease.

"Why are you so insistent on this? Why do you need this spell," she asked, hastening her pace to match his.

"I don't need it. The spell is for your benefit. It's just connected to the magic I'm searching for."

"Well, what are you searching for?"

His heavy exhalation scattered into the air. "I need to find something to help my sister. Her illness is more than just a bout of sickness, and everyone else has given up."

"Have you taken her to St Mungo's?"

"She was admitted to the fourth floor for a time, but they discharged her when they couldn't identify the curse."

"Curse?" She peered over the railings to ensure the hall below them was devoid of wandering faculty, "Who would curse a student?"

"We don't know. Someone was practising magic in the castle ruins near Feldcroft, and Anne wandered too close. She had a thing for sneaking out at night; she loved exploring." His voice dropped to a whisper as they began to descend the staircase. "All she remembers is hearing someone tell her children should be seen and not heard, and then she passed out. I found her the next morning."

Nova felt a flicker of solidarity. His activities may be dubious, but his intentions were pure. If there were a cure stashed away in the restricted section to save her father, she'd storm in without hesitation.

"Talk me through the plan," Sebastian's voice cut through her tangled thoughts, "It might help settle your nerves."

"We camp out in the library until Scribner conjures her keys." She began, "You make some Sebastian noises; draw her away."

"Correct. I'm excellent at those."

"I'll use her keys to open the desk drawer, grab the restricted section key, and unlock the gate—"

"Wrong." Sebastian interrupted, "Don't forget to lock the draw behind you."

"I won't forget to lock the drawer behind me," she shot back, casting an agitated glance toward where she assumed his face was.

"You just did. Walk me through the plan again. Properly."

Nova recited the plan another four times before they reached the library's entrance, deliberately omitting a crucial step each time to irritate him. It took him until the third recital to realise it was intentional.

 

Sebastian played Scribner like a fiddle, his flawless execution leading Nova to the threshold of the restricted section. She traced a finger through the thick dust coating the bannister. Apparently, not even the house elves were permitted down here. She stilled near the black abyss at the stairwell's base, where ambiguous voices whispered in the dark—a chorus of lonely mumbles from hidden portraits.

Intensified by her fear of the dark, Nova's heartbeat thundered in her ears with such force that she failed to detect the soft footsteps drawing nearer.

"You can drop the disillusionment now," Sebastian's voice startled her. "This way."

 

Sebastian guided Nova through the passages with dim lumos, shadows contorting across the worn stone walls like fingers clawing at the edges of her vision.

"I hate how quiet it is down here," Nova murmured as her eyes fell upon what could only be described as a shrivelled Grindylow mounted at the centre of an ornate table.

"So, talk about something," Sebastian responded vaguely, perusing the contents of a bowed shelf. His fingertip traced along the spines before he carefully selected a handful and dumped them unceremoniously onto a desk.

Nova thumped her fingernails along the expansive row of leather-bound books, "Why did we have to lie to Ominis?"

"He doesn't understand this type of magic," he shrugged, crumpling a useless scrap parchment into a tight ball.

"He just saved me from humiliation. It didn't feel right to immediately turn around and lie to his face."

"Don't beat yourself up over it. His actions were probably fuelled by his own grievances than anything to do with you. Alice used to torture him when they were kids."

Nova halted her scrutiny of the grotesque tapestries, "Oh, please don't tell me they're related."

"You didn't hear this from me, but it's way worse than that," he said, tearing his eyes from the scattered papers on the desk to meet hers. "They're betrothed."

"You fucking WHAT?"

The wad of paper clenched in his fist was promptly hurled at her face, "Keep your voice down."

"You can't drop a bomb like that when we're supposed to be keeping quiet!" she hissed. "Fucking betrothed? Are you kidding me?"

"It's normal for families like his. They're obsessed with keeping their bloodline pure, so they pair their kids with other purebloods to guarantee it." With a huff of frustration, Sebastian pushed the useless pile of manuscripts to the floor and began to descend the staircase leading deeper into the library. "The Gaunt's are the highest commodity: The main ingredient in making little heirs of Slytherin."

Nova followed obediently, "They can't keep it within those… sacred families though, that's... I mean, eventually, they'll all be related."

"Why do you think Ominis was born blind?"

Nova felt her dinner churn in her stomach. Ominis' rejection of muggle prejudice was rare among purebloods, but given his background, it made sense. Why these families believed they were superior for marrying their relatives, as opposed to those with traces of muggle blood was beyond her.

"Is Alice happy with this arrangement?

"Not particularly. She's been chasing after his brother for years—always snitching on Ominis to him…" Sebastian explained, infusing more magic into his lumos as they entered the lower chamber of the library. "But he's pretty much emancipated himself at this point, so I suppose the arrangement is null and void."

"Oh... so does he stay at Hogwarts over the holidays?" Nova asked hopefully.

"No, he's been living with me and Anne since he went no contact."

Nova's shoulders sagged with a dejected huff. She had been looking forward to a week of respite from classes until finding out it was rare for any Slytherins to remain at Hogwarts during holidays. While she enjoyed her own company, the prospect of complete isolation was just depressing.

"You should come visit us in Feldcroft next week. I'd love for you to meet Anne, and I know she'd be thrilled to meet you."

"I would love that," her expression immediately brightened. "Do you think your uncle would mind?"

"There's not much that man doesn't mind," he grumbled, sweeping away some dust from a book nestled among splintering shelves. "Ah, now this is what I'm talking about!" His face lit up as he gathered up an armful of tomes.

 

They hunched over the decrepit writing desk at the heart of the room. Sebastian pored over each page, occasionally shoving aside a book with a grunt before conjuring the next. Nova slumped her head on crossed arms, repeatedly on the cusp of sleep before each jarring slam of heavy manuscript shattered her peace.

She tuned in to the delicate rustle of pages and hypnotic ticks of the grandfather clock, her eyelids growing heavy. A third sound intruded and her brow furrowed as she tried to identify it.

She shot to her feet so abruptly that darkness clouded the edges of her vision.

"Hide," Sebastian commanded as the harsh clack of heels closed in.

"Where?"

A disillusionment charm wouldn't be of much use if Scribner already knew someone was down here. The tables were too small to conceal anyone, and there were no freestanding bookshelves to dive behind.

Sebastian snatched the hefty leather-bound book from the table and thrust it into Nova's arms. Her protest was choked off as he aimed the tip of his wand at her skull. It felt as though a thick liquid was oozing from his wand's tip, slithering down her face and body.

"Keep quiet," he hissed as he backed away.

Nova glanced at the book in her arms, readying to hurl it back at him, but it had vanished—her arms were gone, too. Once again, her entire body had seamlessly blended into its surroundings.

"Caught sneaking into the restricted section—again!" Madame Scribner's voice sliced through the air as she rounded the corner. Her gaze swept the room before locking onto the habitual offender. "I thought we were past this!"

Flecks of spittle sprayed from her enraged mouth as she strode toward Sebastian, whose face had contorted into a twisted scowl.

"Go to hell, Scribner."

Crimson sparks crackled from the librarian's brandished wand, and for a fleeting moment, Nova thought she might witness a murder. Instead, she seized Sebastian's sleeve and dragged him along as she stormed out of the room, "We're taking this straight to the headmaster."

Sebastian writhed, complained, and hurled profanities with such dedication that Nova thought it was obvious he was masking the presence of an accomplice. Scribner seemed too consumed by rage to notice the blatant cues.

As Sebastian was hauled out of the library and towards Black's office, Nova returned to the desk and deposited the restricted section key into Scribner's coffee mug.

 

Nova darted down the corridors, her heart hammering against her ribcage and barely drawing breath until she found refuge in the Slytherin common room. She discarded the charm at the top of the staircase and, releasing a shaky breath, glanced down at the book. Her momentary respite was cut short.

 

Secrets of the Darkest Arts

 

Panic lodged itself in her throat. Trespassing into the restricted section after curfew might not cause immediate expulsion, but being caught in possesion of such a book certainly would be.

 

"Ominis?"

Nova hissed his name repeatedly, rapping her knuckles against his dormitory door. She wasn't sure if the shuffling behind it was real or a product of her thundering heartbeat. Finally, it eased open to reveal Ominis clad in linen pyjamas, the tip of his wand illuminating the dark corridor with a intermittent red hue.

"Sebastian?" he whispered, "Where have you been?"

"Ominis, it's me. I'm sorry to bother you, but can I come in?"

"Nova?" The door swung almost shut, leaving only a narrow crack for communication. "Can this wait? Where's Sebastian?"

"He's at the headmaster's office. I just need to do him a quick favour. I promise it'll be quick."

Ominis let out an irritated exhale. "One moment," he muttered before shutting the door. He reappeared shortly after, robes haphazardly draped over his body, and gestured for her to come inside. "What's happened?"

Nova's mind went blank. She lacked the finesse required to be an effective liar, but Sebastian's instructions had been clear.

Ominis can't know.

"Sebastian... he was caught breaking curfew," she explained carefully.

The bed groaned beneath Ominis' weight as he slumped on the edge and raked his fingers through his hair. "Right, how did you find out about this?

"… because I was with him."

He pinched the bridge of his nose in exasperation, "So, you two weren't going to Sharp for a dorm transfer?"

Nova's lips pressed into a tight line. "It... was my fault," she began. "A stupid impulse after what happened earlier. I'm just dropping something off for him, and I'll be out of your hair."

"What is it?"

Nova clutched the book with such force that the binding left indentations on her sternum. "…What?"

"What are you leaving for him?"

 "Just… some study assignments."

Ominis' eyes narrowed, his silence thick with suspicion. "You were out after curfew... to steal assignments?"

"Old ones," Nova blurted out, "Sebastian... he's going to... use them to cheat in his O.W.L.S."

Ominis slowly rose to his feet, "Sebastian consistently ranks at the top of most of his classes."

"Well... now we know why."

"Let me see," Ominis demanded, his words sounding more like a challenge than a request.

Nova's eyes flickered down, relieved to find the title wasn't embossed, which alleviated the risk of him being able to read it. "Careful, it's in a heavy binder," she cautioned as she handed it over.

Ominis withdrew his wand from his cloak pocket and swiped it across the title. The muscles in his jaw clenched as his wand turned from the decrepit leather to Nova, the threatening crimson glow distorting her vision. "You helped him get into the restricted section, didn't you?"

Shit.

"I don't want this filth anywhere near me or Sebastian," he snarled, thrusting the book at her with such force she nearly toppled over. "Take it and get out."

"I'm leaving it with Sebastian," she insisted, her nails steadily cutting into the flesh of her palms as she fisted them tighter. "You think I want anything to do with this?"

"You told me this was your idea," he pointed out, stiffening his posture as he towered over her. "So, deal with the consequences and don't even think about trying to shift the liability onto Sebastian."

A stifled gasp slipped from behind curtains, prompting Ominis to shoot two muffliato charms to halt the eavesdropping, earning irritated grumbles from both roommates.

"I'm giving you one last warning before I turn you in myself," he turned his wand towards Nova, pushing the tip against her chest. "Get out."

"We were just trying to find something to help Sebastian's sister, I didn't know it was anything dark," she withdrew her own wand and drove it against his stomach; he didn't flinch. "That, and a spell he said I could use to protect myself."

"What spell?"

"I don't know." Her palms were slick with sweat, threatening her grasp on her wand. "He just said we could find it in the restricted section."

Ominis scoffed, "In that case, you deserve expulsion for being so easily manipulated."

Nova fought back the urge to cast bombarda right into his abdomen.

"It was… if I could use it, I'd be able to control their actions," Nova stuttered, a fiery blush staining her cheeks as she struggled to articulate her words. She was immensely relieved that Ominis couldn't witness the angry tears he was coaxing from her. "Sebastian said if Alice tried to humiliate me, I could use it to retaliate or march them out the door."

Ominis' intimidating expression melted into one of shock.

Nova tried to exploit his hesitation and snatch his wand from under his vacant stare but was immobilised when his fingers clamped down on her wrist.

"How the fuck-"

"Expelliarmus," he sent her wand hurtling across the room, his grip constricting as she fought against him. "Are you talking about the Imperius Curse?"

"Let go of me," she spat, yanking her wrist from his bony grasp. "I told you, I don't know what it is."

"Are you even aware of the Unforgivable Curses?"

He was belittling her, and a seething rage began to cloud her rationale. Grinding her teeth, she marched over to Sebastian's wardrobe and flung it open.

"What do you think you're doing?" he scoffed, unimpressed with such a disastrous hiding place.

She ignored him, focused on stashing Sebastian's ill-gotten gains and distancing herself from this insufferable prick. Said prick cocked an eyebrow upon realising he was on the receiving end of the silent treatment.

"The Unforgivable Curses. They're the darkest of magic. Casting them will send you straight to Azkaban. Do you know what Azkaban is?"

"Yes, I know what Azkaban is," she spat at him. "I'm not an idiot."

"Well..." he shrugged, implying otherwise.

Her temper boiled over, and she hurled the manuscript at him. He countered her attack with infuriating ease. A casual flick of leviosa and the book was hovering effortlessly in front of him.

"Return to your dorm, and stay away from Sebastian. He doesn't need someone like you clinging to him."

He cloaked himself in the disillusionment charm and stormed out of the room, slamming the door in his wake.

An oppressive silence descended as the ringing in her ears subsided. Assuming he wouldn't return tonight, she climbed into Sebastian's bed, drew the curtains and tried to find some semblance of sleep.

Chapter 4

You didn't need to take the blame for him.

 

Sebastian slipped the note across the desk towards Nova.

Considering their last encounter had left her in possession of a manuscript on dark magic, she thought it a peculiar sentiment to lead with.

 

I'd rather not be indebted to him.

 

She scribbled back.

Claiming responsibility for Alice's fractured wrist and Anna's broken ankle was a small price to avoid owing Ominis any pleasantries.

Nova turned her attention back to the collection of transfiguration worksheets laid out before her, struggling to ignore the sound of Sebastian penning a reply. She prayed he had the mental restraint to avoid mentioning anything inappropriate.

As the suspense began to teeter on the edge of intolerable, the scrap of parchment burst into flames, the swirling ash coating their desk in a gritty layer of charred scraps.

With a wave of her hand, Professor Weasley dispersed wisps of smoke curling up into the air from the tip of her wand.

"Master Sallow. If you were to devote your energy to your assignments instead of passing notes to young ladies, perhaps you wouldn't find yourself in detention for stealing test papers."

Sebastian's chair emitted a creak as he reclined in it. "I've already completed all my assignments, Professor. Surely, this wasn't meant to occupy my entire day?"

Nova nudged him under the table. If he was going to use the excuse of cheating on tests to justify trespassing in the restricted section, he could at least pretend it was warranted.

Unfortunately, not much escaped Weasley's scrutinising gaze, "Don't encourage him, Miss Fenwick. It's evident Sebastian didn't act alone last night. One might begin to speculate."

Nova scoffed as if the insinuation were ludicrous. Still, she took the cue and kept her head down for the remainder of detention. 

 

It was barely time for dinner, but the dark Autumn skies were already shrouding Hogwarts as they trudged toward their common room on stiff legs.

"Only two more days," Sebastian tried to muster some semblance of comfort.

After eight hours of gruelling assignments in isolation, a reminder that they weren't even halfway through their punishment was anything but comforting.

Sebastian was wise enough to wait until the cluster of students who attended detention with them dispersed before cutting to the chase, "Do you have the book?"

"Yeah, I've got it right here."

"Seriously?"

"No! Of course not, you cretin." She hissed at him, balling up her fist and landing a feeble thump on his bicep, "Why the hell did you saddle me with that wretched thing?"

"There was no time to think!" He laughed in the face of her murderous glare. "I had to make a judgment call."

"You have terrible judgement."

He wore an expression that implied this wasn't news to him, "Look, I'm sorry. I genuinely believe the things in that book could help Anne. I couldn't risk leaving without it."

"Don't bring up your sick twin to get yourself out of trouble." She mumbled, although her irritation was beginning to tip into guilt, "I tried to stash it in your dorm, but Ominis accused me of trying to frame you and took it. I'm sorry. Maybe he'll tell you where it is."

"Nah, I know where he'll have hidden it. Come with me."

She sighed as though he were disrupting her non-existent plans as he pivoted on his heels and began jogging back the way they had come.

"Sebastian, the last time I followed you I ended up in three days of detention. Right now, all I want is a nap before dinner."

"Nova, your dorm's a snake pit. Where the hell are you planning to nap?"

"A fair point," she conceded, her steps reluctantly falling into place behind him.

He weaved them through the bustling crowd of students until they reached the base of the Defence Against the Dark Arts tower.

"Ta-da," Sebastian sang as he led her behind a staircase, unveiling an exceptionally unremarkable dead-end.

She stared at him blankly, waiting for the punchline.

"Here." He seized her wrist, hauling her against the wall and placing her palm on a large wooden cabinet.

"What the..." Nova's fingers trailed over the gilded celestial symbols embellishing the cabinet door. "How... did I miss this?"

"It's not common knowledge," Sebastian declared, leaning against the marble wall and puffing out his chest in an ostentatious display of pride. "It's charmed. You have to be shown the entrance. Not even the headmaster knows about this place." Withdrawing his wand, he swayed it across the golden dials. They whirred softly and clicked into place, triggering the cabinet door to slowly creak open.

"After you," he held the door open, and she ducked under his arm, making her way inside.

 

"I won't lie, this is a little underwhelming," Nova said, gently nudging one of the hollow barrels near the room's entrance. "This looks just like our potions classroom."

"Yeah, she's a fixer-upper."

The candles at the base of each of the four stone columns flickered to life as Sebastian strode further into the room. He flung a confringo at each iron brazier swinging from the carved ceiling, flooding the room in a cosy orange glow.

"Give me a hand; the book will be in here somewhere." He began to whisk off the canvas sheets from the assortment of artefacts cluttering the border of the room. "He named this place the Undercroft."

"He?" Nova asked, crossing to the opposite end of the room and casting a few revelio charms over the barrels.

"Ominis. His family told him about it, the only decent thing they ever did for him really. As far as we know, it's just the Gaunt's who know about the Undercroft. Along with me and Anne, so please don't breathe a word of this to anyone, especially Ominis."

"Does he come down here often?" Nova's stomach coiled into a tight knot. "He and I aren't exactly friends."

"Why, because you tried to frame me?" He snorted, shoving several priceless works of art to the ground in slow succession, inspecting the gap between each one. "It's fine; he'll probably be at dinner."

She noticed that he didn't answer her question. "I'm not sure loitering inside his family heirloom, hunting for the contraband he confiscated from me is a great position to be caught in."

"Well, if he turns up, just stay silent. He won't even know you're here."

"No, Sebastian," she jabbed her finger at him with a sudden surge of animation. "I swear to Merlin, that boy is playing us with his blind act. I flung that book straight at his head, and he caught it like it was nothing."

"So you're telling me you assaulted my best friend and dare to act like you're the one who should be intimidated?" He retrieved a rusty stick of metal that vaguely resembled a sword from a filthy barrel and began swinging it above his head with wild enthusiasm. "That's just his wand. It's almost sentient— it guides him. It takes control during duels..." A playful glint sparkled in his eye as he pointed the sword's tip at her. "It shields him from unhinged women attacking him with books."

"I didn't attack him," she mumbled, ashamed that she had more or less attacked him. Tensions were running exceptionally high last night, making it difficult to recall everything that went down. "I'll apologise when I see him," she concluded, transitioning to the next wall to cast more Revelio charms.

"Do you know any other spell?"

Nova cleared her throat, gesturing towards a splintered trunk at Sebastian's feet.

"Well, well, well…" He extracted a small leather notebook and lightly tapped it with his wand. It whirled rapidly in his hand before transforming into the recognisable tome. He beamed at Nova as if anticipating some kind of fanfare.

"Mocking my tactics…" she murmured, brushing off the dust that clung to her cloak. "If my work here is done, I might make my way to dinner."

"What?" he turned to her, attempting what he probably thought were puppy-dog eyes. "Your work here is not done. Don't you want to study this?"

"I don't know much about dark magic, but I do know I shouldn't get too involved," she subtly inched towards the exit. "If there's any other way I can help Anne, just let me know."

 

Nova slipped out of the Undercroft and into the deserted hallway, delicately closing the door behind her.

"Hello, Sebastian."

Oh boy.

Nova stared at Ominis blankly, torn between talking her way out or making a run for it.

"Wait," his calm voice acquired a sharp edge. "You there. I can hear you."

"Hello, Ominis," her voice was unnaturally high in a failed attempt to mask her unease, "I was just on my way to dinner." She tried to sidestep him, but he physically barred her path with an outstretched arm.

"You? Did you just come from the Undercroft?"

"Undercroft?" She echoed with feigned confusion. "I was exploring the castle and stumbled upon a peculiar passageway just back there—"

"Don't lie to me," he hissed, closing in on her, clasping his wand so tightly his knuckles turned white. "No one stumbles upon that room. Sebastian took you there, didn't he?"

She wasted a scowl on him, opting not to waste any effort on constructing a lie. He was nauseatingly perceptive.

"I swear to Merlin, if you utter a single word about this place, not even Sebastian will be able to help you. My father is friends with the headmaster, and I won't hesitate to exploit that connection if I need to."

"You needn't resort to threats, Ominis," she snapped, clenching her fists defiantly. "I won't breathe a word about your shabby cupboard, Sebastian made sure of that. He's a better friend than you give him credit for, so don't go assuming the worst of him."

"I don't need you to tell me about my oldest friend—"

"Ominis," she sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose. "I just meant—"

"I know what you meant," he spat, intentionally knocking into her shoulder as he pushed past. "I told you to stay away from us. Sebastian gets himself in enough trouble without your misguided help. If I ever see you here again..."

"I have no interest in being anywhere near you."

She stormed off, the door to the Undercroft echoing behind her with a violent slam.

Chapter 5

Nova shifted on her crossed legs, idly unravelling a loose thread on Sebastian's bedsheet, "Do you really think it wise I come today?"

He had simply laughed at Nova's furious recounting of Ominis' threats, shrugging them off as bluffs and reassuring her that he hadn't spoken to his father for years. Despite his attempts to downplay the situation, Nova vowed to avoid Ominis for the remainder of her Hogwarts days. It would have been easily upheld had Sebastian not been so insistent she join them in visiting Feldcroft.

"Anne's eager to meet you, and I won't let her down just because Ominis threw a tantrum," Sebastian said through gritted his teeth as he wrestled with the clasps of his overflowing trunk. "Plus, there's nothing better than forced proximity to spark a friendship."

"I highly doubt he'll ever earn the title of friend," Nova's voice trailed off as Ominis re-entered their dormitory, silently packing his wash bag into his trunk. Sebastian must have given him a talking-to, judging by the absence of catty comments regarding her tagging along for the day.

 

Nova pulled her limbs in tight to ward off the chill as they trudged up the cracked path to the Sallow house. It was smaller than she had anticipated. Just a thatched roof and crooked beams nestled between cobbled bricks, tucked away in a corner of the Scottish Highlands.

A comforting wave of heat wrapped around them as they stepped inside, radiating from the smouldering logs crackling in the fireplace. The entryway was adjacent to a compact bedroom with only a delicate crimson curtain for privacy—a barrier Anne swiftly drew back before diving into her brother's arms.

The witch was sickly thin, her gaunt frame accentuated by sunken eyes encased in deep purple circles. Despite her feeble appearance, a spark ignited within those eyes as three students shuffled into her home.

"I've heard so much about you", she told Nova before cocooning her in a surprisingly warm hug. "Thank you for keeping an eye on my brother while I'm away."

Nova chose to ignore the scoff behind her, and Anne moved over to hug the source of the noise. Ominis inhaled sharply as he curled his arms around her torso, "You've lost weight."

Sebastian's jaw clenched at the acknowledgement of Anne's deteriorating health, but he bit back any comments.

"Where's Soloman?" He asked tentatively, his eyes darting around the room as if he half-expected a fully grown man to materialise from the shadows within his home.

"He's working in the fields; he'll be home soon," Anne informed him, taking Nova by the hand and leading her to the dining table. "Tell me every detail of what's happened at Hogwarts in my absence."

Sebastian enthusiastically recounted every significant event since September first, though sidestepped any mention of the restricted section or books on dark magic. Anne's anger flared when he eventually touched upon the prejudice Nova had faced at the hands of their house mates.

"The three I roomed with were angels; feel free to take my bed while I'm away."

Nova nestled her head on Anne's shoulder, a sharp twinge between her shoulder blades serving as a reminder of the past few nights on the stiff common room sofa. "You can't imagine how much I appreciate that."

"She'll make sure it stays immaculate for your return," Sebastian interjected with a harsh edge.

"Sebastian," Anne laid her pallid hand over his, "I don't think—"

A burst of frigid wind swept through the doorframe, sending sparks from the fire swirling across the floorboards. Solomon stormed past them and into the kitchen to rinse off thick dirt coating his fingers.

"Have you started on lunch, boy?" he tossed the question over his shoulder as he attended to his hands.

"I almost forgot!" Sebastian released his trunk and rifled through his rumpled clothes, handing a paper pouch to Anne. She struggled under its weight, but Sebastian pretended not to notice.

"Is this..." Anne's voice trailed off in astonishment as she extracted a shrivelfig fruit. "How on earth did you manage to—"

"We've been through this!" The kitchen cabinets rattled under Solomon's fist as he slammed it on the counter. In three aggressive strides, he yanked the fruit from Anne and obliterated it with a flick of his wand. "Shrivelfigs don't reverse curses; nothing can . The sooner you grasp that reality, the better."

"Where's the harm in trying?" Sebastian's voice erupted, snatching the pouch of remaining fruits from Solomon's grasp.

"THERE IS NO CURE."

Nova scraped at a stubborn stain on the dining table with her fingernail, grumbling about the tenacity of candle wax on woodwork and wishing she had the means to apparate.

Anne's anguished scream cut through the tense atmosphere, a piercing mixture of physical pain and a potentially a desperate attempt to stop the escalating conflict.

"Now look what you've done," Solomon elbowed Sebastian aside and took charge of guiding Anne to bed while Sebastian trailed behind, shouting profanities at his uncle.

"Would you like a tour of Feldcroft?" Ominis asked as he rose from the table. His tone wasn't particularly kind. It felt more like a statement that he was departing and was too polite to leave her alone.

She was sure they could view the entire Hamlet from Sebastian's front doorstep but was grateful for the opportunity to escape the tense situation.

 

It only took a few minutes for them to pass Feldcroft's modest structures and begin weaving through the copper trees bordering the village.

Ominis' tour guide skills paled in comparison to Sebastian's. Mainly because Ominis carried his out in oppressive silence.

"Is Solomon always that quick to anger?" Nova was the first to shatter the standoff when it started to breach the barriers of discomfort.

"He's getting worse."

She stared at him, waiting for an elaboration that never came. "Well... does Anne seem any better since the last time you saw her?"

He clenched his wand tighter, "I'd rather not discuss that."

She couldn't conceal the irritated sigh of defeat and it didn't go unnoticed.

"I'm sorry your visit to Feldcroft isn't meeting your expectations. Shall I walk you back to the floo flames?"

She rolled her eyes at his shameless attempt to get rid of her, "It's exceeding my expectations, actually." Her fingers brushed against a moss-covered wall, picking up a frosty layer of moisture on her skin.

"Is that so," Ominis replied, wholly disinterested.

"Mm-hmm, I just thought you'd be the one making it uncomfortable."

"Me?" Ominis' voice acquired that tell-tale sharp edge. "I don't recall being the instigator of any of our disputes."

"I truly hope you're winding me up." She gave into the childish urge to flick her sodden fingers at his face. "Whenever Sebastian makes a questionable decision, you unleash hell on me."

"Pinning it all on Sebastian? How predictable," he retorted with a sneer, palming the flecks of moisture from his cheek.

"So I'm not just ignorant, I'm predictable too?"

They stewed in an excruciating silence, the relentless crunch of leaves underfoot the only audible disturbance. Nova would have stormed off, but her abysmal sense of direction and the dread of marching in the wrong direction kept her begrudgingly tethered to Ominis.

"I shouldn't have called you ignorant," he eventually conceded, pulling back a gatepost and gesturing for her to take the lead, "I just got the impression you didn't grasp the severity of what you were meddling with."

"I think that's the definition of ignorant."

"Well, if the shoe fits..." A smug grin crept onto his lips, but the expression evaporated when she flicked more water at his face.

"Just so we're clear, I have no interest in dark magic. I didn't know that's what Sebastian was after; he just fed me some line about helping Anne," Nova admitted, kicking a loose pebble that shot into the dense grass lining the path. "That, and I wanted something to fend off Alice."

"Am I correct in assuming you assisted him in locating the book after I hid it?"

Nova sucked air in through her clenched teeth. "To be fair, you didn't exactly shed any light on my..." she hesitated, not wanting to grant him the satisfaction of saying ignorance. "Unfamiliarity with the situation. I'm still under the impression it might help."

Ominis ran his fingers through his hair, the October sun casting a shimmer that accentuated the strands of gold. "It won't help. Soloman is right; she can't be cured."

"How can you say that—"

"He was an Auror; he fought against dark wizards and experienced the havoc of dark magic first hand. I trust his judgement. It's far more educated than Sebastian's."

He had a valid point, but it seemed unfair to fault Sebastian for trying. Swallowing her pride, she decided to ask the question that had plagued her mind for days, "What exactly is the unforgivable curse? Is that what Anne's cursed with?"

"No one knows what Anne's cursed with," Ominis sighed, "and there are three curses. The one Sebastian mentioned is the imperius curse, putting someone under your complete control. One causes unbearable pain, and the other is the killing curse."

"That final one might come in handy against Alice."

He exhaled with an allusion of approving laughter, and she thought it might be an ideal opportunity to bond through shared trauma.

"Sebastian told me about your connection to her."

Ominis gripped his wand so fiercely his knuckles clicked.

Uh oh.

"Something about your parents being friends?" Nova adopted a vague cadence in an attempt to smooth things over. "He said she'd pull some cruel tricks on you?"

"She's just a cruel person," he snapped, anger scrunching the lines on his forehead. "What else did he say? Sebastian shouldn't be divulging my private life to you."

She briefly entertained the idea of asking if Sebastian's actions made him want to scream at her but quickly dismissed it, assuming he wouldn't appreciate the joke.

Another suffocating silence wedged between them, and it squeezed her chest uncomfortably.

"Have Sebastian's actions made you want to scream at me?"

"That's not funny."

The woodland echoed with the soothing rush of flowing water as they neared an arched bridge spanning a broad stream. The steep mounds flanking each side were adorned with wildflowers and water reeds.

"Do you want to have a stick race?" Nova suggested, trying to diffuse the tension she had unintentionally stirred.

"Excuse you?" Ominis stopped just before the bridge as Nova foraged on the forest floor for the ideal twigs.

"We each toss sticks over the edge of the bridge into the stream. The first stick to reappear on the opposite side wins. It's a game I used to play with my dad; it's just a bit of fun," she explained, brushing the remnants of dried mud from her hands onto her knitted pullover. "Ever heard of fun?"

"Have you?"

"Do you fancy the little stick or the slightly littler stick?" She ignored his comment, presenting the two options as if he had a visual preference.

"Littler stick."

Handing him the smaller of the two, she led the way as they trudged up the bridge's incline.

"The water's flowing from the left," Nova informed him, her palms pressing against the splintered wood as she leaned over to watch the current.

"I'm aware the water's flowing from the left; I'm not deaf," he snapped, striding up to stand alongside her.

"On the count of three," Nova poised her stick over the side. "No throwing, just dropping. One, two, three." They released them and sprinted to the other side. Ominis' shot out from under the bridge with a rapid surge, while Nova's pitifully lagged behind, entangling itself on every obstacle in its path.

"Who won?" Ominis' asked.

"Me."

"Are you lying?"

"… No."

"Muggle games are riveting," Ominis sneered with heavy sarcasm as he strolled down to the other side of the bridge, with Nova trailing behind.

A gust of wind swept through the plants bordering the stream, forcing them into a frenzied rustle. As the wind quieted, a small patch of ferns persisted in trembling violently.

"What is that…?"

An acromantula burst from the undergrowth, dashing erratically across the footpath in front of them. Its thick, hairy legs pounded the ground, unleashing miniature plumes of dust as it swiftly vanished into the surrounding trees.

Nova released a shrill scream, recoiling toward Ominis and nearly toppling them to the ground. His wand slipped from his grasp, and he instinctively placed his hand on her shoulder to steady them both. 

"Are you alright?"

"A spider the size of God just blasted out of that bush." she gasped, her hand tightly clutched against her chest.

"Really?" Ominis sounded irritatingly unconvinced. "They don't typically get that big in Feldcroft."

 "Are you fucking joking? That thing could have roundhouse kicked Professor Ronan."

Despite his efforts to stifle it, a laugh burst from his throat in a loud snort, causing Nova to erupt into giggles amidst her rapid breaths, proud at having made the stoic boy laugh.

"How large are we talking?"

Nova straightened her back and took hold of his wrists, using his hands to indicate the size of the arachnid.

He scoffed dismissively, "That's a baby."

"Fattest baby I've ever seen," She replied, releasing his hands and glancing cautiously towards the treeline. "Are there many around here?"

"Do you see all those patches of undergrowth?"

"Yes."

"That many."

She scoffed nervously, opting to believe that he was winding her up.

"Where have you thrown my wand?" he muttered, dragging the sole of his shoe across the path in an effort to locate it.

She tore her eyes from the shadowy edge of the forest, redirecting her attention to the grassy embankment by the babbling stream.

"It's down by the water. I'll get it, wait there."

Clinging to the coarse surface of the timber bridge, she carefully sidestepped down the incline, nearly losing her footing on the dewy grass.

"Accio it," he instructed as if that wasn't the first thing she thought of.

"Can't do magic outside of school, genius."

"Oh, how unfortunate," he remarked with a smirk.

Nova reclined against the bridge, anchoring her heels in the cakey mud to steady herself. "Very well, get it yourself then."

"Fine."

He was either showing off or calling her bluff as he confidently moved towards the steep embankment. She folded first.

"Wait, Ominis, I was just kidding." Taking a few precarious steps back up towards him, she positioned herself to block his path. "It's really slippery."

"And? I'm not made of glass," he replied, pushing past her. "Besides, I want to sit by the water for a while."

Nova fought to withhold a snarky comment when he immediately stumbled and nearly lost his balance.

"Is your pride worth a broken leg? Here, let me guide you at least," she offered, tapping his forearm to indicate where he should grip.

Instead, he reached for the bridge's surface, his fingertips just lightly grazing its cragged exterior.

"Oh, stop being such a stubborn arse."

"Fine," he snapped, begrudgingly interlocking his fingers with hers. He allowed her to shuffle past him, gently leading him down the slope.

"Mind your step; there's a line of boulders to your left," she cautioned, tugging him around the obstacle.

"I know, I live here."

Exasperated, she rolled her eyes. "In Feldcroft or under this bridge?"

"What do you think?"

"Figures, you look like a troll."

She could have sworn she heard a breathy laugh, but with all her concentration focused on keeping them on their feet, she refrained from glancing up to verify. 

 

Ominis transfigured his cloak into a blanket large enough for them both, and they reclined on a secluded patch of dry grass.

"How come you can do magic outside of school?" Nova asked, nestling into a ball to conserve warmth.

"Blind," Ominis replied flatly, "And the Minister of Magic happens to be a family friend."

"Oh, so you're a Gaunt when it benefits you?"

He ignored her, stretching out on his back like a content cat. The brisk October breeze lashed at Nova's exposed skin, setting off her chattering teeth. Ominis grumbled at the noise but discreetly cast a warming charm to cocoon them in a snug warmth. She pretended not to notice.

 

"Well, isn't this cute?"

Sebastian's voice roused Nova and Ominis from their nap. He descended the embankment with annoyingly effortless grace and sat down with an exasperated huff.

"I'm so sorry for putting you both in such an uncomfortable situation."

"Don't be rude, Sebastian; Nova's not as insufferable as you make her out to be."

Nova's laughter hitched in her throat, "I'd be tempted to give you a kick if that wasn't the kindest thing you've ever said to me."

Chapter 6

"Gran was showing me around Blackdown Hills, where she used to play with wild beasts as a little girl—"

Nova was partially tuned into Poppy's recounting of her half-term break, her emerald cloak and tie inconspicuously concealed beneath the Hufflepuff table. Her head was propped in her hand as she picked at the pastry on her plate, reducing its flaky layers to fine dust.

"We got the kneazle untangled from the thorns... We named it... Nova, are you listening?"

"Oh, I'm sorry, Poppy. I was just, uh..." She gestured towards her demolished breakfast. "Lost in thought, I suppose. You caught a kneazle?"

"Rescued!" Poppy corrected indignantly, "We managed to save the kneazle, and I named her Nova."

"Kneazle-Nova is lucky to have crossed paths with you," Nova smiled warmly, brushing the lingering crumbs from her fingers back onto the plate. "We both are."

Poppy's eyes sparkled as she beamed back at her, "How was your break? Feldcroft must have been lovely. Anne is such a gem, isn't she? We used to share an astronomy class. How's she doing?"

Nova's thoughts were still untangling from their earlier wanderings, making it a challenge to keep up with the rapid-fire questions. "Honestly, it wasn't great," she confessed. "I didn't get much time with Anne before her uncle and Sebastian got into a massive argument. I haven't seen him since everyone returned, and I'm getting worried."

"Have you seen Ominis?" Poppy asked, her words cutting through a large bite of croissant. "They're usually joined at the hip, you could ask him."

Nova's expression twisted into a grimace. "I make a point of avoiding him if possible. He tolerates me at best and doesn't exactly approve of our friendship."

"Because you're such a bad influence?" Poppy snorted, and Nova tried not to take offence. "Ominis is nice, I'm sure he'll help. I saw him heading to the Dark Arts Tower earlier. Do you want me to help you find him?"

"It's fine. I can tell you're eager to say hello to all your beasts."

 

Following breakfast, Nova dawdled at the threshold of the Undercroft. She had steered clear since Ominis had issued his threats, but it was the only unexplored corner of the castle in her search for Sebastian. Flicking her wand over the gilded symbols, she clung to the hope Ominis wasn't down there with him. That hope shattered the moment she stepped into the dusty abyss, instantly assaulted by the intensity of his deranged voice.

"Anything to do with the dark arts should be avoided, Sebastian. It's too risky."

"At this point, anything to do with Salazar Slytherin is worth the risk," Sebastian countered, his agitated footsteps pacing restlessly between the candlelit pillars.

"Well, I don't see it that way. I won't entertain further discussion on the matter. I'm sorry."

Nova might as well have been a ghost. Ominis strode past her with a silent indifference—an improvement, she had to admit, from their first encounter in the Undercroft.

"What was that about?" she joined Sebastian at a makeshift desk, creatively assembled from a precarious stack of trunks. "Is this where you've been for the past day? Sebastian, I was worried."

"I'm sorry," he attempted to console her with something resembling a hug, but his eyes and palm remained glued on scraps of parchment scattered across the worktop. "That book we stole states that Salazar Slytherin has a scriptorium here in Hogwarts. It turns out Ominis has known about it this whole time."

"A scriptorium?"

"Yes, there has to be a treasure trove of information on dark magic in there. There has to be some insight into curses." His initial enthusiasm gave way to a more solemn expression as he collapsed onto a chair. "Ominis wants no part in it, but only an heir of Slytherin can find the entrance. Whatever's in that room might hold the answers for Anne."

Nova nudged aside the manuscript, settling atop the trunk to face him. "Ominis does have a point, Sebastian. While a cure for Anne is the best-case scenario, have you considered the worst-case?"

"As I said to him, it's worth the risk." Sebastian dismissed her concern with a wave of his hand. "There is far more to dark magic than most people realise, the Gaunt's know this all too well."

Nova's curiosity stirred at his words. Ominis had implied that his comprehension of dark magic revolved solely around Soloman's time as an auror.

"What do you mean by that?"

Sebastian ran a nervous hand through his wild hair. "I shouldn't have told you about Ominis' family history in the library," his words escaped rapidly, as if fighting to restrain himself from divulging more. "He gave me quite a scolding."

Nova's gave him a sheepish smile. "To be fair, I didn't mention anything to do with the whole marriage arrangement. He's just annoyingly perceptive."

"You're not wrong." His eyes darted toward the exit to ensure Ominis had left. "Look, if you promise not to breathe a word..."

"I promise," Nova said, crossing her heart with her fingers, fully aware that her track record for keeping secrets was far from flawless.

"Ominis was schooled in dark magic by his family. Have you heard of the Cruciatus Curse?"

"Is that one of the unforgivables? Ominis told me a little."

"It's the curse that inflicts unbearable pain on its victims," Sebastian explained. "His parents and brother use it on muggles for sport. They forced Ominis to cast it when he was just a child; when he refused, they subjected him to it themselves."

Guilt coiled in the pit of her stomach. No wonder he was so adamant about keeping away from dark magic.

 "The rift between him and his family only widened from there until I came along," Sebastian continued. "He trusts me, and more often than not, he listens to what I have to say. I'm sure I can convince him to help."

"I don't think it's fair for Ominis to forbid you from exploring options to save Anne. But it's also unfair to involve him, given his past. Is there anything in that book that doesn't drag him into it?"

"Nothing else that remotely relates to dark curses," he sighed, unbothered by her judgement. "Although, there's a whole section dedicated to secret rooms in Hogwarts." He angled the book to better catch the candlelight. "Take a look at this, the Room of Requirement."

 

The room features a unique capability to furnish or transform itself into precisely what a witch or wizard unequivocally requires at any given moment.

 

"Really?" Nova remained unconvinced. "Surely, a room like that would be common knowledge by now?"

"I'm not so sure; look here." Sebastian persisted, gesturing to another section of the passage.

 

To access the room, it is necessary to cross the vicinity of the door repeatedly, passing it three times while maintaining a focused intention for the desired outcome.

 

"According to this map, it should be located on the seventh floor of the astronomy tower, right across from the tapestry of Barnabus the Barmy."

"Where the toilets are?"

"What toilets?"

"Just... the toilets," Nova repeated with a shrug. "The ones across from the tapestry."

Sebastian's forehead creased in confusion. "Nova, there are no toilets across from the tapestry."

"Yes, there is," she insisted. "During my first astrology class, Professor Shah wouldn't let me go to the toilet. By the time the class finished, I was desperate, so I ran down that corridor—"

Her sentence came to a screeching halt in realisation, and her eyes locked onto Sebastian's, both their mouths agape in gleeful delirium.

 

Sunlight poured into the corridor from the adjacent staircase as Nova and Sebastian stood facing the deceptively ordinary wall. Sebastian rapped his knuckles against the stone before pressing his ear to the cold surface, listening intently. After a moment, he took a step back, shaking his head.

"Well, what are you needing?" Nova asked, searching along the dents and contours of the stonework for any hidden seams.

"I need access to a scriptorium that harbours cures for dark and debilitating curses."

"Right... Well, concentrate on... that. And walk past three times," she urged, giving him a gentle push to start pacing along the length of the corridor.

"Why in Merlin's name were you pacing back and forth like a caged lion if you needed a piss?" his voice echoed through the corridor much louder than necessary.

"It was my first week, Sebastian; I didn't know where the fuck I was."

He laughed, though his amusement gradually waned as he continued to pace, realising that no hidden door was materialising.

"Perhaps the room doesn't know how to fix a curse," Nova said as Sebastian came to a miserable halt. "Or maybe it only listens to me," she added, pushing him against the tapestry before darting off to the other end of the corridor. "I need a weeeeeeeee!" she bellowed as she sprinted back and forth.

Sebastian snatched the hood of her cloak and flung her behind him. "I need a scriptorium that holds cures for dark curseeeees!" he hollered with equal enthusiasm as he sprinted to the end of the passage, colliding with the wall and using the impact's momentum to throw himself back down the corridor.

He hurtled toward Nova, who extended her arm in an attempt to slow him down. Their collision sent them both tumbling to the ground in a wild entanglement of limbs, the force of the impact knocking the breath out of them.

"Well, it would have been a bloody miracle if that worked," Sebastian choked out between laughter as they both lay winded on the floor. He gave a thumbs-up to a confused Ravenclaw, who cautiously sidestepped their sprawled bodies. "I should get to class. I'll revisit the scriptorium topic with Ominis later," he groaned as he rose to his feet. Extending a hand as he helped Nova up from the floor. "And if he doesn't agree... well... he's not the only heir."

Nova watched Sebastian vanish around the corner, her elation transforming into a rising tide of panic. Hadn't he just told her about Ominis' family's reputation for torture? They were clearly very dark wizards. Sebastian was putting himself in grave danger.

 

Nova wriggled through the throng of bodies ambling into the classroom, diving to secure the seat beside Ominis.

There were several factors to the lethargy that hung over their history of magic class, but chiefly among them was Professor Binn's complete lack of direct engagement with his students. The hypnotic drone of his voice kicked into gear, and eyelids began drooping under the weight of the monotonous lecture.

Ominis folded his arms and rested them on his open textbook, snuggling into the bunched fabric from his sleeves. His charmed quill danced frantically across his parchment, diligently scribbling down vital notes while he stole a nap. Beside him, Nova absently scratched at the etchings on their desk, adding to the collection of inscriptions left by countless generations of tired students.

She let slip a quiet sigh, her eyes flitting over to Ominis as she wrestled with the best way to broach the subject of Sebastian. His gentle breaths tousled his typically well-kept hair, strands cascading untidily across his forehead. Nova resisted the temptation to whip out her quill and play connect-the-dots with the splatter of beauty marks on his cheek, instead captivated by how closely they resembled Ursa Major.

His disembodied quill darted across the desk, leaving behind a hastily scrawled note on her parchment.

 

Stop staring at me.

 

A deep flush of embarrassment stained her cheeks.

"I need to talk to you," she whispered, edging herself closer to him, her voice dropping to a murmur, "It's about Sebastian."

 

If this is about the scriptorium, I don't want to hear it.

 

She had barely finished reading his scribbled message before the quill scratched out every word in an erratic frenzy, leaving no trace of the message behind.

"This is important, Ominis. I'm on your side."

He continued to feign sleep and she released an exasperated groan, unintentionally rousing a pair of slumbering witches suspended in mid-scribble.

 

Class finally ended, and Nova hurriedly packed up, struggling to keep pace with Ominis while everyone else was still rubbing sleep from their eyes. He stormed to a secluded corner behind a stairwell, then promptly turned around to face her.

"You have one minute."

"Sebastian told me about the scriptorium—"

"It's a cesspit of dark magic. It's staying untouched," he interrupted, "He can't get near it without me, and I won't change my mind."

He began to walk away, but Nova's fingers tightened around the crook of his elbow. "Ominis, listen to me," she snapped. She anticipated resistance and was taken aback when he remained silent. "He didn't go into details, but he said you're not the only descendant. I think he's planning to reach out to your brother."

Ominis' pallid features turned an even more ghostly shade of white; he looked like he was going to be sick. "We can't allow him to do that," his voice strained as he fought to suppress a tremor.

"I know," Nova replied, comforted by his use of the word we. "I've been mulling it over all morning, and from where I stand, there are only two options." She spoke softly as she proposed the first option: "You unlock the scriptorium, and we allow him to go in alone." She knew he wouldn't favour this choice.

"He'll die."

"You can't know that for sure."

"I can," he murmured, his eyes squeezing shut as he dragged his fingertips down his face. "It happened to my aunt, Noctua. She shared my beliefs and disagreed with the family's use of dark magic. She hoped to convince my family there was more to Salazar Slytherin than worshipping pureblood status. She'd heard of this scriptorium and thought its contents might shed some light. She wrote to my father about her efforts to gain access, and then… vanished."

Their classmates passed by, casting concerned glances at the intense exchange under the stairs. Nova gently tugged on Ominis' sleeve, coaxing him closer into the privacy of the corner until their bodies were nearly touching.

"Noctua ventured down this path with good intentions and paid with her life," Ominis said quietly. "I don't want history to repeat itself."

She transitioned to the second option, "Your aunt ventured in alone, but three wands are better than one. We could do this together. Honour your aunt's memory by completing what she started and steer Sebastian away from self-destruction along the way."

He scratched the back of his neck as he mulled over the options. "This isn't your fight. I appreciate the warning, but if you want to walk away now, you can do so."

"I'm not going anywhere," she told him indignantly, offended by another attempt to distance her from Sebastian, but his features softened to something resembling relief rather than resistance.

"Good. I feel more at ease knowing you're on my side."

Notes:

I had *Nova and Sebastian look at each other in gleeful shock like that one clip of Andy Dwyer in parks and rec* in the draft copy of this for so long before I found the right words to describe it.

Chapter 7

"Nova asks, and you immediately fold?" Sebastian pouted, dragging his feet along the dungeon floor. "You wouldn't listen to me when I practically begged."

Nova gave him a jab in the ribs, frustrated at his lack of gratitude. She had expected a triumphant fanfare for persuading Ominis to help, only to be met with this sulky brat instead.

"What was it your book said?" Ominis ignored his tantrum, coming to a halt at the end of the corridor. Candlelight filtered down the narrow passageway, casting long shadows around them as he turned to Nova. "Something about threes?"

"The heir of the serpent ignites the triad of flames," Sebastian recited from memory, his expression darkening as the faint jeers of students flowed through the hallway. "You need to hurry before everyone starts coming back from dinner."

Sconces were nailed into the dungeon walls, chandeliers of interlocked candles swayed above their heads, but nothing stood out as a triad.

"Ominis, can you cast a revealing charm?"

"You and your revealing charms," Sebastian muttered under his breath, pretending to clean something from under his nailbed.

"Stop sulking, or the only thing I'll reveal is your deathbed."

"Don't," Ominis scolded, withdrawing his wand. Her being told off dragged a reluctant smirk out of Sebastian.

As Ominis voiced the incantation, three braziers appeared along the dungeon walls. They felt oddly familiar, as though they had always been there but bewitched to be ignored like the entrance to the Undercroft.

"A triad of flames?"

"Ever the observant one," Sebastian said with reignited enthusiasm. "Over to your left, Ominis."

The heir of Slytherin hurled three bolts of fire at the braziers, and a deafening crack tore through the corridor, its violent tremors rattling the ground beneath their feet.

Dust erupted from the fractures in the wall as it crumbled away, unveiling a dark, ominous passageway. The suffocating cloud of grit assaulted their senses and Nova fought to keep pace with Sebastian, whose urgent voice pierced through the chaos.

"Move." He hacked as he grasped Nova's elbow and hauled her towards the opening in the wall.

The trio barely had time to hurl themselves over the threshold before the debris withdrew, reforming and sealing the wall back up, imprisoning them in the chamber. As their hoarse coughing gradually subsided, the oppressive silence took over— magnifying every raspy breath until it felt deafening. Nova blinked rapidly, but her vision was engulfed in darkness.

"Ominis, is this what it's like to be you?"

Sebastian's comment was followed by a smack. Nova conjured a lumos, casting a light on Sebastian as he rubbed the back of his head and shot an accusatory glare at Ominis.

"Would you two help me light this place?"

"Scared of the dark?" Sebastian infused magic into his wand and flooding light into the far corners of the chamber.

"No, she's scared of spiders," Ominis smirked as his fingertips trailed along the deteriorating walls.

"I can be scared of two things."

As if mocking her words, a cobweb floated down from the shallow ceiling, caressing her face with its delicate strands. She stumbled backwards and collided with a vaulted metal gate in a frantic attempt to swat it away.

Ignoring Sebastian's laughter, Nova pressed her ear against the door. "Can you hear that hissing?" she asked, feeling for a draft seeping through the doorframe.

"It's a voice," Ominis joined her, stroking the metallic snakes coiling up the length of the door. "It's speaking parseltongue."

"Snake language," Sebastian clarified, noting her baffled expression. "He speaks snake."

"It's often associated with dark wizards; many of Slytherin's descendants possess the ability," Ominis admitted with a displeased sigh. "I haven't used it in quite some time. But I'm willing to wager that this door will open if I speak parseltongue now."

Ominis took a step back and raked a hand down his face. He moistened his lips which were still gritty with flecks of sand, and began whispering a low, ghostly incantation. The hypnotic sound reverberated off the chamber walls, the hissing growing in intensity until a multitude of enchantments were writhing their way out of his throat.

Nova couldn't tear her eyes from him. It was hauntingly beautiful—His captivating pale eyes flickering in the glow of her wand. An otherworldly emerald glow radiated from the silver serpents, and with a satisfied hiss, they slithered up the door frame. The corroded hinges responded with a protesting creak as the door inched open.

Nova parted her lips to speak, but words failed her. She stood in silent fascination as Ominis obliviously brushed a tickling cobweb from the nape of his neck.

A feigned cough from Sebastian snagged her attention, and with a sly twinkle in his eyes, he flicked them between her and Ominis.

"You like snakes?"

Nova hoped the darkness concealed her flushing cheeks. She shoved the door open to escape and a vile blast of putrid air forced them to recoil in disgust. She bunched the fabric of her sleeve against her nose, squinting through watery eyes at what laid ahead. Their wands struggled to pierce the oppressive darkness, barely extending beyond the doorframe.

Sebastian fought to draw a breath, using it to retch up a charm that alleviated the stench. As he slipped through the door, the torches affixed to the walls of the narrow chamber burst into life.

"It's a dead end," Nova informed Ominis as they reluctantly trailed behind. The declaration was underscored by a deafening bang as the door slammed shut behind them, sealing the chamber.

Ominis scrabbled feverishly at the doorframe, probing the seams and muttering urgent strings of parseltongue to coax it open.

Nova's gaze was fixated in horror at Sebastian's feet.

"Is that...?"

"Rats," Sebastian interrupted, shooting her a stern look.

The lifeless figure lay coiled in a fetal position on the filthy floor, cobwebs tightly weaved across the body like a shroud. Leathery skin was tainted by the nipping of rats and bugs that had found their way into the dark labyrinth. It was Noctua.

Sebastian knelt beside her, rummaging through the pockets of her tattered robes.

"Sebastian," Nova hissed in revulsion.

Unperturbed, he shook his head as he rose to his feet, brushing off the residue on his thighs.

"How do we escape this place?" Ominis asked, his fingertips skimming perilously close to the scratch marks on the wall left by his beloved aunt.

"There's an etching on the floor here," Nova pointed out, her eyes narrowing as she examined the word next to Noctua's skeletal hand. "Crucio."

Sebastian's wand burst into flames, and he seared away layers of dead vines, unveiling a barrier with carved faces, concealed beneath years of filth. "I've got it. The incantation is right here on the floor, and just look at these tortured faces. We've got to cast the Cruciatius Curse to get through."

Ominis sucked in a sharp breath, retreating to the entrance of the chamber and continuing his efforts to charm open the sealed door.

"As if he believes casting a spell is worse than facing death in here," Sebastian grumbled, throwing his arms up at Ominis' sudden departure. "We've got to convince him. I think I know how to cast it, but I've never had the chance to practice."

Nova found Sebastian's confession uncomfortable, sensing a hint of regret as if he wished he had some prior experience with dark magic.

"And Ominis does?" she raised an eyebrow, "You told me he refused to cast it."

Sebastian looked sheepish, as if he'd once again let slip more than he should have. "Look, could you just try talking to him? You seem to be in his favour lately." A undercurrent of bitterness suggested his words might have been intended as an insult.

 

"I refuse," Ominis snapped, sat on the floor with his knees pulled up to his chest. "I could hear you muttering over there. Why does Sebastian always feel the need to share my business with you so freely?"

"It's the only path forward," Nova chose her words carefully as she knelt beside him. "Sebastian mentioned you have experience, and I was hoping you might reconsider, given the circumstances."

"I have cast it before," he confessed, his voice muffled by his arms as he buried his face in them. "My brother would force me to cast it when I was a child; he would cast it on me until I relented. The screams of my victims were as torturous as the curse itself. I would rather die than ever have to endure that again."

Nova tried to shoot a nervous glance at Sebastian, but he was too absorbed in hurling every spell he could conjure at the door.

"You were just a child," Nova reiterated his own words. She reached out to lay a comforting hand on his arm, but he wrenched it away.

 

"Would you stop that!" she snapped at Sebastian. Each bombarda caused a torrent of grit to rain down on them, threatening to bury them alive. "Ominis isn't casting the curse, nor is he receiving it. Given that he didn't even want to come here, it's only fair this falls on me and you."

Sebastian shifted uncomfortably at the implication. "I could try to teach you if you'd like?"

Nova considered Sebastian's proposition, but wielding the curse right after that conversation with Ominis felt like an insult to everything he'd been through – not to mention that Sebastian wasn't even sure he could cast it himself.

Nova shook her head, "Cast it on me." A surge of adrenaline electrified her skin. "Just... give me a countdown."

"Crucio."

She staggered backwards, his abrupt incantation ringing in her ears, but she felt nothing but shock. Sebastian tried again, but there was still no effect.

Seconds dragged into minutes until nearly an hour passed with nothing but the occasional flicker of a red spark from the tip of Sebastian's wand.

Ominis traversed the narrow chamber in restless strides, "You have to mean it."

"Then do it yourself; you're the expert," Sebastian spat back.

"I can't. I don't want to hurt her either, Sebastian," Ominis' knuckles audibly clicked from the force of his clenched fists. In a misguided attempt to strike back, he muttered under his breath, "What a tremendous help to Anne this turned out to be."

Nova observed a flash of anger erupting across Sebastian's features at the mention of his sister, and she knew what needed to be done.

"Don't talk about Anne—" Sebastian began, but Nova cut him off with a forceful shove to his chest.

"He's right though, isn't he?" She interrupted, her voice seething with feigned fury as she wedged between Sebastian and Ominis. "Why couldn't you accept that her curse isn't reversible? Even if, by some miracle, there's a cure on the other side of the door, we're trapped on this side because of you. Just because Anne is dying doesn't give you the right to drag us down with her—"

Nova's rant was silenced as Sebastian unleashed the full, devastating power of the curse on her.

Thousands of white-hot knives flayed every inch of her skin, they traced every nerve, slashed open every organ. She was brutally cleaved down to the bone, her flesh and hair ripped away, leaving her exposed and consumed by a tornado of excruciating agony.

The crimson lightning lashing at her contorted body bolted toward the door. The once-impenetrable passage began to melt away to unveil Salazar Slytherin's Scriptorium.

She was blind; the agony was receding but offering no relief as it bled into the searing after-shock of scalded skin. She reached out for something, anything—then she felt it. Soft hands intertwining with hers, hauling her against something stable and warm. Palms tenderly rubbed at her throbbing skin, and a soothing voice gradually came into focus.

"Se... Seb—?"

"I've got you, you're alright. I promise you're alright," Ominis murmured repeatedly as she sobbed against his chest, the searing pain gradually receding into a dull throb. Her stomach lurched, and she pushed him away as she expelled the contents of her stomach.

"Sorry," Nova croaked, too mentally and physically drained to muster any sense of embarrassment.

"Don't be, I'd defile this place too if I could."

"Where is…" She inspected her surroundings as her vision returned, a spike of anxiety jabbing her chest as she realised Sebastian was nowhere in sight.

"In there," Ominis said, jerking his chin towards the exposed entryway, the clench of his jaw betraying his attempt to feign calm.

In the heart of the Scriptorium, a desk lay in disarray. Sebastian was thriving among the scattered books and loose parchments, seizing each item with frenzied glee and arranging them into piles with flicks of his wand. He radiated joy as he sifted through the treasures. Nova watched in disgust as he revelled in the spoils of her suffering, not sparing a moment to glance in her direction.

"We need to get out of here," Ominis rose to his feet and extended his hands. Once Nova was balanced, he exhaled steadily, "Noctua?"

"I'm... so sorry," was all she could manage.

Ominis nodded curtly and administered a gentle tug to lure her over the threshold. She staggered on unsteady feet, her vision swirling as panic clogged her throat.

Her legs gave way and buckled beneath her. She braced herself for the fall, but when her eyes snapped open, she was met with the sight of fish drifting past the skylight of the Slytherin common room.

She propped herself up on an elbow and winced at the throbbing behind her eyes.

"How do you feel?" Ominis' voice tugged her back to reality. He was on the adjacent sofa, a leg propped up and resting across his thigh. His bleary voice implied he had likely been sleeping.

"Like shit," she rasped, her throat burning like she'd swallowed a bonfire whole. "Where's Sebastian?"

Ominis exhaled sharply as he slid a glass of water across the table separating them, letting the uneasy silence answer on his behalf.

She was itching to ask if he had found anything that might help Anne, but she sensed it wasn't a topic he was willing to delve into.

"How did I get here?" she asked instead.

"You took some manoeuvring with leviosa."

He relished in her groan of embarrassment as she buried her face into a pillow. Her cheeks burned with humiliation at the thought of him skulking through the corridors with her unconscious body in tow.

"It's nothing I haven't had to do with Sebastian and Anne ten times over."

She let out a weak scoff, forcing herself upright and huddling her aching limbs against her chest. The fire's heat provided some relief, caressing her clammy skin. Ominis looked equally worse for wear, his hair uncharacteristically unkempt with cobwebs draping across the tousled strands like bunting.

"How are you feeling?" she asked, aware this was a far more intricate question for him to navigate.

He drew his knees up to his chin, unintentionally mirroring her posture. The soothing crackle of the fireplace filled the silence as he nervously nibbled his lip.

"It feels like I've lost her twice."

His comment sliced between Nova's ribs, a sharp blow straight to her heart. She pressed her eyes into her knees to let the fabric absorb the welling tears.

"I thought I might—" Ominis began, his fingers dragging down his cheeks, leaving faint red marks in their wake. "Never mind, I'm fine," he concluded abruptly, his stoic mask snapping back into place.

"Would you like to talk about it?"

"No."

Nova dropped her face against her legs, battling to swallow a sob and regain her composure.

"The pain will ease considerably by morning," Ominis informed her, "It's mostly shock that—"

"I'm alright," Nova interrupted, rubbing her sodden eyes with the palm of her hand. "I don't really feel it anymore."

Ominis shifted awkwardly, nudging the glass of water slightly closer. "Is there anything else I can get for you?"

There was only one thing she ached for—one person.

"I want my dad," she choked out before her voice was engulfed in a strangled sob.

"Many of the first years are homesick; you're not alone," Ominis reassured her. "Will you be going home for Christmas?"

"No, I... He doesn't know he has a daughter."

He looked confused but not particularly uncomfortable. Since Alice had labelled her father insane, she'd made a vow to keep his condition to herself—the wizarding world just didn't understand muggle illnesses. However, given the loss of his aunt, Nova felt it might bring Ominis some solace to know he wasn't alone.

"My parents were older when they had me, and there's this... condition. It affects older Muggles. He would forget things, mostly insignificant things, but now and then, he'd forget that me being a witch was something he wasn't meant to talk about. It was... it seemed harmless; our neighbours just thought he was eccentric. But then the Ministry began to notice..."

Ominis chewed on his lip as he listened intently, "What did they do to him?"

"They took him away from me," her fingernails gouged into the sofa. "Obliviated him, threw him in a care facility... it happened so quickly. Suddenly I was at my uncle's, then here. Every letter I receive, I dread it bringing news of his death. I already lost him, but any day now, I'll lose him again." She exhaled a jagged breath, picking at the torn edges of the fabric. "I think... I understand how you feel."

Ominis remained as still as a marble statue for a moment before rising from the sofa. His fingertips traced the table's edge to find his way around it as he moved to sit beside her.

It was a small gesture, but the simple act of solidarity was comforting.

"I'm sorry I didn't tell you about Noctua."

"I knew," he admitted softly. "When Sebastian mentioned the curse, I realised she would have had no one to cast it on." His hands moved across his thigh, and Nova recalled how they had tenderly soothed her stinging skin. "She was all I had, the only family I loved. Who loved me."

"We could go back for her if that's something you want. I don't mind... I could take it again." Her muscles clenched as if telling her she absolutely could not take it again. "I'd take the curse again so you can put her to rest properly."

"Noctua would prefer to remain there than have anyone endure that curse," he sighed, his vacant eyes locking onto hers. "But I appreciate the offer."

She studied his hollowed features, noting a faint trace of red around his tired eyes, accentuating the cloudy blue. Tension wound low in her gut, forcing her to glance away. Her gaze landed on an open book where Ominis had initially been seated. Retrieving her wand, she flipped it over, her curiosity getting the better of her.

"'Great Expectations,'" she read aloud, masking the surprise in her voice. "How does someone like you stumble upon Dickens?"

"'Someone like me?'" He arched an eyebrow. "Purebloods aren't completely oblivious to Muggle literature."

"Are you deliberately provoking your family? Openly reading Muggle novels and befriending a half-blood seems rather daring."

"I'm certain there are more effective ways to get under my father's skin, but it's a decent start. Have you read it?"

"I haven't, no. It's not really my genre."

"What's your genre?"

She paused momentarily, considering her preferences. "Thrillers. Horror. Something suspenseful."

He grimaced. "There's plenty of that in the real world. You should give this a try sometime. There's enough undertones of hardship and misery to keep you somewhat captivated." With a wave of his wand, he closed the book and pulled it onto his lap, suppressing a yawn.

"You should get some sleep; you look exhausted," she told him, secretly hoping he'd object. She couldn't deny that he was rather pleasant company once he dropped his guard. Nevertheless, he nodded and rose to his feet.

"Would you like me to walk you to your dorm?"

"I think I'll stay here for a while, but thank you."

He nodded again, tucking the book under his arm. "Thank you for what you did tonight. Sebastian appreciates it too," he said before leaving her in solitude.

She decided against going to bed that night, choosing instead to wait for Sebastian's return by the fire, but as the hours passed by, he never came back. 

 

Throughout the following day, his absence weighed heavily on her mind. In every class, she stared at his vacant seat, offering a muttered explanation to their professors regarding his supposed illness.

Determined to intercept his return, she spent another night in the common room. With a stack of pillows under one arm and a book in hand, she went to her favourite reading spot by the windows. As she dropped the cushions and nudged them into a somewhat comfortable arrangement, her eyes were drawn to a book resting against the window. Confused, she bent down to retrieve it, her eyes scanning the room in search of its owner. It was mostly empty, save for a few students lingering near the staircase, but she had little desire to engage with the rowdy group of boys.

She examined the cover and bit her lip to contain a smile. Settling among the nest she'd made, she leaned against the window and savoured the cool touch of the icy glass against her flushed cheek. She opened the book and began to read the first chapter of Great Expectations.

Chapter 8

Nova found herself crafting another vague excuse for Professor Shah due to Sebastian's absence, hoping it would be met with some understanding. Her relationship with the astronomy professor had been frosty ever since she overheard Nova brand her a sadist for banning warming charms during her classes. Consequently, Nova had been permanently assigned to the most wind-swept corner of the tower.

"So, you like Ominis now?" Poppy asked, nose wrinkled in confusion as she peered through the telescope. It wasn't the most outlandish conclusion, considering Nova had circled the conversation back to him three times now. "We are talking about Gaunt, aren't we?"

"Do you know more than one Ominis?" Nova huddled closer to her friend as their conversation misted up into the frigid air. "It's still up for debate, like is a strong word."

"It's really not..." Poppy said as she adjusted the focus. "So, the same Ominis you were moaning about a few weeks ago? See, I told you he was nice."

"Mm, nice might be pushing it." Nova squinted at the night sky as she assisted Poppy in locating Orion with her naked eye.

Her vocal interactions with Ominis had been minimal, but a routine had blossomed between them: twice a week, whoever was second to arrive at Professor Binns' class would claim the seat next to the other. Nova's nights were haunted by nightmares since the scriptorium, and the only semblance of unbroken sleep she managed to get was, for some reason, the shared nap they took side by side in History.

"Do you think he's warming up to you too? He did ask you to spend Christmas day with him."

"He invited me to spend it in Feldcroft," Nova corrected, "and I'm fairly certain he was just passing along the message from Sebastian."

Poppy's grin widened. "So, are you going? You could ask Sebastian to deck his house out in mistletoe."

Nova jabbed her in the ribs, prompting a surprised shriek that caught the attention of several neighbouring classmates.

"Girls", Professor Shah's threatening glare bore down on them. "One more disruption, and you'll both earn yourselves detention."

"Apologies, Professor," Poppy mumbled, turning her focus back to the celestial map.

Nova shot a scowl at Shah's retreating figure. "I'm not sure if I'll go. The last time was... uncomfortable," she admitted, recalling the heated clash between Sebastian and Soloman. Her thoughts then drifted to the peaceful forest walk she had shared with Ominis. "Though, I suppose I don't have any better plans." 

 

It took three days for Sebastian to emerge from the scriptorium, his bloodshot eyes a testament to his sleepless nights. He had lugged two trunks filled with Salazar's manuscripts down to the Undercroft, crafting an improvised study and dedicating every second to inspecting the ancient texts. Persuading him to return home for Christmas had proven to be quite a challenge, but Ominis' relentless persistence had ultimately prevailed.

Nova's initial excitement of being the only Slytherin in the castle during holidays had faded rapidly, giving way to overwhelming boredom.

Sat in solitude for her third lonely breakfast, she twirled her spoon through a bowl of yoghurt, engrossed in Ominis' latest literary suggestion.

In just two days, she had devoured Great Expectations. Seizing the opportunity while Ominis dozed off in class, she slid the book into his stack of study materials alongside her favourite novel. This exchange sparked an unspoken game of tucking book recommendations amongst each other's belongings.

She counted the days until her visit to Feldcroft, pondering which novel she should bring to tuck into Ominis' stocking. Her thoughts were interrupted when an owl swooped in, delivering a letter with a gentle flutter.

 

Dear Nova,

There have been several disagreements between Sebastian and Solomon. It might be wise to give them some space; visiting for Christmas might not be the best idea.

Warm regards,

O. Gaunt.

 

Disappointment seeped under her skin as she re-read the letter, praying she had misunderstood its message. Realising that she hadn't sent her heart plummeting to the pit of her stomach. The cluster of students at the adjacent table exchanged concerned glances as she stormed out of the Great Hall, tearing down a pitiful line of tinsel in her frustration.

She slumped into her usual spot by the common room window, giving the letter another scornful skim before crumpling it and flinging it aside. As the day dragged on, she gathered pillows and blankets to construct a nest in the alcove – Opting to forgo lunch, she stared absently at the fish gliding through the murky depths of the black lake.

The sound of footsteps descending the staircase was what ultimately shattered her brooding silence. She resigned herself to ignore whichever Professor had come to check on her, but the clatter of luggage knocking against steps stirred her attention.

The figure turned the corner, shoulders dusted with remnants of snow and suitcase in hand.

"Ominis?"

"Good afternoon," he replied, setting his bag down and shrugging off his coat as if his arrival were the most mundane thing in the world.

"What are you doing here?"

"Didn't you receive my owl? Things are more than unstable between the Sallow's. They should be left alone for the holidays."

Hauling herself out of the pillow fortress, she nearly bowled him over with a fierce hug. He hesitated for a moment before his hand found its way to her back, fingers tentatively grazing the fabric of her jumper with a hesitant pat. A brief silence slotted between them until it was broken by the growling protest of Nova's hungry stomach.

He chuckled lightly, "Are they not feeding you?"

"They make no effort to serve edible food when only seven of us are here."

"Hogsmeade?" Ominis redirected his attention to his trunk, curling his fingers around the handle as he prepared to haul it towards his dorm.

It took her a moment to register it was an invitation, but when she did, her agreement burst out with far more enthusiasm than she had intended. 

 

Ominis strode confidently from the Hogsmeade Floo flames into Honeydukes, barely relying on his wand for guidance. His familiarity with the shop was apparent as he blindly plucked numerous items from the shelves, tossing them into the floating basket that trailed behind him.

"What are you getting?" Ominis asked over his shoulder, tossing another chocolate frog into his expanding collection.

"Probably just some toffees," Nova replied, tapping a box of cockroach clusters on the shelf. She winced at the unsettling sound of tiny legs scratching around inside.

"What? Given your grim description of holiday Hogwarts meals, you should stock up."

"Surely you're not planning to survive on this stuff for two weeks?" She stretched on her tiptoes to grab a container off a high shelf. "I don't get full access to my parents' inheritance until I turn eighteen. At the minute, I'm just on a meagre monthly allowance."

Ominis paused briefly before nudging his basket toward her. "Fill it up."

"Thank you, but I'm fine, I wouldn't want you to spend your money unnecessarily."

"I'm not; I'm spending my father's money unnecessarily." He countered, holding out two soda flavours for her to choose from.

"So, you haven't completely severed ties, then?" She accepted the pumpkin flavour and tossed it into his basket. "I suppose I can't refuse your father's generosity."

"Just remember, you owe me when I'm cut off."

 

They strolled beneath frost-covered branches, choosing to walk the scenic route back to Hogwarts. A bag of every-flavour beans were passed back and forth, Ominis grumbling that Nova was purposely steering him toward the unpleasant ones. Amidst her indignant denial, she glimpsed the Quidditch pitch casting elongated shadows over a blanket of snow.

"How about dinner with a view?" she proposed, shoving the bag of sweets into her cloak pocket.

"I wouldn't know the difference."

Ominis trailed behind as she circled the pitch and assessed which Slytherin tower offered the best vantage point. With a flick of her wand, she incinerated the wooden planks barricading the door and they slipped inside unnoticed.

Ominis sprawled across a bench while Nova settled cross-legged in the row above. She admired the view, captivated by the hypnotic dance of sunlight on the waves of The Black Lake.

"Open your mouth," she commanded, her voice cutting through the mounting wail of the wind as she took hold of a marshmallow.

"Why?"

"Trust me."

Raising himself on his elbow, Ominis obediently tilted his head back with his mouth open. Nova narrowly missed her mark and the sweet bounced off his chin, leaving a dusty residue on impact.

"Say something," he instructed, recovering the wayward confection from his lap and aligning his aim with the sound of her voice.

Nova extended her arm to its full length, snapping her fingers rapidly to create a diversion.

"Dirty cheat." He adjusted his aim to the sound of her laughter and bounced the it off her forehead.

"Ow!"

"Ow? It's a marshmallow, you delicate soul."

"Tell that to my black eye."

"So, you offer yourself to the cruciatus curse twice in a night but capitulate to a marshmallow?" He shook his head with feigned disapproval, "Pathetic."

Nova laughed as she tossed the soiled sweet over the tower's edge. "I appreciate the flattery, but I did vomit and faint."

"Then attended your classes the following day as if nothing ever happened."

Nova smiled at the veiled compliment. She watched as he ran his wand over the selection of sweet packets, deciding on his next snack.

"How do you do that?"

"How do I do what?" He asked, tearing open the box of Bertie Botts that she hadn't already sifted through for the good ones. "What colour is this?"

"Pink," she answered with a glance at the unmistakably black pepper-flavoured bean. "How do you read like that?"

"My wand," Ominis didn't elaborate further, tossing the sweet into his mouth and instantly contorting his face in disgust. Her laughter was cut short as she was pelted with a bean.

"Will you teach me the spell?"

"To read? It's not a spell you cast; my wand just does it." He twirled it between his fingers before offering her the handle.

She closed her eyes and glided his wand over one of the packets. Her inner voice began to speak to her involuntarily as if someone were whispering in the depths of her mind.

"I'm not sure I like that. It feels like I'm possessed."

"Here," he retrieved the most recent book she had slipped into his belongings and tossed it to her. "See if you can manage a whole passage."

She squeezed her eyes shut and attempted to read the words aloud but faltered as her voice intertwined with the compulsive reading in her mind. "A pair of new mutiny hands, unclean foes... Ugh, I can't keep my lines straight." She peered out of one eye to steady the wand.

"If you're peeking, that's cheating," Ominis scolded, moving up to the seat behind her and covering her eyes. "Now, read."

She barely navigated through the first page, her sentences frequently interrupted by Ominis laughing at each fumbled word. Eventually, he lowered his hands, and she regained her rhythm. She was aware of his legs directly behind her and mustering some courage, leant back to rest against them while she read.

She was almost certain he had stopped breathing but as she began to move away, he parted his legs, inviting her to settle snugly between them. With her head resting on his knee, she read the book to him, cover to cover, as the sun began to dip below the horizon. 

 

The biting wind lashed at their skin as they descended the creaking staircase and stepped over the threshold of their warming charm. Ominis gritted his teeth, holding his wand outstretched as the relentless flurry battered his hand. His fingers were turning blue at the tips, and he pulled his thin sleeve up to shield them.

"Put your wand away," Nova ordered, her voice cutting through the howling wind.

Ominis obediently pocketed his wand, and Nova slipped her warm hand into his frozen fingers and steered them towards the castle.

As Nova shouldered the ornate door closed, she expected Ominis to let go of her hand but he maintained his grip and tugged her toward their common room.

"I just want to check the post in case there's any word on my father," she explained, leading him toward the Great Hall. 

 

"I'm afraid there's nothing for you," Nova announced, sifting through the mountain of mail left by the owls. "Ah, there's one here for me, but it looks like Sebastian's handwriting."

"So, he gives you a card?" Ominis feigned a scowl, precariously picking at a wax seal on a abandoned howler.

"Jealous that I'm the favourite?"

Ignoring her comment, he slid his hand back into hers. "Come on, I want to go warm up."

"Gaunt?" An ostentatious voice rolled its way down through the hall, and Ominis dropped Nova's hand as if it were on fire.

"Headmaster."

Nova dissected Professor Black's imposing figure from head to toe as he strode towards them. "I wasn't expecting you here during the holidays, sir."

The headmaster paid no heed to her comment as he halted in front of them. "I presumed you'd escort my niece to dinner tonight, Gaunt. Why are you here?"

"Excuse me, sir?"

"Your father's Yule feast," Professor Black said impatiently, his fingers tapping a staccato rhythm against the wooden table.

"I don't speak to my parents, Professor. I won't be attending their Yule feast."

"You shouldn't be roaming the halls; you ought to be preparing for such an event," he cautioned, barely acknowledging Ominis' reply as he peered down his nose at his pocket watch.

"He said he won't be attending," Nova snapped sharply, an unexpected twinge of jealousy piercing her composure.

Professor Black recoiled as if she had sprung out of the ground. "And what exactly are you?"

"A person?"

"Nova is the new sixth-year student, sir," Ominis interjected, nudging her with his elbow.

"Ah, yes, the one with the... unconventional parentage," he remarked, his expression turning sour. "Yes, well, you can run along. And straighten your posture, you'll give yourself psychosis."

Nova's nose scrunched in confusion. "Do you mean scoliosis?"

"What did you call me?"

"Nothing, sir," Ominis replied quickly, his voice dripping with forced respect. "We were just leaving."

 

Questions were swirling in Nova's mind. Why did Professor Black assume Ominis would accompany Alice to events if their betrothal had truly been dissolved? Why did Black care? It almost felt as though he had been actively seeking Ominis out. She tore open her letter, hoping a Christmas card from Sebastian might provide a welcome distraction for her agitated mind. 

 

Dear Nova,

I have made a discovery within Feldcroft catacombs, but I need your help in gaining access. Meet me there tomorrow after dark. Please refrain from disclosing this to Ominis.

With anticipation,

Sebastian.

 

"Oh, for fuck's sake," she sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose. She studied the letter again, lingering on the final sentence, before shoving it into her pocket and shelving the issue for later. 

 

With a few rigid flicks of his wand, Ominis rearranged the common room, hauling one of the plush leather sofas in front of the crackling fireplace. He made himself comfortable, enjoying some taffy and engrossing himself in a book. Nova dragged over her accumulation of blankets and pillows from the alcove and sunk into the opposite end of the sofa.

As the hours ticked by, Nova grappled between not wanting to wake Ominis and the increasing discomfort that urged her to search for a more comfortable position.

While attempting to free her leg from a tangle of blankets, Ominis reached out and snatched her ankle. "If you don't stop kicking me, I'm shoving you to the floor."

"How long have you been awake?"

"I haven't been asleep," he muttered, sweeping away the hair tumbling across his drowsy face. "You're so wriggly."

"I'm just trying to get comfy. Why are these sofas so hard?" Nova shifted again, the abrasive sound of her skin peeling off leather filling the room as she settled into a more comfortable spot.

"Then go to bed," Ominis grumbled, burying his face in the crook of his elbow.

A tense silence hung heavily between them, and Nova couldn't shake the feeling that he knew exactly why she chose the agony of the sofa over the solitude of her dormitory.

"Do you want me to?" she challenged, deciding to call his bluff.

She squirmed again to ease the persistent ache in her back. Ominis misunderstood her intentions, clamping down on her ankle to prevent her from leaving.

"No," he mumbled from under his arm.

Chapter 9

Dear Nova,

I have made a discovery within Feldcroft catacombs, but I need your help in gaining access. Meet me there tomorrow after dark. Please refrain from disclosing this to Ominis.

With anticipation,

Sebastian.

 

Nova's fingernails were chewed down to jagged slivers. Her eyes darted between the letter and Ominis as she grappled with the decision to confide in him. He was blissfully unaware, fast asleep at the far end of the sofa and mostly obscured by a blanket. His unruly hair covered his face as he nestled into the crook of his elbow, one arm draped across Nova's legs.

She was reluctant to disturb him, but with the clock above the fireplace ticking closer to midday, she couldn't ignore that she only had a few short hours before Sebastian would be expecting her.

"Ominis?"

She shifted her legs, prompting an indignant moan from beneath the covers. With some proficient sofa-digging, she unearthed her wand and summoned heat into a teapot resting on the table.

Her eyes were glued to Ominis as he fought himself upright, her cheeks burning as she beheld his morning appearance. It was a stark departure from his usual uniformity—dishevelled, dressed in his snug, black jumper that hugged his form, with the faint imprints of the sofa's upholstery stamped across his beauty marks.

"Good morning," he croaked, mustering a valiant effort to tame his hair back into its customary neat style.

She tore her attention away from him to fill two mugs with tea. "Morning. How did you sleep?"

"Fine, once you stopped flopping around."

"It took a lot of restraint; I hope you appreciate it," She inched a beverage into his hands and nestled comfortably against the backrest.

Ominis indulged in a stretch, impressively keeping the liquid upright throughout the gesture. "So, what's on the agenda for our Christmas Eve?" he asked, blowing away the rising steam.

Nova's mind lacked creative inspiration; she only wanted to retreat to the Quidditch tower and waste the day away.

"We could put that Quidditch pitch to good use?" she suggested, retrieving his abandoned packet of taffy. "You can teach me how to play."

"How well do you think the visually impaired can navigate the skies?"

"Oh, well, I guess that rules out a broom race through the halls," She nibbled on her sickly-sweet breakfast, joking to cloak her genuine disappointment.

 "Any suggestions that don't involve me crashing headfirst into a brick wall?"

"We could venture into the Forbidden Forest and see what all the fuss is about. There's hardly any faculty around to stop us."

A faint mist of tea accompanied his startled choke at her proposal. "Are you winding me up or trying to get us killed? I don't appreciate either."

"You're such a wimp," she taunted, jogging his arm with her foot.

He retaliated by digging his fingertips into her kneecap, causing a startled squeal as a tidal wave sloshed into her lap. His laughter stopped abruptly when she tossed the soggy end of the blanket at his face.

"All right then, what are your suggestions?"

"You know what I've always dreamed of doing?" His face lit up as he rubbed off the droplets with his sleeve. "Treat myself to a bath in the prefects' bathroom."

"… That's it? We have the entire castle to ourselves, and taking a bath is your top choice?"

"Clearly you haven't been briefed on this bathroom. It's rumoured to be gigantic, with a hundred taps. And the bubbles..." He kissed his fingertips as if words failed to capture the sheer luxury of those bubbles.

"All right," she conceded, sinking into a pile of cushions. "So, my Christmas Eve agenda is guarding a door while you indulge in a bath."

His fingers lightly drummed against the porcelain teacup as he spoke, a slight rouge staining his cheeks. "If you do a commendable job, I'll allow you to escort me to the Quidditch tower for dinner."

She bit her lip, hesitant to dampen his good spirits. "So, I meant to tell you, I might not be around for dinner tonight..." Her fingers threaded through her hair as she grappled with the best way to broach the topic. "That letter I received from Sebastian yesterday. It wasn't a card. He's found something and asked me to meet him."

Ominis exhaled loudly, pushing the blankets off his lap to sit upright. "Where?"

"Feldcroft catacombs."

"Catacombs?" he echoed, his pale skin taking on a ghostlier hue. "You're not going, are you?"

"I'm not thrilled about it, but if I refuse, we know he'll go anyway. And if we had allowed him to go alone the last time..."

She regretted her words when a pained expression overtook his features. She couldn't bring herself to articulate it, but the thought of Sebastian meeting the same fate as his aunt, dying trapped and alone, was enough to solidify her decision.

"What if he tries to cast that curse again? Your tactic of rousing him to anger won't work again," Ominis pushed himself off the sofa, his steps tracing a circuit around it as he brooded. "I could go instead; maybe I can dissuade him from going?"

Nova shook her head, determined to uphold the appearance of loyalty despite her difficulty keeping secrets. "He asked me not to tell you. If we want to convince him to abandon this idea, I'm not sure betraying his trust is the best course of action."

"Then why did you tell me?"

Nova couldn't pinpoint why the question made her squirm, but it did. She had never felt fear as paralysing as under the Cruciatus Curse, writhing on the ground, surrounded by dark magic with a corpse nearby. Perhaps Ominis' being a lighthouse in the storm had made him somewhat of a comfort.

"I wanted to," she said flatly, her hands finding a place on his shoulders to halt his restless pacing. "If I haven't returned by morning, I need you to send for help."

 

Nova squinted through the darkness as she skidded along the icy path to the catacombs. The silhouette of Rookwood castle was just a shadow against the blackened sky, but she could feel its weight bearing down on her from the cliffs above. As she finally approached the entrance, she caught sight of a figure pacing back and forth.

"Sebastian!" she cried out, stumbling on her final steps. She managed to fling her arms around him, relishing the warmth amidst the piercing gale. "There better be a good reason for dragging me out here."

He squeezed her tightly for a moment before ushering her into the shelter of the cave.

"I found a report in Salazar's belongings," he wasted no time getting to the point, his fingers a blur as he sifted through a mass of loose parchment. "It mentions a relic hidden in a catacomb. It's linked to an ancient magic capable of wielding dark curses, and the castle where Anne was cursed stands on top of this catacomb. It can't be a coincidence."

"Sebastian, you swore you'd take a break during the holidays," she scolded, noticing the dark circles beneath his eyes were etched deeper than before. "And what about Soloman? How's he reacting to all this?"

"He has no clue, I promise," he replied, somewhat missing the point.

"This doesn't seem like the most promising lead. The scriptorium was one thing, but this seems incredibly... public."

"Well, according to this report, it shouldn't be. It mentions a vaulted door, only accessible by a Slytherin descendant, but look," Sebastian ran his fingers down the jagged edge of a metal doorframe nestled within the cave's grooves, "someone has torn it right off the hinges."

Nova shot him a side-eye. For someone so intelligent, he sure was dumb.

"And you want to follow in the footsteps of someone capable of this?"

She cinched her scarf tighter around her neck, optimistically preparing for the commute back to Hogwarts. "If there was a relic here, it's evidently long gone."

"We'll just poke our heads in, have a look around. It's not like the scriptorium; the door is wide open for you to walk out again If you're uncomfortable."

Nova extended her hand from beneath her sleeve, summoning a feeble light that flickered into the gloomy nooks of the catacombs. She scanned the depths, and after a tense moment where no imminent danger leapt out to claim their lives, she turned to Sebastian, meeting his pleading puppy-dog eyes with a nod of assent.

 

Hundreds of candles tucked away in stony recesses flickered to life as Sebastian stormed past them. His voice echoed through the tunnel, gradually fading as Nova struggled to keep pace. "You haven't told Ominis about meeting me, have you?"

She nibbled at the dry skin on her lip, her mind racing to conjure a plausible answer. "Sebastian, we're the only Slytherins at Hogwarts, and Ominis isn't an idiot. There's only a few places he'd assume I've gone."

His prolonged silence indicated his dissatisfaction with her response.

"I presumed you two wouldn't interact much, given how he's been acting. He'd be furious if he knew what we were doing."

Nova frowned at the back of his head, "What do you mean, how he's been acting?"

"I don't know, but something was eating at him. He only lasted three days before muttering some excuse about needing to be left alone and returning to Hogwarts."

"Maybe your disagreements with Soloman were weighing on him."

"I don't think so. We've been fine," Sebastian paused for a moment before adding, "Well, we haven't been any worse than usual."

Things are more than unstable between the Sallow's. They should be left alone for the holidays.

Nova was confused. Ominis' reasoning had left little room for interpretation. Before she could pick apart his intentions, Sebastian illuminated his wand—The sudden onslaught of light stabbing into her corneas and leaving her momentarily dazed.

He wrinkled his nose in distaste at the musty odour wafting from the path ahead, which was barely visible through a shroud of thick cobwebs. Nova gingerly ignited them; the smouldering strands lit the passage, and in the fleeting light, she saw a twitch in the shadows.

She had scarcely muttered the lumos incantation before a force erupted from the tunnel, striking her face and sending her sprawling backwards. She clutched her cheek, feeling the warmth of her blood coating her trembling fingers. Her breath was ripped from her lungs as she was hurled into the air, and her body slammed back into the rock.

Chunks of grit rained down from the ceiling as Sebastian unleashed a blast from his wand, striking the acromantula with such force it hurtled into the cavern wall. The arachnid rebounded with a thunderous blow, sprawling onto the ground before burrowing beneath the earth.

Nova's muscles strained against the weight of her body as she fought to her feet and scoured the terrain for any sign of the beast. Before she could fully regain her bearings, a horde of infant acromantula poured out of the tunnel, their razor-sharp limbs slashing at her ankles. She ignited her wand and reduced the vicious creatures to smouldering ash.

"Sebastian?" she rasped before the colossal spider burst from the earth, quaking the cavern and threatening to bury them alive.

Nova unleashed a searing fireball at the creature's wiry body, releasing a deafening screech as it thrashed wildly.

A boulder was heaved off the ground and launched through the air. She braced herself as it collided with the creature, obliterating it and scattering shards of rock and molten flesh across the cave.

Nova blinked rapidly against the blinding red beacon assaulting her eyes. As the dust settled, the figure attached to the flashing light reached out and pulled her to her feet. "We need to get out of here."

"Are you serious? You've just cleared our path; I'm not turning back now." Sebastian brushed the dirt from his hair and pressed forward without a word of thanks to Ominis for their rescue.

"Should we go after him?" Nova tried to articulate, but her words fell out in a strangled wheeze. She brushed the dirt from her face, yelping as her fingers grazed a thick gash.

"Are you hurt?"

"It just clipped my face; I'm fine."

Ominis ran his fingertips down her cheek until he met the jagged edge of a thick wound that sliced from her ear to her eyebrow.

"We need to get you to the hospital wing," he insisted. His words had scarcely left his lips when a distressed cry from Sebastian rolled up through the tunnel.

"We can't leave him."

"You go, I'll get Sebastian." The shadows of the cavern swallowed him slowly as he inched towards the passage. "I'll come find you. If we're not back by morning, get help."

He disappeared into the darkness.

Nova staggered for a moment, absorbing the gruesome carnage splattered across the cave before trailing after him.

 

Sebastian paced restlessly around the circular tomb, his heavy footfalls crunching over charred remains of infant acromantula that lay strewn at his feet.

"Don't open the coffins," he cautioned with a ragged breath.

"It wasn't at the top of my list of priorities," Nova appeared by Ominis' side, who let out a weary sigh at her presence.

"You shouldn't be down here."

"Neither should you. I specifically asked you to—"

Before she could lay into him, he cast a lumos straight at her face without warning.

If one of these boys assaulted her sight one more time, she was seriously considering sealing them in.

"Sebastian, how bad is Nova's wound?"

Sebastian had been running his fingertips along some etchings he'd discovered on the walls, blowing away chunks of dust from the grooves. It took him a moment to tear his eyes away and throw a glance at Nova's blood-stained face. His response to Ominis' question was a flat, "Oh, shit," which wasn't particularly comforting. "Are you okay?"

"No, she's not okay. We need to get her to the infirmary."

Sebastian shifted his focus back to the symbols. "You should take her. I can't leave without thoroughly searching this place."

"I won't leave without both of you." Nova was straining to hide that her legs were on the verge of buckling. The adrenaline had waned, and the pain from her slashed ankles was clawing higher up her legs. With every blink, the grit clinging to her skin burrowed deep into her eyes. "I'm fine," she insisted, tears streaming down her cheeks.

"Oh, for Merlin's sake."

"Ominis, if she says she's fine, trust her judgment. The sooner we explore this place, the quicker we can get her to the nurse, so you might as well lend a hand."

Sebastian ignited his wand and seared away layers of dried vines, the firelight accentuating a rugged groove etched into the wall.

"It looks like the number four," Nova said.

"Sebastian."

"It's not a four," he brushed off Ominis' disapproval. "It's the wand movement for the Imperius Curse."

Nova's vision swam, and she grasped one of the protruding posts near the wall for support, recoiling in abject horror when she realised it was crafted from human vertebrae. Her stomach twisted violently when she crunched onto the skeletal remains scattered around the sarcophagus.

"Why are there so many bones outside of a casket?" she asked, examining the columns of backbone encircling the coffin, each crowned with a flickering flame. "Here, give me a hand with this."

"I thought opening coffins wasn't a priority." Sebastian joined her side, his muscles tensing as he lent his strength to shift the heavy lid aside. Guiding her wand through the crack, they found it devoid of any remains. The only feature was an inscription of an archway crafted from bones by two spine pillars.

Nova gestured toward the towers of vertebrae towering beside the Imperius engraving.

"I knew enlisting your help was a good idea. I felt it in my bones," Sebastian turned to her with his mouth agape, awaiting his applause. Instead, he received a cloud of dust from the rotting coffin swiped in his direction. "So, I cast the Imperius Curse and have you make an archway with these bones. Sounds straightforward."

His words and the ensuing visceral memory of cruciatus struck Nova like a knife to the chest, but Ominis' hesitant steps offered some semblance of comfort as he approached them.

"I'll take the curse, Sebastian."

Sebastian cast the Imperius Curse without a hint of hesitation, ensuring that no second thoughts could cross Ominis' mind.

The curse crashed into him like a thunderbolt. A surge of azure lightning crackled across his body before illuminating his eyes with an otherworldly glow as he stood to attention. Sebastian's unwavering stare pierced into Ominis, who, in silent obedience, executed the unspoken command. His wand sliced through the air, commanding the scattered piles of bones to rise and intertwine, forming an archway that spanned the gap between the two spine posts.

The wall crumbled away, and Nova winced as a fresh wave of grit invaded her senses, exacerbating the cuts on her battered legs. Behind it was a chamber no larger than a broom closet, with a stone cube intricately carved into the cave's natural rock. The object instantly captured Sebastian's attention, breaking Ominis free from the grip of the curse.

"Are you alright?" Nova caught his elbow as he swayed, the eerie light in his eyes fading into their standard milky blue. He nodded.

"This isn't the relic, but I've seen this before," Sebastian muttered, primarily to himself, his hands shaking as he frantically sifted through the crumpled papers in his cloak pocket. He shoved them back in individually, growing more agitated when he couldn't locate the specific page. "It must be back in the Undercroft; we have to get back there."

The congealed blood clinging to Nova's eyelashes made retracing her steps through the cavern agonisingly unbearable. Every light dip or groove made her stumble. Sand dug deeper into her raw tear ducts with each attempt to scrape it out. When she crashed into a wall for the second time, Ominis called back to ask if she was alright.

"I'm okay, just can't see."

A clammy hand landed on her forearm, trailing down to clasp her hand and tug her through the tunnel. They followed his wand's sporadic crimson glow and staggered back to the Feldcroft Floo.

 

Nova drew in a trembling breath, the common room's warmth soothing the lingering chill on her skin. She scanned the room for Sebastian but assumed he had chosen a more direct path to the Undercroft when Ominis appeared alone.

"I don't want to go to the hospital wing," she told him before he could insist on it. She leant her weight against the cold wall, not yet ready to tackle the staircase. "Too many questions, and I'm not a good liar."

Ominis brushed the snow from his hair, his hand still marked by the stubborn stains of her dried blood. "Good thinking. A sizable scar will raise no questions."

"The cuts aren't that deep," she lied. "I just need to wash the grit out."

A smile battled through his concerned frown. "I know just the place to run you a phenomenal bath."

She rested her head on his shoulder, mustering a feeble laugh. "Yes, please."

 

With a gleeful flourish of his wand, Ominis activated all one hundred taps at once, unleashing a torrent of soothing, lavender-scented steam. Instantly, it began to work its magic, relaxing her burning muscles.

"I'll be outside if you need anything."

Panic clawed its way up to her chest as he began to leave, a lingering sense of claustrophobia stemming from her near-death experience in the catacombs.

"Ominis?" She called before the door could fully close. She walked toward him, silently cursing her own vulnerability. "Would it be alright if you stayed here with me? If you're comfortable with that, of course."

His knuckles turned bone-white as he tightened his grip on the doorknob, his cheeks flushing a startling shade of crimson. Her heart sank, and she immediately regretted her words—She’d overstepped a boundary.

"I thought... Just...that you wouldn’t look," she giggled weakly.

Her attempt to diffuse the tension failed, and a few seconds of painful silence hung between them as Ominis struggled to articulate something.

As she hovered on the brink of slamming the door in his face and shutting him out of her life forever, he leaned in, his lips finding hers in a clumsy, unexpected kiss. She froze. Suspended between her prior humiliation and an intoxicating rush of giddiness. He pulled back, equally as surprised by his own impulsiveness.

She reached for him, her fingers threading through the soft strands of his blonde hair, drawing him back in for another kiss as she guided him back through the doorway.

Chapter 10

Nova's fingers laced through Ominis' hair as she guided him back across the threshold. His arm wrapped around her waist, holding her against him as they stumbled in tandem. His other hand rose to her face, but as his fingertips grazed the gouge carved across her cheek, Nova recoiled from him with a sharp hiss.

Ominis looked shocked, then upset, then downright furious. He fumbled for a handle before muttering a terse "Excuse me" and stormed out the doorway.

The ensuing slam gave way to retreating footfalls echoing down the hall. Nova fought to draw breath, brushing her thumb over the lingering sensation of him on her lips.

Her memories were shrouded in a thick mental fog. She couldn't muster any details between waking up with Ominis earlier that morning and finding herself now, staring blankly at a swirling pool of bubbles. All she knew for certain was the lavender-scented water beckoned to her with each melodious ripple against the tiles, so that's where she directed her focus.

She winced in pain as she peeled off her clothes, patches of the fabric heavily saturated with coagulated blood. Whimpering softly, she eased herself into the water and wrapped her body in a veil of frothy foam.

The stained glass mermaid filtered the moonlight into muted hues that danced across the soothing wavelets. Nova floated onto her back, the pull of the water teased her hair into its depths and her mind along with it

Her meditation was cut short by a jarring rap at the door. It took her a moment to register Ominis' return, clutching a nurse's satchel which had likely been pilfered from the hospital wing. 

He muttered what she assumed was an apology, his cheeks flushing crimson at the inappropriate intrusion. "I... The nurse was on to me."

Had it not been for the thick blanket of bubbles, she might have felt embarrassed too, but they concealed more of her skin than her clothing had. Though, she supposed his visual impairment concealed enough.

"You're fine. I'm fully clothed," she told him, just to see if he'd believe it.

He huffed in lieu of a reply and turned towards a nearby bench, rummaging through the contents of his stolen goods. "This won't fully heal you. You'll be scarred unless you decide to wise up and go see a nurse."

The back of his head was awarded an irritated glare. He turned to toss a vial in her direction, and the small container sank through the bubbles, disappearing somewhere beside her.

"Thanks."

She made no effort to retrieve it.

He pulled some bandages from the bag and flung them onto a chair before striding toward the door.

"Ominis, are we alright?" she called after him.

"We're fine."

"Are you alright?"

He halted, his grip on the doorknob so tight his knuckles turned white under the pressure. "I'd prefer if we could just forget tonight ever happened."

She would have interrogated him further, but dealing with his tantrum exceeded her current mental capacity.

"Forgotten," she said flatly, knowing her immediate surrender would ruffle his feathers.

He drummed agitatedly on the doorknob before loosening his grip and turning around, his feathers duly ruffled.

"If someone were to… If my family were to assume I had any involvement with..." A wave of self-disgust contorted his features as he choked on a word.

Half-blood.

The pain had been more bearable when she was slammed against a cave floor.

"Understood."

"I don't mean it like that." he snapped, shoving his thumb and forefinger into his eyes.

"How else am I supposed to interpret it?"

She could barely detect his silhouette dithering by the doorframe, veiled by billowing steam and the haze of tears threatening to spill.

"You should leave."

Not one to follow orders, as evidenced by his punctual arrival in the catacombs, he slumped cross-legged at the bath's edge. His fingers combed through the grit on his cheeks, leaving angry red marks in their wake.

"I didn't mean it to come out like that." He repeated the sentiment, gathering a handful of bubbles. They stewed in an oppressive silence as he bounced the frothy cluster between his palms.

"I'm presuming Sebastian has divulged more about my private life than you'll be willing to admit."

"Possibly."

"I suspected as much." His brow was creased into a frown, but the usual fire in his tone was absent. "As far as my parents are concerned, there hasn't been any formal cancellation of plans."

"What's that supposed to mean?" Her body sagged against the side of the bath, too depleted to pick up what he was putting down.

"Living with Sebastian serves everyone's interests. My family don't have to look at me, and I'm spared of their presence... but they still view me as their commodity, and when they have a use for me, they'll want me home."

"Sebastian told me you were emancipated."

"That's what we tell everyone, and it's what I like to believe." He sent the bubbles scattering into the air with a decisive clap. "But I'm under constant surveillance; I must second-guess every move I make."

"By Black?"

He nodded, "and Alice."

Nova wrung her hands together, the mention of his prospective wife igniting a pang of jealousy.

"Have you had any recent encounters with her?" Ominis asked, submerging his hands into the water to embark on the task of scrubbing acromantula guts from his skin.

"Not since you pushed her down the stairs."

"She believes that was you. You shouldn't have taken the blame," he shifted to clean the other arm despite the first still being marred in a watery brown tinge. "Do you remember one of the first things I ever said to you?"

"That I'm ignorant?" she asked, the opportunity to deliver a jab lifting her spirits slightly. "Or that I was framing Sebastian?"

He dipped his foot into the water and launched a splash in her direction.

"Ew, don't pollute my bath with your grotty foot," she shot back, retaliating with a well-aimed splatter that drenched his sullied hair.

"I warned you that Alice's bite is worse than her bark."

"Alice doesn't scare me."

"She terrifies me," he confessed with a heavy sigh before arriving at his point. "I can assure you, she's been waiting to uncover something to use against you. She'd waste no time running straight to my brother if she suspected something between you and me."

"Are you intending to live by your parents' rules forever?"

"I have to somewhat, until I'm eighteen at least, and even then..." He didn't need to finish his sentence; Nova knew the tactics his family employed to get their way. "I have plans, but there's no place in them for anyone else."

Despite being on the receiving end of their kiss, she felt rejected. She couldn't muster the energy to point it out.

"Got it."

"Would you like me to leave?"

She didn't want him to, but her pride prevented her from asking him to stay. She kept silent, hoping he'd get the hint—and he did. Shrugging off his jumper and rolling up his shirt sleeves, he ran his wet fingers through his hair, dislodging clumps of thick dirt that amalgamated into a muddy sludge.

"I can't see anything through all the bubbles and steam. You can hop in and wash your hair if you want to."

"Have you been paying attention to anything I've said?"

"I absorbed about twenty percent. I'm pretty sure that spider gave me a concussion," She took pleasure in his exasperated groan. "Anyway, there's nothing scandalous about two friends sharing a bath fully clothed."

"I know you're not fully clothed."

"A slanderous accusation. I will be notifying Black."

"Don't even joke about it."

"Ominis, he's not policing the bath schedule on Christmas Eve." Her lungs were beginning to ache from the exertion of conversation. "I understand where you're coming from. I'm just... I could have been killed tonight. I can absorb only so much dysfunctional family drama right now."

She sank under the water before he could respond, savouring the blissful silence. Her tension dissipated into the gentle ripples of the water as she exhaled slowly, descending to the floor to begin unravelling the tangled knots from her hair.

When she emerged with a gasp, Ominis was on his feet, ready to leave. He shifted his weight between them uneasily. "I'd appreciate it if you kept what I've shared with you to yourself, for both of our sakes."

"What happens in the prefect's bathroom stays in the prefect's bathroom," she assured him, eyes clamped shut as she rubbed away the droplets infiltrating them. She anticipated the closing of the door, but after a prolonged pause, she instead heard Ominis withdraw his wand and whisper an incantation. A swath of black fabric was conjured and wrapped tightly around her eyes.

"Really?" Her hand struck the water's surface indignantly. "You could have just asked me not to look."

The rustle of fabric hitting the floor was shortly followed by splashes at the opposite end of the bath. The waves of his entry lapped against her neck.

"Can I get rid of this now?" She tried to adjust the fabric covering her face, but her hand recoiled involuntarily before she could remove it. "What... Have you brought your wand into the bath?!"

"I bring my wand everywhere," the distance in his voice suggested he hadn't ventured past the steps. Nevertheless, she counted it a victory that he had chosen to join her.

"You make quite a racket for someone aiming to keep a low profile," she said, alluding to the cacophony of splashes as he lathered his hair.

"You said it yourself: no one will be wandering the halls at two o'clock on Christmas morning."

"Oh, shit!" She jumped, colliding with a tap and further adding to her assortment of injuries. "Merry Christmas!"

"Mmm-hmm. You too."

"What have you asked Santa for this year?" she persisted, trying to coax some holiday cheer out of him.

"To be dragged into a catacomb and cursed, and yourself?"

"Santa's diligent tonight," she said, feeling a lightness in her heart when he chuckled. "Thank you for taking the curse, by the way. How bad was it?"

"Not quite as dire as the Cruciatus Curse, but still unpleasant. I know I'm not, but I keep feeling like I'm still under its influence."

"You're not, I assure you. I watched it drain from your eyes. Though, you can pretend you were still under when you kissed me if you want."

They floated silently for a few minutes before Ominis broke it.

"What happened with the acromantula? You had the ingenious idea to set its home on fire; what happened after that?"

"I can't... really remember." Nova entertained the possibility she might genuinely have a concussion. "It hit me before I could even grasp what was happening. Sebastian wrestled it off, but not before it slammed me into the ground... It burrowed into a crack at one point, I think?"

"So, picture me about a minute behind you. I heard shouting and some deafening crunches, then it fell silent."

Guilt churned in Nova's stomach. "You thought it had killed us."

"For a moment, yes, I did. I admit tonight has seen me make a few impulsive decisions, but I was genuinely shaken. I hope you can understand."

"That's why you kissed me; you were still reeling from my death?" Her cheeks inflated with stifled laughter. "When's Sebastian getting his?"

Her brain responded too slowly, and the splash stung as it smacked her squarely in the face.

"Ow! Don't do that. I'm broken."

"Use the dittany, you idiot," he scolded, though there was a hint of a smile.

Nova's toes groped along the bottom of the bath until they located the vial. She unhooked the latch with clumsy fingers and felt the warm oil spill across her hand. She slapped it onto the deep wound, prying her fingers under the blindfold to rub it in. The pain immediately subsided into a dull throb.

"Is there any more in that bag? I spilt it before I could get my legs."

"Legs?" he repeated, clearly unimpressed. "Sliced your face and your legs, likely gave you a concussion, and you still don't want to see the nurse?" She heard him grab the satchel from the side of the bath and rummage through it. A splash accompanied his warning of "incoming."

"Could you stop throwing them at me? I can't see shit."

"Welcome to the club."

"I'm a new member. I don't have seventeen years of echolocation experience."

His laugh got cut off as he ducked beneath the water, resurfacing a moment later, wiping water from his face. "Here."

Her fingers collided with his outstretched hand, and a rush of heat scurried through her at the connection.

"Thanks," she idly rolled the vial between her fingers without any immediate intention of applying its contents. "Don't tell the matron I spilt her dittany. That woman terrifies me."

"Don't tell her I stole it, and I won't mention the spillage."

"Deal."

"What happens in the prefect's bathroom stays in the prefect's bathroom."

He'd established his boundaries, but that comment felt too much like an invitation.

Nova extended her hand, which met his chest with an almost immediate collision.

A fingertip skimmed along her cheekbone, sweeping aside the damp locks clinging to her skin. The fabric of the blindfold was slipped over her head before being tossed into the bubbles.

Nova stole a precious moment to savour the sight before her. Constellations of beauty marks adorned his moonlit shoulders, while strands of untamed hair framed his piercing pale eyes. His feather-light touches were mapping every rise and fall of her features as if he were sculpting each detail into his mind.

Their incompatibilities were scratching at the door, but in this isolated pocket of the castle, they held no influence. The worlds between them were drawn into the ripples of the water until there was enough space for them to meet halfway.

"Your verdict?" she asked, her voice barely a whisper, afraid even the slightest sound could spook him like a startled deer.

"I don't have much to compare it to," he admitted, "but... pleasant." He stepped closer, pinning her against the cool tiles and their foreheads meeting in a light clash.

"I'll take pleasant."

His sigh of surrender brushed against her skin as she slowly pressed her lips to his. He continued his exploration, weaving his fingers through the strands at the nape of her neck. His hands were carrying droplets that trickled down her skin, and she longed for his lips to follow their lead.

She breathed his name, and it felt like a invitation.

Their breathing quickened, lips bound as if the only air worth inhaling was of that shared between them. His fingers curled into a fist at the base of her skull and the ensuing tug pulled a soft moan from her throat.

Ominis stilled, and everything was silent.

"We should go," he muttered so faintly that Nova barely registered his words, but the sting of disappointment struck again when his lips parted from hers.

Nova’s mind was spinning too wildly to track his movements with her eyes, fixating instead on the void of scattered bubbles from where he had just withdrawn.

"Here."

She finally glanced up upon hearing his voice.

He had managed to pry open the prefects' lockers and helped himself to a black cloak, extending another toward her. He waited as she struggled to extract herself from the bath and cocooned her dripping body in the robe.

Any trace of emotion was concealed behind a mask of stoicism as he drained the bath and vanished their soiled clothes.

He strode over the threshold without hesitation, abandoning their secrets to the guardianship of the stained glass mermaid watching them leave.

 

When they emerged from the Slytherin floo, the common room was empty. Sebastian would presumably hole up in the Undercroft to study for the foreseeable future.

"Would you like me to walk you to your dorm?" Ominis offered as he gradually backed towards his own.

Nova's eyes flitted towards the sofa, where their makeshift nest of pillows awaited.

Stay with me.

"I'm alright, thank you."

"Alright. Merry Christmas, Nova. Goodnight."

She watched the crimson glow of his wand wane into the shadows of the corridor, praying it would flare back to life alongside his change of heart.

It didn’t.

Chapter 11

Nova brushed away the dried dusting of soil from the devil's snare's tangled roots. Her Herbology partner was using his wand's light to keep the vines at bay while enthusiastically recounting the tale of his family's Christmas party.

"So, that's when it dawned on me that I'd spiked the eggnog with a tad too much brandy," Garreth regaled, his eager hands waving dangerously close to the dormant tendrils. "Aunt Matilda is down for the count..."

Nova stifled a laugh at the thought of their respectable conjuration professor blackout drunk. Her laughter morphed into a jolt of panic as Garreth's flailing hands triggered a response from the roots.

"Garreth, focus!"

"Shit, my bad," he mumbled, regaining control as she finished clearing the last traces of dirt. "So anyway, we're pretty sure Aunt Matilda's dead at this point, but then she sits up and demands we bring her a man."

Nova's throat clenched around a stifled snort, prompting Garreth to erupt into a fit of giggles. The daring plant seized the moment and snaked its vines around Nova's fingers.

"Watch out!" Garreth amusement dissolved into urgency as he conjured a beam of light to repel the advancing vines.

"Now, my dear class," Professor Garlick began to chastise gently. "Like a botanist carefully studies every leaf and petal, let's pay close attention to the details of our actions..."

Garreth and Nova exchanged sheepish glances before refocusing their attention on the task at hand.

"How about you? How was your Christmas?" His gaze flickered across the scar marring her face, though he chose to keep his observation to himself.

"I didn't really do much," Nova replied honestly. She had devoted most of Christmas Day to recuperating in bed. Throughout the remainder of the holidays, aside from her occasional efforts to convince Sebastian to rest, Nova's interactions with him and Ominis had been minimal.

"I was the only Slytherin here, so it turned out to be quite a dull affair," she added, glancing at Sebastian and Ominis hunched over their assignment on the opposite side of the bench, hoping they caught the dig.

"Wait, you were here? At Christmas?" Garreth wiped the back of his hand across his frown, painting a streak of mud across his smattering of freckles. "Had I known, you'd have been invited to witness Professor Weasley inebriated. Consider this an early invitation for next year."

"That's very kind..." Nova's attempt to respectfully decline the invitation was interrupted by a rip in a sealed bag of hippogriff manure. The resulting burst open and pelted Garreth with the fusty, dried-out chunks.

Sebastian fought back a cackle, but his endeavours failed spectacularly. He pushed Ominis as if reprimanding him. The blind wizard was clutching his wand in his usual stance, but his knuckles were whitening from the oddly tight grip.

Nova stooped to their level and summoned over the hovering watering can, dousing them in a torrent of plant food.

Professor Garlick made valiant attempts to regain control of the class amid the peals of laughter and startled screams as the plants lashed out at the preoccupied students.

The herbology professor's hand came to rest gently on Nova's shoulder while addressing all three offenders: "Our classroom thrives when everyone can focus and bloom comfortably. How about taking the rest of the hour to recharge your petals and return tomorrow ready to flourish with us?"

Suppressing a snarky retort about the endless metaphors, Nova grumbled, "Sorry, Professor," as she gathered her belongings and marched out of the classroom.

"Just so you're aware," Sebastian began, hurrying to catch up to her, "I was an innocent bystander in all that."

"You're guilty by association."

"At least we scored a free period. Guilty as charged if it means we get to loaf around."

"We've got twelve minutes until our next class."

"Bahh," Sebastian waved away that minor blip. "I was planning on skipping it anyway. I'm onto something with that relic. Remember the chamber in the catacomb? I found a way in, but it's not exactly ideal. I'm trying to figure out if there's a way to outsmart the magic—"

"Come on, can't you at least try to attend everything on our first day back?" Nova interrupted. She had no excuses to conjure on his behalf; they had all been exhausted last term.

Although he kicked up a minor fuss, he eventually relented. They strolled under the courtyard's stone arches, taking a few laps to pass the time until they found themselves caught up in the bustling stream of students heading to their next class.

Nova made a deliberate effort to avoid colliding with Alice as she pushed past her, her gorgeous blonde curls flicking at Nova's face as she tossed them over her shoulder. In silence, Nova seethed, bitterly lamenting that she tripped and fell on a knife over the holidays.

The sensation of Sebastian's finger tracing the bumpy line of her scar cut through the tangled ivy of her thoughts. "How did you mess this up so badly?"

"I went a bit heavy-handed with the Dittany. It healed too quickly, and now the flesh is jagged and uneven."

"Dittany? Where did you even find Dittany?"

"Ominis had some lying around," she replied, gesturing vaguely as she lowered her voice, conscious of their current company.

Sebastian grunted a reply, his interest already waning as he absently dug remnants of soil from his fingers. "You have to admit, it was a little funny seeing how irritated he got just because you bat an eyelash at Garreth."

Goosebumps flared across Nova's skin as she noticed Alice's deceleration in pace, her ear delicately pivoting toward their conversation. Anxiously hopeful it was just a coincidence, Nova grabbed the hood of Sebastian's cloak, causing him to stumble backwards in a clumsy dance as she whisked him out of earshot.

"He didn't... What?" Nova stammered, her words faltering as she grappled to find the right ones. "Ominis only puts up with me because I'm your friend."

Sebastian scoffed, unconvinced by her feigned surprise. "Yeah, he was flinging shit because he's utterly indifferent to you flirting—"

"I wasn't flirting."

"And don't think I haven't noticed your relentless eye-fucking either," Sebastian sneered, seemingly oblivious to the raised eyebrows directed their way. "I can only tolerate so much before it genuinely makes me vomit."

"Sebastian! Could you please lower your voice?"

"What?" He protested, throwing her a shrug. "He's been so uptight lately; maybe putting the chap through a mattress will help him unwind."

"Merlin's balls, he's ignored me for days, Sebastian. I don't think he wants me within a mile of his mattress," Nova said, her frustration getting the best of her and abandoning any pretence of indifference.

Sebastian sighed, his dragging heels leaving tufts of grass in their wake. "He's gone off to sulk in the library," he remarked wearily. "Can you just go kiss and make up? I thought I was done with getting caught up in your hostile mating rituals."

 

After class, Sebastian headed off to continue his studies in the Undercroft, leaving Nova to wander aimlessly. Her hopes were pinned on an encounter with Poppy until she realised her legs had subconsciously guided her to the library.

She quickly brushed aside the idea of confronting Ominis about his behaviour. If he was going to act pathetic, she had no intention of wasting her breath on him. At least, that's what she told herself as she pushed open the library door. Her gaze swept across the scattered students until it landed on him, tucked away in a corner, studying alone.

A slight scowl scrunched his brow, as it often did when he was deep in concentration. Nova couldn't help but wonder if he wore the same expression once alone on Christmas Eve.

She wasn't naïve. Though he might have concealed any physical signs, the abrupt departure and the urgency in his actions left little doubt as to why he had left her so rapidly.

After his sudden exit, she had paced the outskirts of the common room for numerous laps, fighting the temptation to follow him.

But what if she hadn't?

What if she had stormed into his dormitory, flung open the curtains of his bed with a flourish of her wand and uncovered him lost in vivid fantasies of her?

Would he have been furious? 

Or would he have surrendered to the moment as she crept in beside him, delicately nipping at each beauty mark adorning his moonlit skin? Her robe slipping from her shoulders as the loose tie came undone. Or perhaps he would have impatiently tugged it from her body himself...

"Excuse me."

A Hufflepuff attempted to manoeuvre past as she stood motionless in the doorframe.

"Oh... sorry," she awkwardly stumbled further into the room, conceding that Sebastian had a point. This eye-fucking needed to stop.

She strode purposefully toward Ominis until just a few steps remained; at this point, her confident gait slowed into a hesitant shuffle.

"Hello," he greeted calmly, his attention fixed on his studies.

"It's nearly one o'clock."

She cringed for not thinking before speaking.

"Yes, it is," he replied, an amused smile quirking the corner of his mouth—a gesture that only served to annoy her.

"Would you like to get lunch?"

Finally, he lifted his head, looking thrown off as if her question wasn't what he expected to be greeted with. The silence was heavy, and Nova didn't dare breathe when his resigned huff sliced it in half.

"Yes, I could use a break. Where are we going?"

"Three Broomsticks?"

 

They stepped out from the Hogsmeade Floo flames into a sparser crowd than usual. With students back at school and locals returning to their routines, the town was refreshingly tranquil, albeit marred by the biting cold.

"Are you not freezing?" Nova asked, weakly attempting to resist appreciating him in the plaid ensemble as she noted the absence of his cloak.

"Someone drenched it in plant food."

"Goodness, you must have been a real dick to deserve that."

"Unfortunate accidents were made," he said dryly, sidestepping the invitation for a verbal sparring. Nova sensed that was the extent of his apology. "I retrieved our worksheets for our next class," he continued, "yours and Sebastian's."

"Is that what you were studying in the library? It looked intense."

"No, that was seventh-year Potions. I'm aiming to take my exams early. The sooner I pass, the sooner I can apply for the Auror training programme."

"You're graduating early?" Nova felt a pang of unease settle deep in her chest. The familiar ache of Ominis Gaunt running away. "What are you trying to get away from?"

"I'm just doing well in all my subjects. It feels like the next natural step."

"Did your careers meeting suggest becoming an auror?"

"Are you basing your career decisions solely on what's discussed in those meetings?"

He made a valid point; Nova had been sure of her path for as long as she could remember.

"I want to be a healer."

Ominis responded with a derisive snort. "You'd think a future healer would be more inclined to visit one when they're wounded. I've heard a few comments today about your disfigurement."

"I'm hardly disfigured; it's barely even noticeable."

"Blind. Not stupid." 

 

A post-Christmas lull has settled over The Three Broomsticks. Its snug interior was bathed in the soft flicker of antique lanterns. The laughter of a modest gathering of regulars huddled around a crooked table mingled harmoniously with the crackle of the fireplace.

Sirona welcomed them with a smile, mentioning she'd bring over their accustomed orders, which Nova found impressive, considering she'd only visited once.

"It's been a while since you've slipped me a literary recommendation," Ominis remarked, guiding them to a secluded corner of the tavern. "My reading list has gravitated towards happier stories lately; you might want to see to that."

"Well, if you're going to complain about my choices..." She flicked a crumb off the table before settling into the plush armchair.

"It's not a complaint, just a plain old fact."

Her fingers tapped lightly against the table's surface as she pondered a suitable suggestion. "Out of the ones I've already given you, do you have a favourite?"

"Frankenstein," he replied without hesitation, shifting his chair closer to the table and inclining his arms on its surface.

"Reasoning?"

"Well, it frustrated me that Frankenstein's monster was cast aside by his creator, but I couldn't put it down." Ominis began twitching his woven fingers. "I needed to know if he found peace."

Nova caught her lip between her teeth to suppress any untimely remarks. The unspoken parallels between Ominis' life and that of the titular monster weighed heavily in the air—both were created for a purpose they vehemently opposed.

"I take it you weren't a fan of Victor."

"Counted down the pages until he died."

Nova furrowed her brow, "How did you know he died?"

"Mary Shelley didn't hold back on the foreshadowing."

"Spoilsport."

"It's not my fault I'm perceptive."

Sirona glided over with a polished wooden tray; their lunch balanced precariously upon it. She placed two frosty Butterbeers and a pair of sandwiches before them, the savoury fillings bulging out provocatively between slices of sourdough.

"Do you have any books lined up for me?" Nova asked, enthusiastically gulping her ice-cold drink and lapping up the creamy foam that lingered on her lips.

Ominis began tapping his foot, the rhythmic knock of his knee quivering the table and their frothy drinks. Then, he conjured the textbook he had been studying and pushed it across the table.

"Wow. It's a real page-turner," Nova said dryly, skimming her thumb across the pages to gauge their thickness.

"You've been grading well, haven't you?"

"I scrape by." She inspected one of the pages on advanced techniques for healing potions—ingredients she could only dream of acquiring as a sixth year. It felt like she was trying to decipher a foreign language.

"You should consider taking your exams early. St Mungo's accepts trainees from seventeen, meaning you could begin your training immediately if you wanted to."

His features betrayed no hint of ulterior motives, but there must have been a reason driving his insistence.

"I have nowhere to go once I leave Hogwarts. It's in my best interest to stay as long as possible."

"I thought you were going to live with your uncle?"

"I'd prefer the streets."

"An impressive testament to his character, I must say."

"And what about you? Are you planning to live with the Sallows?"

"For a time," he shrugged. "Aurors get decent pay, some travel perks, and access to certain anti-detection spells. Not to mention relocation privileges."

"Hmm," Nova's lips lingered on the edge of the glass as the psychology behind Ominis' aspiration to join law enforcement clicked into place. "Alright, Mr Moral, picture this. Every law is temporarily suspended. No law enforcement, no repercussions. What's the worst crime you're willing to commit?"

"I shall be locking myself in the Undercroft and waiting it out."

"That's hardly a crime," she groaned into her palm. "Stop being so rational. Is that truly the extent of your imagination?"

"Very well," Ominis began drawing lines on the worn surface of the table as if etching out a plan in the woodgrain. "I would suggest looting, but only if it were from someone deserving and an item that wouldn't be sorely missed—"

"Like Robin Hood."

"Precisely. Steal from the rich to give to the needy."

"Needy, like a pair of homeless Slytherin's."

"Something along those lines." He chewed on the inside of his lips while tapping out a rhythm on his plate, "Does breaking into Gringotts count as looting?"

"I'd say that's more akin to an armed heist."

His eyebrows furrowed together in confusion. "Why would I be armed?"

"I may be wrong here, but Gringotts might have security measures. A spot of thunderbrew and a chomping cabbage wouldn't go amiss."

"Are you suggesting that on a night when all laws are barred, Gringotts guards will clock in for work and give maximum effort to thwart a heist?"

"I did ask that you stop being rational, but your point is well taken. Please continue."

"Alright, let me think…" he said, straightening up and brushing aside the invisible remnants of the previous plan to formulate a new one. "Let's suppose I arrive right at the outset; let's say this entire thing begins at nine o'clock..."

"You're punctual even in hypotheticals."

"I'd make for a poor criminal if I left my arrival time to whimsy."

"An intelligent criminal wouldn't be in the first wave."

Ominis raised his hand in a gesture of bafflement, "Provide me your logic, and I'll debunk it in seconds."

"You think you're the only one showing up at Gringotts? No. You watch others load up their loot, identify the weakest link, incapacitate, take their carriage," she tapped the side of her nose. "Always delegate the dirty work, Gaunt."

He reclined in his chair, his expression betraying a begrudging sense of approval. "That's not terrible, and I do consider myself a rather proficient driver."

"You can't ride a broom, but you can drive a carriage?"

"Two entirely different means of transportation."

"Alright," she conceded, "and I'm reasonably skilled in duelling. I'll fight the baddies, and you can make sure we escape without repercussions."

"Deal, but you must promise to be a punctual criminal."

"Mayhaps," she breathed a laugh around a bite of sandwich, her heart missing a beat at the fleeting flash of fondness in his eyes.

She respected his wishes to keep things platonic but was becoming aware that a lunch date hadn't been the most diplomatic move if she was aiming to suppress her feelings.

A general lightness of spirit always accompanied dining with a friend, didn't it?

"Speaking of punctuality," Nova glanced at the clock behind the bar, feeling a sudden readiness to wrap things up. "We don't have much time before we should head back for History."

Ominis sighed deeply while stacking his empty plate ontop of hers. "Binns won't notice whether we're there or not. Shall we have another drink instead?"

Nova hummed a contemplative tune, feigning a moment of consideration to conceal the delight. Her charade was interrupted by the door chime heralding the arrival of another patron.

A blast of chilly air swept through the tavern as Alice entered, her disdain evident in the curl of her lip as she regarded the establishment. She was clinging to a man's arm several years her senior. He, too, looked wildly out of place in a well-tailored suit, matching black robes and oozing an atmosphere of superiority.

"Nova?" Ominis' voice snapped her back to attention. "Would you like another drink?"

"Yes, sorry," Nova murmured, her eyes darting down to her empty glass as she assembled her composure. A knot of tension tightened in her stomach as she debated mentioning Alice's arrival, fearing bringing it up might upset the fragile peace they had managed to achieve. "I'll have whatever you're having."

"Alright," Ominis replied, gathering their empty glasses before making his way to the bar.

Nova kept her head down, pretending to peruse the menu while nervously picking at the worn edges of the parchment.

The chair opposite her emitted a grating screech as it was forcefully dragged across the floorboards. Alice's companion helped himself to Ominis' seat and graced her with a deceptively friendly smile.

"Um, my... my friend, he'll be back in a moment," Nova stuttered uncomfortably, glancing at Ominis, who was leant against the bar, utterly oblivious and patiently awaiting his turn to be served.

"No matter; it's you I'm here for, my dear," the man replied smoothly, brushing aside her discomfort with unsettling ease. His nose wrinkled in aversion as he scanned the humble surroundings of the pub. "Rather shabby here, don't you think? You're welcome to join my friend and me elsewhere. I hear you two are acquainted."

"Absolutely not." The repulsion tainting her words tumbled out somewhat unintentionally.

The intruder's lip quivered as his smile threatened to morph into a sneer. "It is not becoming of someone of your station to insult me," he snarled through clenched teeth, his tone sharpening. "I have come to deliver a warning, so I strongly advise you to show some appreciation."

"Who… are you?"

He arched an eyebrow and inclined on his forearms. "Someone else has trodden the path you're currently traversing, my dear, and they found themselves severely burned."

"Path?" Nova demanded, her patience wearing thin with the cryptic nonsense.

He scraped aside a rebellious wisp of blonde hair that dared to stray from his immaculate hairstyle.

"We will not be made to look like fools, and creatures of your ilk will not mock our standing," he hissed, his piercing blue eyes locking onto hers with such intensity that a wave of goosebumps raced up her spine.

Nova recognised the shade of blue a fraction too late.

Her chair crashed against the floor as she rocketed to her feet. Her panicked eyes fixed on Ominis as he strode back to the table and set their drinks down.

It turned into an excruciatingly slow ballet.

Nova moved towards Ominis, her hand extended to grasp his arm and pull him away, but he was already in motion, pulling out his chair, drawing back at the resistance that signalled someone had claimed the spot.

"Hello, baby brother."

Nova's hand darted for her wand, but Marvolo's was at her throat before her fingers could wrap around the hilt.

She couldn't tell whether Ominis knew a wand was rammed into her jugular; he was frozen. With pleading eyes, she sought the attention of one of the patrons, but Marvolo had positioned himself strategically, effectively obstructing their view.

Nova raised her hands within his line of sight, and he begrudgingly lowered his wand with a sneer.

Marvolo moistened his lips with a serpentine swipe of his tongue, appraising Nova from head to toe with palpable disgust. "You've always had a propensity for women who fight your battles... Remind you of dear Auntie, does she?"

This remark seemed to jolt Ominis back to reality, and he regained his senses enough to position himself in front of Nova.

"It's a tragic affair concerning Noctua.," Marvolo continued. "I understand how dearly you cherished her. You should know it pained me deeply to leave her behind, but she simply refused to move."

Ominis' features twisted into explosive rage as he lunged forward, his wand raised high.

Marvolo flung him back as effortlessly as drawing a breath. The sickening crack of Ominis' body meeting the wood of a beam sent a shockwave of silence throughout the pub.

"Exercise caution, Nova," Marvolo purred as he gestured for Alice to approach. "You wouldn't wish to share the same fate as his last love." he scooped up their abandoned drinks from the table, leaving her with a chilling nod of farewell before he and Alice apparated.

Chapter 12

The unsteady gable of the covered bridge groaned beneath the weight of snow as Nova tumbled onto the outskirts of Hogwarts in a disoriented heap. Her trembling legs betrayed her as she reached for one of the tall rocks, struggling to regain her footing.

Ominis touched down nearby, his arrival significantly more graceful than her own. Nevertheless, he extended his fingers to find support from the timber beams while concealing a grimace of pain.

"You really should go to the hospital wing," Nova urged, watching with growing concern as he began to pace circles around the stone formation with an intermittent limp.

Ominis brushed off her suggestion, his pride preventing him from acknowledging the pain caused by his brother's strike. "It was a warning," he uttered between panicked chest heaves. "If he had intended harm, he would have acted upon it."

"I don't understand. What did he mean by 'suffer the same fate' as your former love? Who was he referring to?"

"That's not the crucial part," Ominis snapped, his fingers scraping down his face, tugging at his skin until it stretched taut beneath his bony fingers. I warned you this was coming. I've angered someone. It's in our best interests for you to maintain your distance from me."

"Could he have meant Alice?" she pondered aloud before promptly dismissing the idea. "Noctua?" she acknowledged the possibility with a hint of discomfort. This was an incestuous insinuation from Marvolo, but given his family, it was not entirely surprising.

"Nova, you need to understand what I'm saying."

"He mentioned Noctua; could that be what he meant?" Nova furrowed her brow, barely registering Ominis' indignant pleas. "He mentioned 'leaving her there,' so he must have been with her in the scriptorium, right?"

She only became aware of her frantic pacing when Ominis grasped her shoulders and brought her to an abrupt halt.

"You need to stop," he stressed through clenched teeth. "The 'why' and 'how' don't matter. What matters is I've angered them, and they're targeting  you  if I misstep. Stay in the castle, avoid Hogsmeade, and stay away from Feldcroft. If you receive an invitation to go anywhere alone, report it to  Sharp , not Black. Repeat that back to me."

"No, you don't understand - Marvolo was in the scriptorium," Nova grabbed onto his arms, baffled by his lack of reaction to his brother's confession. "Noctua didn't die because she had no one to cast the curse on; he cast the curse on  her…  then abandoned her."

"Nova…" Ominis growled, his teary eyes causing her breath to catch.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean..." A lump caught in her throat, and though a part of her longed to provide reassurance that she would take the warning seriously, her racing thoughts prevented her from finding the right words of comfort. Instead, she blurted out, "I just... why would they have gone in together?"

Ominis pressed his finger and thumb firmly against his eyes, attempting to wipe away the moisture before it could spill. "Noctua wanted to prove to my family that Slytherin was about more than just blood status. She tried to persuade my father to join, but when that failed, I suppose she turned to my brother."

"Do you think he followed the same paper trail as Sebastian?" She knew the pieces were right before her, but her mind spun so wildly that she couldn't weave them into a coherent picture. "We need to warn Sebastian-"

Her mouth snapped shut in surprise as Ominis seized her wrists and clamped them down at her sides. He pushed her back until she was cornered between him and one of the towering rocks that surrounded them.

"Listen carefully," Ominis demanded with an alarming sense of urgency. "Sebastian must not find out about this, do you understand? You won't breathe a word about what happened here."

"But what if Sebastian goes after that relic, and Marvolo already has it?" Her forehead came close to colliding with his as she fought against his grasp.

"He's not going to go after the relic."

"But-"

"But nothing. Stop obsessing over it and just stay away from me," he insisted firmly, his words at odds with his persistent grip on her wrists.

"Is that really what you want?"

She observed a subtle twitch traverse up the bridge of his nose as he grappled with her question. Eventually, he tore himself away from her with an irate huff. "Yes."

She rolled her eyes, her posture stiffening defensively. "I know we promised not to discuss what happened, but—"

"Nothing happened!" He fired back, attempting to storm off, but she grabbed his arm.

"Why do you insist on running from everything? It  did  happen—"

"Yes, well, I wish it hadn't."

She flinched at the sting of his words, her fingers releasing their hold on his arm as she pushed him away. "Enough with the words; act on them. Fuck off." She fought to mask the humiliation that tainted her voice.

"Fine," he snapped, his heated steps sending dust clouds swirling around his feet as he stormed toward the bridge.

 

 

Nova paced in a furious circle, mentally hurling every insult she could conjure at an imaginary Ominis. Her heels kicked up dirt until her relentless path was etched into the ground.

After what felt like an eternity, her unsteady legs reluctantly carried her across the vast expanse of the bridge, the biting breeze assaulting her tear-stained skin as it whipped through the passage.

Heels squeaking across the desolate hallway floor, she approached the Undercroft, searching for Sebastian. Her eyes remained glued to the floor as she carefully counted each floorboard, a desperate attempt to keep her racing thoughts at bay. Her intense focus on the task nearly resulted in a head-on collision as Sebastian abruptly darted into her path.

The same distressed expression she wore was mirrored on his freckled features, and a delicate layer of snow clung to his hair and cloak. This was enough to snap her out of her trance.

"Sebastian, what's wrong? Where have you—" She began brushing the snow from his sleeves, but as her fingers met the warm texture, she realised it wasn't snow but ash. Her eyes followed a trail of smoke that had accompanied him out of the Undercroft, curling up into the air behind him.

"Is there a fire?" She stared at him with wide eyes, the raw despair on his features leaving no room for doubt. "Who did this?"

Sebastian's voice was raspy, yet Nova clearly discerned his words.

"I did it."

 

 

The formidable matron immediately spotted them as they rounded the corner to the hospital wing. Nova's legs trembled under the strain of supporting most of Sebastian's weight.

"Oh dear." The ample woman teetered precariously on her stepladder, perusing the dried herbs positioned high on a cabinet. Nova held her breath as she descended with such heavy stomps that it seemed the ladder might snap in half.

The matron briskly strode over to them and practically hoisted Sebastian off his feet, gently depositing him onto one of the vacant beds.

"Tell me what happened here?" She demanded, brushing away the ash that had settled on the otherwise pristine sheets.

"I think he was caught up in a fire, but I'm not sure about the details," Nova explained, massaging her aching arm from the effort of hauling Sebastian up all those stairs.

The matron's accusing eyes darted back and forth between them. "It's a recurring pattern that nobody ever seems to have all the details," she remarked. Leaning in closer, she gently gripped Nova's chin with her fingers.

"And what's this?" She inspected the length of Nova's scar. "What a shoddy job someone's done here. Take the next bed; I'll see to that properly for you."

Nova cautiously settled onto the bed beside Sebastian, observing the first droplets of rain trickling down a nearby windowpane. She selected a hefty raindrop and tracked its journey as it outpaced the others, a feeble attempt to divert her wandering mind.

"Very minimal smoke inhalation, no visible burns…" the matron reassured, her stack of enchanted parchment diligently recording Sebastian's vital signs. I believe he's mostly just shaken. I'll keep him overnight… Now, about this." She gripped Nova's chin with pudgy fingers. This lousy job… is it in any way linked to my missing dittany?"

Nova's thoughts were a chaotic jumble as she frantically searched for an excuse. With Sebastian's safety secured, the weight of her situation began to claw its way back under her skin.

"Oh dear, oh dear," the large woman clucked sympathetically as Nova found herself drawn into the comforting softness of her ample bosom. Initially bewildered, Nova's thoughts slowly cleared, and she became aware of the sound of her own heaving sobs. The matron must have detected the signs, promptly conjuring a bucket just as Nova expelled the evidence of her lunch.

 

 

With a few well-executed crocodile tears, Nova had managed to secure a night in the hospital wing, taking the opportunity presented by the numerous vacant beds. Resting close to Sebastian brought her the comfort she desperately needed.

The gentle creaking of the lanterns swaying in the breeze that drifted through the open windows thwarted her attempts to fall asleep. It was sometime after curfew when the matron quietly departed ahead of her shift change.

"Are you awake?" Nova whispered, seizing the opportunity to reach out to Sebastian. She peered through the darkness, straining to discern the contours of his silhouette.

"Mm-hmm," Sebastian finally grunted in response.

Nova tried to stifle the creaks of the old bed frame as she clambered out of her bed and settled cross-legged at the foot of Sebastian's. His face remained buried in the thin pillow, his chest rising and falling irregularly.

"What happened?"

It took him a while to get the words out, pausing to catch his breath between most syllables. "I fell asleep at the desk, must've been having another nightmare, and knocked over a lantern. Everything's gone."

It struck her as remarkably coincidental that Sebastian had 'accidentally' ignited Salazar Slytherin's manuscripts on the same day Ominis erupted in rage concerning his family's legacy. Snippets of mindless chatter from prefects strolling down the hall snagged her thoughts, and an image of the evening she had spent in their bathroom flashed in her mind. She squeezed her eyes shut, determined not to spiral.

"Have you memorised everything you need? Given how much you've studied, it can't all be for nothing," she prompted, trying to keep Sebastian engaged in conversation.

"Yeah," he admitted, his hands covering his face as if it were a dreadful admission. "I know how to get to the relic, but I can't... I needed more time. More information."

Her stomach twisted into knots. If Marvolo had followed the same trail of clues as Sebastian, there was a significant chance he had already pilfered the relic from the catacomb, rendering all of Sebastian's efforts useless anyway.

"Sebastian, that relic, what exactly does it do?"

"It grants the power to harness an ancient form of magic, and it's the most promising solution I've found so far. Maybe St. Mungo's haven't been able to cure Anne because her curse was cast by someone who somehow already possessed this particular type of magic—"

Sebastian released a startled yelp as Nova's fingers clamped onto his leg.

"Sebastian?" she rasped, feeling the room spin wildly around the bed frame. "Was there ever something... anything between Ominis and Anne?"

"No," Sebastian snapped with a protective edge, and Nova released a shaky breath she hadn't realised she'd been holding.

"At one point, his family assumed it, though," he added bitterly. "They thought he left home to chase girls, refused to acknowledge it was their abuse that drove him away."

Her stomach churned, and whatever remnants remained inside fought to ascend her throat.

"But you're a pureblood," she whispered in a contemplative murmur as she attempted to make sense of it all.

"What?" Sebastian rolled over to face her, confusion creasing his brow. "Oh shit, you look terrible. Should I call the nurse back?"

"You're a pureblood," She repeated, "So Ominis' family wouldn't have cared, right?"

"They cared a great deal, actually," Sebastian replied with a sigh. "My family tree can only be traced so far, and they'd rather see Ominis dead than have their bloodline tainted… Look, if you're going to be sick, you'd better get out of my bed…"

She scrambled to her feet, hastily tearing her cloak from where it hung on the end of her metal bed frame before sprinting out of the infirmary.

 

 

The castle appeared to conspire against her as she reeled through a tangle of halls, repeatedly stumbling over her feet. She paid no heed to the portraits' disapproving tutting, who scolded her audacity for venturing out past curfew.

The frantic pounding of her chest propelled her forward with a singular purpose: she had to find Ominis.

Her unsteady footfalls merged with the torrential rain pelting against the windows as she hurtled toward the Undercroft; her hope hinged on finding him there, sparing her the necessity of creating a scene in his dormitory.

 

 

The fierce stench of ash assaulted her lungs upon entering the passage, yet the absence of smoke and flames left no room for doubt that Ominis had been there at some point. Given the lack of ventilation, it was evident that the fire had been extinguished manually.

A slight hiss of agony escaped her lips as jagged debris sliced into her bare feet. The candles at the base of the pillars flickered diligently, but the columns bore the scars of considerable damage as though every conceivable offensive spell had been hurled in every direction.

Her wide eyes swept across the wreckage, eventually landing on Ominis slumped against the wall, a portrait of defeat amid the self-made chaos. Every callous remark she had mentally hurled at him dissolved as he half-heartedly raised his head upon hearing her enter. The redness surrounding his eyes accentuated his striking blue irises as he blinked hard against the ashy air.

She hurried to his side and examined his exposed skin for signs of injury. Aside from a few scarlet scrapes marring his pale skin, he appeared unharmed.

"Ominis, are you alright?"

He was shivering despite the lingering heat from the fire, and she gently laid the back of her hand against his clammy forehead.

"I'm sorry," he croaked, his eyes closing as he leaned into her touch.

"I know; I'm sorry too," she said softly, draping his discarded cloak over his shoulders to offer extra warmth.

He took a deep breath before speaking, "There's something you need to know."

"I've already pieced it together," she told him quietly, carefully choosing her words. "Your brother, he cursed Anne, didn't he?"

Rubbing his eyes vigorously, he mumbled into his arm, "How can you bear to be near me?"

"This isn't your fault."

"Sebastian will think so, Anne too," he murmured. "Are you planning to tell them?"

Nova sighed, her fingers gently massaging her temple. "I can't see any good coming from telling him. We both know he'd try to confront your family, and I don't want to be responsible for that."

This thought didn't appear to bring him any comfort. He leaned his head back against the stone wall with a soft thud.

"How long have you been aware of this?"

"I honestly don't know. I recall the thought creeping into my mind, but I pushed it away."

His uncharacteristically scruffy hair fell across his forehead, and she tenderly brushed it aside, revealing his weary eyes. "You should get some rest. Would you like me to help you to your dorm?"

He clasped his icy fingers around her wrist, his thumb gently stroking across her skin. "Can we stay here for a while?" he whispered.

She surrendered to his gentle tug, her body sinking against the wall as she rested her head on the curve of his shoulder. It appeared that wasn't insufficient for him as he administered another weak pull, coaxing her closer.

She inched nearer, nestling comfortably between his legs and resting her weight against his chest. His breathing tickled her neck as he burrowed into the thickness of her hair. Drawing his knees up, he wrapped his arms tightly around her waist.

Despite the danger linked to being entangled with the descendant of Slytherin, she couldn't recall the last time she had felt this safe. The pressure of his arms against her skin satisfied a longing she was unaware of.

"This can't mean anything," Ominis protested weakly near her ear, possibly more to himself.

"I know," she whispered, the gentle rhythm of his chest rising and falling against her back, soothing her to sleep.

Chapter 13

As the night wore on, Nova and Ominis gradually sprawled onto the solid ground and fell into an uncomfortable sleep among the wreckage.

A dull sting at the nape of her neck is what ultimately hauled Nova from her nightmares. The scent of Sebastian's charred tomes clawed at the back of her throat. It had seeped into her subconscious and manifested in vivid dreams of him burning.

She stared, unmoving, at the flames crackling within the metal frames of the hanging braziers while her heartbeat thrummed on her ears. Her parched tongue flicked across her lips and met the faint tang of salt from sweat or tears.

With a heavy breath, she eased her weight off her stiff shoulder, bracing herself for Ominis' grumbling protest— It would be entirely his own fault; he was practically welded to her back, his knees snugly nestled into the crook of hers and his face buried in her mass of hair.

As anticipated, the shifting of her throbbing limbs dragged a grumbly and incoherent string of words from him,  while the pain that had awakened her flared anew with his drowsy attempt to brush away wisps from his face.

"Hmm?" She tried to decipher whether he was communicating or lost in a dream.

"Stop squirming," his groggy voice arose from somewhere beneath an arm.

"I knew your whining was imminent."

"I don't whine," he whined, rubbing at his face and tugging a fistful of her hair along with him.

"And I swear to Merlin if you pull my hair one more time…"

He delivered a playful tug, and she drove her elbow back to jab him in the ribs. He then slowly, and by all accounts, painfully, began unravelling his fingers from the knotted strands, his groan mingling with a cascade of muttered syllables.

"I beg your pardon?"

"I said… It's hardly my fault your hair is so unruly."

"I didn't invite you to nap in it, Gaunt."

He muttered another string of words, but this time, she could tell it was deliberately incoherent.

His body quivered as he stretched out each limb like a cat and rolled onto his back, growling as scattered rubble jabbed into his spine. Nova shivered as his body heat fell away, and she twisted round to chase it.

"How are you feeling?"

His effort to reply devolved into a weak cough, which marked the commencement of a one-handed battle with the stubbornly cinched knot of his tie.

"Do you need reinforcement?"

"I've got it."

With a twist and yank that achieved nothing but clamp the fabric tighter around his throat, he let his arms flop to the ground in defeat.

"Watching you navigate the morning is fascinating," Nova suppressed the laugh bubbling in her chest and nestled her limbs into the narrow space between them. "You're usually so poised."

"Am I?" He pushed the heel of his palms into his eyes as if denying the reality of being awake. Shards of the chipped pillars had lodged themselves along the contours of his cheekbones during the night. Nova raised a finger to scrape them from the dents and divots they'd etched into his skin.

"It could get in your eyes," she muttered defensively to preempt any potential objections.

Ominis responded with a bashful grunt, dispensing a half-hearted swipe at his face. "Oh dear. Will I go blind?"

She gave his face a playful shove and traced her fingers over the mottled pattern left behind.

"Stop examining me," he weakly protested, pulling his face away to conceal an unintentional smile.

She slid her palm against the curve of his jaw and coaxed his face back towards her. "No, let me make sure there's nothing in your eyes."

She plucked out the grit snagged in his lashes' long, golden strands. His cheeks began to blush a rosy pink shade that accentuated his pale blue eyes. Her fingertips lingered on his skin as she stared into their stormy depths.

"Your eyes look like lightning."

He scoffed, dismissing her observation with a closing of his eyes.

"Has anyone ever described them to you?"

"Not in such poetic terms," he mumbled, burying his face into the crook of his elbow. "My mother used to say I had the stare of a dead man."

Heartache, anger, or some unholy amalgamation of the two lodged itself hard and ugly into Nova's chest. He'd never mentioned his mother before. It was widely known that the men held the reins in the Gaunt family, while the manor's lady remained largely anonymous.

Her curiosity was piqued.

"It's sorry you had to deal with that; you didn't deserve it."

"It's fine, dealing with it became notably easier once I cut ties."

Nova stopped herself from voicing her relief that he rescued himself from that situation. Considering the subsequent chain of events, she doubted he would ever see his estrangement in a positive light again.

"How does your mother feel towards your brother?" she asked instead.

"Marvolo is a duplication of my father, so she's naturally terrified of him." His voice was composed, but his leg had begun to bounce restlessly. "She wasn't able to conceive more children after me due to my complications, so my father secured his heir and his spare, but my mother blames me as the supposed thief of her chance for daughters."

Nova's arms felt displaced, as though they belonged wrapped around him rather than tucked against her chest.

"I think what you did for those unborn girls was commendable."

"Anything to thin the bloodline."

"I presume you're not interested in having children of your own?"

"Not if I get any say in the matter."

The phrasing turned Nova's stomach.

"My brother will expand the family tree in my stead; I'm sure", Ominis continued, "Likely already has."

"Let's hope the apples fall far from the tree."

Ominis's mouth quirked into a smile for the first time since starting the conversation. "You know who's just itching to bear his little germinates."

Nova stifled a gag at the mental image induced by that sentence, and again when she recalled the sickening display of bedroom eyes in The Three Broomsticks.

"Alice?"

"Alice. She's always resented me for being betrothed to the wrong Gaunt."

"Why is she so invested in your life, if she doesn't want you herself?"

"As I mentioned, my parents have eyes everywhere. Coupled with earning Marvolo's favour, her desire to provoke you, and her insistence that her children bear the Gaunt name above all else... Take your pick."

Nova's simmering hatred that continuously brewed on a low heat threatened to boil over. If Alice intended to provoke her, she had unfortunately hit the mark.

Nova racked her brain, trying to pinpoint when Ominis had become the catalyst for such intense emotions. She glanced at him and wondered if their current proximity would ever be possible again after this morning.

Her head and heart fought over what to do with that information.

Her rational mind won.

The warmth of his chest lingered against her cheek as she reluctantly tore herself away.

"I should consider going; I have an astronomy study group."

"When?"

Her joints were stiff from the night spent on stone, and she shuffled in increments to sit up and lean against a pillar. "Erm, nine, I think? But should probably visit Sebastian first."

She summoned over their cloaks and began rummaging through the fabric for her watch.

"It's earlier than nine..." Ominis plucked the cloaks from her hand and folded them neatly atop a nearby barrel. "Stay for a while."

"How do you know that?"

"A hunch."

She couldn't decide if his mixed signals irritated or amused her.

"One minute you're shouting that I should leave you alone, and the next you don't want rid of me."

"Those concepts aren't mutually exclusive."

The air suddenly felt thick, and tiny fragments of the Undercroft prickled and tickled Nova's skin, making her squirm even more. She tried to dispel the uneasy silence by administering a few repairos to the pillars. She watched the dance of sandy particles swirl in tiny tornados as they rose to fill the gouges Ominis had blasted in the stone.

Nova's first instinct upon assessing the fire's destruction on Sebastian's desk was that it would require more than a few repairing charms.

The wood had been reduced to charcoal, while the floor and wall surrounding it were cloaked in thick, grimy black ash. What had once been methodically ordered stacks of tomes and notes were now twisted and blackened, their edges close to disintegrating into cinders under the slightest touch.

"Should we try to clean this?" Nova asked, dragging her finger across the warped surface of the desk.

"We should let Sebastian attend to that," Ominis said, trailing so closely behind her that she had to jab the tip of her wand into his ribs to prevent him from bumping into her. "Everything's gone; facing the aftermath will help him come to terms with it."

He was right, as he often was, but the idea of Sebastian facing the ruins of all he had worked so hard to build was breaking Nova's heart.

"Do you think I did the right thing?" Ominis asked quietly.

A yes felt disingenuous, but stating otherwise seemed equally wrong.

Nova turned to face him, and a chill shot through her at the sight of the exit's gaping maw looming behind him, like it was poised to swallow them whole and drag them back to reality.

"You're a good friend, Ominis," Nova swallowed down the tense lump in her throat. "He would never have willingly stopped otherwise."

That was enough for him. He offered a grateful smile as he slipped a finger into the loop of his tie, embarking on round two of his futile attempt to loosen it.

"Oh, come here," she sighed, tugging him towards her by the tip of the emerald garment and wiggling her nails under its clamped knot.

It was impossible to differentiate the texture of silk loosening beneath her fingers and the soft skin of his throat pressing against her knuckles.

His pulse was drumming just as intensely as hers.

"So…" Nova's voice cracked as she tried to fill the soundless void, "Who's getting custody of Sebastian?"

Ominis' laugh shimmered like a fleeting flash of sunlight.

"Are you volunteering? How sweet of you." His fingertips delicately traced the curve of her elbow. It might have been innocent, maybe a gesture to gauge their proximity, but her inhibitions dissolved into mist with that fleeting touch.

"In hindsight, it feels like a missed opportunity, doesn't it?" she said, her fingers teasing the end of his tie until it slipped from his shirt and fluttered to the ground between their feet. Neither of them stepped back.

"What does?"

"We could have spent a lot more Christmas break together, away from prying eyes."

She expected a reaction similar to a startled deer, so was surprised to see a sad smile quirking the corner of his mouth. "I often thought we should've been sharing meals in the Quidditch towers or reading by the fireplace."

"I often wish I'd followed you back to your dorm after our bath."

There it was—the startled deer.

Then a hesitant confession followed: "So do I."

A declining voice in her mind reminded her of Ominis' family's access to the Undercroft; it was urging at her to abandon this pursuit and go in search of Sebastian. Nevertheless, the darkness oozing from that grated gate was creeping closer, coiling around every rational thought, suffocating them one by one until only Ominis Gaunt occupied her mind.

She drew closer, or maybe he did; she wasn't sure. All that mattered was the inches between them were withering. The crook of his finger guided her chin toward him.

Their first kiss had been a hesitant exploration, but this felt different—confident and desperate. They both knew what they wanted, and there was only a fleeting window in which it was theirs to take.

Nova's nails raked through his silken hair while he scrambled at her waist, her shirt to rode up, and warm hands found purchase on the skin of her midriff. They stumbled, and she was pinned against the desk edge. Papers crunched to dust under her thighs as Ominis raised her onto the surface, and she wrapped her legs around his waist to draw him closer.

"Are you fucking kidding me?"

Sebastian's bloodshot stare was pinned on the pair of them, remnants of his incinerated studies scattered around Ominis' ankles.

He looked shattered and beaten as if all his energy was being used to avoid blasting them with a hex.

"What is this?" he snarled, his fingers tightly clenching his dishevelled hair. "What are you doing here?"

Nova's mind churned with words, but none seemed capable of defusing his anger.

She was sat on ashes of what might have been Anne's last hope.

She felt sick.

"Sebastian, you look exhausted," she began, noting the black smudges under his eyes. With all the grace she could muster, she slid off the desk. "Perhaps we should take you back to the hospital wing and get you some dreamless sleep potion?"

His eyes took a few seconds to sharpen their focus on her as she drew near. His initial fury gradually gave way to something more malevolent. Nova extended her hand to take his arm, but he ripped himself away with such frantic force that he staggered, lost his balance, and crashed to the floor a few feet away.

"I've killed her," he snarled with barely contained rage as he finally spoke. "I could have saved her, but instead, I… and instead of showing any remorse, you're..." His nails scratched fiercely against the ground, the scattered stone fragments grating on his skin. "You're sick, both of you. You're utterly repulsive."

"You didn't kill, Sebastian. You've been doing your best," Nova's voice quivered as she made another attempt to grasp his hand and assist him in getting up.

"Let go of me!" he shouted, yanking his hand from her grasp. "That's why you left me? You realised I'd carved out a little whorehouse.."

"It wasn't like that..." Nova's attempt to defend herself crumbled under the weight of the blatant disrespect she'd shown. “I'm so sorry, I wasn't thinking.”

"Sebastian, you need to calm down," Ominis urged, approaching the sound of Sebastian scrambling to his feet.

Ominis still bore smudges of ash from Nova's soot-covered fingers and it further fuelled Sebastian's fury. 

He jabbed a trembling finger against Nova's chest. "I needed you."

"Sebastian," Ominis placed a hand on his friend's shoulder, "The damage was already done. We haven't caused any further harm."

"And you celebrate by fucking around in the graveyard of my research... Did you think I wouldn't consider that a personal insult?" he seethed, every muscle in his body stiffening under Ominis' touch.

"You know that's not the case. I’m upset, too."

"Yeah, you looked torn to shreds with that filthy fucking grin on your face," Sebastian retorted sharply, pulling away from him. He sank to his knees, desperately sifting through the papers that crumbled into ash under his trembling hands.

"I'm truly sorry, Sebastian. I should have returned for you last night. It's just… I came down to mend things, and Ominis was already here. We were both upset, and one thing led to another. I regret not considering how you might feel about it.”

"Thought you could salvage..." Sebastian's voice trailed off as he gestured toward the scorched traces of the manuscripts they'd carelessly tossed to the floor to make room for themselves on the desk.

"I told you the dark arts shouldn't be meddled with; perhaps this was for the best," Ominis suggested.

Nova winced.

That wasn't going to be well-received.

"For the best?" Sebastian's eyes were black and glassy as he extracted his wand from his pocket and rose to his feet.

Nova braced herself for an impending attack, her hand hesitantly inching toward her own. She released a sigh as Sebastian pushed Ominis to the ground and strode past him toward the gate.

Sebastian stumbled through the exit tunnel, his shoulders brushing against the wall as he fought back tears with a growl. Nova rushed after him, the door nearly knocking her off her feet as he slammed it in her face, but she managed to slip through and sprint down the corridor.

She called out his name, immediately grabbing the attention of the bustle of students making their way to class. Her own astronomy group intermingled among them, their curious glances following Sebastian as he stormed past.

"Sebastian, please, look at me," Nova pleaded, trying to grab his arm.

He whirled around, thrusting his wand against her chest.

“Depulso.”

The resulting thrust sent her hurtling backwards, her head landing with such impact that it bounced, and the back of her skull became wet and warm. She clenched her teeth onto her tongue, stifling the cry that begged to escape and filling her mouth with the metallic taste of blood.

She fought against the encroaching blackout as soft and dainty hands lifted her head and muttered an incantation to ease the pain.

"I've got you," Poppy whispered.

It was the last thing Nova heard before slipping into the dark.

Notes:

My sincere apologies for the delay in delivering this chapter; writer's block had me in a chokehold. The next instalment of increasingly unstable Sebastian will arrive with swifter grace. Thank you to everyone who kudos and bookmarked and especially to P3ski, KatsClarient, Chyrchhella and MariMani for your comments on the previous chapter – they brightened my day ❤️

Chapter 14

Nova suppressed a gag as the lumpy potion oozed down her throat like a soggy chunk of cement. She tossed her head back in protest, having instant regrets as her tender wound collided with the pillow.

"That stuff is repugnant," she croaked, shoving the emptied vial back into the outstretched hand.

"But it's effective." The matron pressed her fingers against Nova's pulse. She cast an approving glance toward her enchanted quill, which dutifully transcribed the signs of improvement. "There's a marked increase in your lucidity and the colours returning to your cheeks."

"I'd rather be concussed."

"And your attitude is on the mend," she added less enthusiastically. "Brace yourself; there's more of this concoction in your future before I permit you to leave." She beckoned her quill and clipboard to follow her as she moved on to attend to the next ailing student.

Nova vented her frustration with a feeble kick, causing her bedsheets to become a tangled mess around her feet. "I can't take much more of this place. I'm bored to death."

"You've only been here four days," Poppy sat cross-legged at the foot of the bed, contentedly munching on the chocolate bar she'd brought for Nova. "And the first two, you were so heavily medicated you didn't even realise you were here."

"I wasn't  that  spaced out," Nova grumbled, extending her hand. Poppy broke off a few chocolate squares and placed them in her outstretched palm. "I'm so uncomfortable. I can't find a position to rest my head without wanting to tear it off."

"Nearly headless Nova," Poppy quipped, her words muffled by her mouthful of chocolate.

Nova's laughter turned into a painful grunt as the abrupt motion spun her head. "Please, don't make me laugh," she clutched her belly to stifle the heaving of her chest. "Fucking Sebastian."

Poppy's mouth tightened as she watched her friend squeeze her eyes shut to subdue the throbbing pain. "What made him do this to you? I thought you two were close."

"I upset him," Nova told her as if that wasn't evident from the two-inch fracture on her skull. "He's going through a tough time with Anne being so ill, and I wasn't very considerate of that. He had every right to be annoyed."

"I don't condone his behaviour, but I don't believe he intended to inflict this much damage. He seemed really upset when he saw the blood."

"He was already upset. If he were truly sorry, he'd come to visit."

Nova silently admitted he could have visited during those initial forty-eight hours, and she would be none the wiser. The concussion, combined with the medication to alleviate it, truly had put her psyche through the wringer. She was reasonably sure Ominis had visited when classes were in session to keep it discreet. However, she also recalled him fist-fighting a house elf, so whether his presence was a memory or hallucination was anyone's guess.

"I doubt Sebastian would have been permitted to visit you." Poppy began meticulously folding the chocolate wrapper into a neat triangle. "From what I heard, he narrowly escaped expulsion."

"If that were the case, Ominis would have played the Gaunt card to bail him out; it wouldn't be the first time."

"I'm not sure he would have. I've never seen Ominis anything other than quiet and composed, but he was furious. It was quite frightening."

"What?" A throb coursed through Nova's skull as she pushed herself upright. She hadn't thought much about the aftermath of the clash between Ominis and Sebastian, naively assuming they would patch things up and move on.

"I'm not sure about the exact details, but no one was hurt. Ominis went after Sebastian; there was a lot of shouting, and I heard someone had to physically separate them."

The thought of them fighting curdled the potion in Nova's stomach, but it did come with a silver lining. Her memory lapse concerning Ominis' visit left her uncertain about their current status; the fact he had jumped to her defence was a reassuring sign.

Torn between a relieved smile or breaking down in tears, she quashed both urges with a sullen frown. "Did either of those idiots think to stop and assist me while I was bleeding out?"

"You weren't exactly bleeding out," Poppy giggled, cinching the wrapper's edges between her teeth. "The crack was the worst part. I'm surprised you didn't shatter like that muggle egg."

"His name is Humpty Dumpty. Show some respect."

"Besides, you had me to put you back together again." Poppy gave the wrapper one last tweak before unveiling the origami foil star with a flourish of her wrist, proudly placing it next to Nova's glass of water with a satisfied grin. "I'm sure Sebastian will beg for your forgiveness soon enough."

Nova watched the twinkling light dance across Poppy's small creation, struggling to place blame solely on Sebastian. "I'll give him some space during his month of detention. Maybe we can work things out afterwards."

"Isolation."

"Sorry?"

"He's in isolation, not detention."

Nova adjusted her bandage nervously, "Is there a difference?"

"I'm not entirely sure, to be honest," Poppy admitted, chewing on her ragged nails. "Garreth was isolated after he peddled a batch of failed invisibility potion to some first-years and turned them green. He described isolation as  barbaric torture … so there might be a difference."

"I imagine it was the lack of an audience that pissed him off, to be fair," Nova scoffed, managing to conjure a weak smile. "Either way, it should be easy to steer clear of Sebastian for a while. A few weeks of reflection might do him good."

 

Nova lost track of how many vials of the lumpy potion she begrudgingly ingested. However, the ordeal felt worthwhile when the matron finally allowed her to continue her recovery in the comfort of her dorm.

She wasn't ready to actively seek out Sebastian but aimed to make herself available enough for him to approach her if he wished.

Balancing a stack of books under one arm, she weaved through her housemates to claim an unoccupied sofa by the fireplace. Three late evenings in the common room slipped by, and though her focus wasn't consistently on the door, she was convinced Sebastian wasn't returning to his dorm.

 

Thoroughly unprepared to rejoin humanity, Nova gripped the metal railing so tight it etched grooves into her palms as she descended into the greenhouse. Professor Garlick purred with delight at the morning sunlight's beauty, but for Nova, it only scorched her corneas and blurred her vision. She pinched her thumb and forefingers to her eyes as she staggered towards the table, narrowly averting a collision with a venomous tentacula that had seemingly grown three feet since her last class.

A welcoming slap on the back nearly sent her sprawling across the room, her unsteady knees barely holding her up. "Hello, Sunshine – You look like shit." Her herbology partner began rummaging through her hair in search of a nasty scar.

"Thank you, Garreth," Nova pressed her palms firmly against the table to regain her balance. "I haven't been getting much sleep."

"Yawn."

Nova felt the contagious yawn clawing its way up her throat but successfully stifled it. Garreth evaded her swipe as she tried to elbow him. "Ah, there it is. It's hideous."

"Could you give It a rest?" A shiver tracked the length of her spine as he burrowed around in her roots. "I feel like a baby monkey."

"Fine. Don't cry to mummy when you need someone to groom you."

"I'm unsure how to express the discomfort that statement causes me..." Nova's voice dwindled into a nervous silence when she saw Ominis descending the steps. She lowered her head and started methodically arranging their equipment into perfectly straight lines.

Her fidgeting escalated as measured footsteps approached, the garden fork slipping from her grasp and clattering to the feet of the bewildered wizard.

"Good morning," Ominis greeted calmly, stooping to retrieve her discarded tool from the ground.

"Good morning," Nova echoed, cringing at the awkwardness that hung between them. "…I didn't mean to throw that at you."

Ominis appeared thoroughly drained; dark circles underlined his pale eyes as he returned it to her. "How are you feeling?" There was a look of amusement before he added, "You seem much more lucid than the last time I saw you."

"I'm fine." She tried to respond with composure but straightened up so fast that her vision went misty at the edges. So, he  had  paid a visit to the hospital wing. She swept aside the mortifying thoughts of what she might have disclosed in her delirium. "A little rattled, but I'm getting better."

"She looks like she hasn't slept in three years," Garreth chimed in, glancing over his shoulder. "You don't look much better, Gaunt. What's going on with you people?"

"Have you seen Sebastian?" Nova brushed off Garreth's remark. "How is he doing?"

"Sebastian's holding up," Ominis bit out. He refrained from delving into specifics, striding deeper into the greenhouse and claiming an unoccupied spot at the far end of the table.

"Frosty," Garreth murmured. "Is there some sort of love triangle unfolding here? Sallow has even less game than I thought if he believed a cranial laceration would win your heart."

"It was an accident," Nova insisted, absentmindedly running her trowel along the scratched wood of the table with little intention of beginning their assignment.

"Are you aware several witnesses saw him bowl you down a hallway?"

"Garreth, what do you know about being in isolation?" She asked, partly because it was on her mind but mainly to change the subject.

"Isolation?" Garreth furrowed his brow in confusion. "Weren't you in isolation not too long ago?"

"Yeah, I spent the entire day with your aunt doing worksheets but was free to roam every evening. I haven't seen Sebastian during meals  or  in the common room."

"I think it depends on how serious the offence is," Garreth pondered, rubbing the back of his neck. "I was allowed out in the evenings, but all I did was turn a few snitches green. That's nothing compared to cracking a student's head open. They won't let him near us until they're sure he's not a threat."

Nova nodded, feeling a degree of comfort. "I guess that makes sense."

"He'll be fine," he reassured her. "A few years back, there was a student who spent their entire seventh year in isolation, so four weeks should be a walk in the park."

"An entire year?" In her surprise, Nova dug the trowel into the table too forcefully and gouged out a sizable chunk of wood. "If splitting a head open gets one month, what warrants someone getting twelve?"

Garreth's laidback demeanour morphed into something considerably more disconcerting as he glanced down the bench and lowered his voice. "I don't have all the sordid details, but they were practising the killing curse on creatures in the Forbidden Forest. Initially, it was only acromantula, but they were apprehended when they moved on to unicorns and centaurs."

Nova waited for a ' sike'  or ' you should have seen your face'  moment, but he remained earnest. "How does that not warrant immediate expulsion?"

Garreth nodded in Ominis' direction, who seemed to be fighting off an imminent nap. "They wield enough wealth and influence to sweep incidents like that under the rug."

"It was a Gaunt?" Nova blurted out much louder than she had intended, causing Ominis to appear much more alert. "Do you know if it was his brother?"

"Probably, I'm not entirely sure of the specifics. My point is, if that guy could endure a full year in isolation, Sallow can handle one month." Garreth pushed some worksheets in her direction. "Here, you'll need to catch up on all the assignments I didn't do in your absence."

 

In the following weeks, Nova's own isolation began to gnaw at her sanity. She had decided to keep her distance from Ominis unless he initiated contact, and so far, he hadn't. Stripped of her two primary sources of human connection, she had no choice but to resign herself to the monotony of her evenings.

 

   When the moment finally came for Sebastian's isolation to be lifted, Nova was practically clawing at Professor Weasley's classroom door. She was past assigning blame; all she craved was his beautifully chaotic presence back in her life.

A handful of disinterested students trailed out of the room, getting swooped up into the steady stream of their peers returning from their feast, but she failed to spot Sebastian towering above the crowd. She avoided being thrust downstream, dodging rogue bags and elbows. She held her ground until Professor Weasley finally emerged from the classroom.

"Professor!" Nova waded through the crowd and grabbed Professor Weasley's attention.

"Ah, Miss Fenwick," Weasley barely looked up as she fumbled in her pocket and brandished her wand. "Can I help you find something?"

"Yes, Sebastian Sallow. His isolation period was supposed to end today, and I assumed he'd be here," She peered through the crack in the door with hopeful expectation.

"Sebastian hasn't been in isolation, dear," Professor Weasley stated before closing the door with a click.

"I'm sorry?" Nova's expression darkened. "I heard he was given a month-"

"He was," the older witch interrupted, locking the door with a flick of her wand before tucking it back into her pocket. "Unfortunately, he grew significantly distressed on only the first day, which forced us to reassess his punishment."

"The first day?" Nova repeated, her blood running cold. "May I ask where he has been for the past few weeks?"

"I'm truly sorry, but I can't divulge that information," Nova could see a glimmer of compassion behind the glare of Weasley's spectacles. "Please understand that Hogwarts takes its duty of care very seriously, so wherever he is, you can trust he's in safe hands."

"Is he within the castle, or has he been sent elsewhere?" Nova's anxiety wasn't eased by her words.

"As I mentioned, I can't discuss this with you. Please try to put it out of your mind. Maybe you should carry on with your-"

Nova's feet scarcely brushed the ground as she bolted down the corridor, leaving Professor Weasley's unfinished sentence in the air.

 

A blast of frosty air struck her as she burst through the doors and barrelled her way through the courtyard. The determined witch waged a losing battle against the wind as she penned a letter, the gusts lashing at the parchment as she fought her way up the rugged path to the owlery.

 

Dear Anne,

I'm reaching out with concern for Sebastian's welfare. Following a recent incident, he was given a month of isolation as a punishment. It has now come to my attention that he has been absent for a significant portion of these four weeks. Is he at home with you? I'd appreciate confirmation of his well-being.

Warm regards,

Nova Fenwick

 

Nova wedged herself into a rocky crevice etched into the hillside. She massaged the stitch in her abdomen as her eyes tracked the snowy owl's journey through the night sky until it blended into the stars. With Feldcroft practically a stone's throw from Hogwarts, she clung to the hope of a rapid response. Staying put would guarantee the owl would locate her immediately.

She redirected her focus towards the astronomy tower, squinting her eyes as she strained to discern a blinking red light within the far-off cluster of students. A flush of shame swept over her as she acknowledged her familiarity with Ominis' class schedule bordered on creepy.

 

The shelter from the wind rendered the night strangely quiet, broken only by the soft hoots of owls and the occasional rustle of leaves. Nova wasn't quite sure when she slipped into a light nap, but it couldn't have been more than twenty minutes before the gentle rustle of wings, and the delicate touch of parchment against her nose stirred her from her slumber.

 

Dear Nova,

I regret to inform you my health has been on a steady decline. Sebastian has been taking intermittent leave from school to care for me. I believed he was splitting time between home and Hogwarts. Is this not the case? He has alluded on numerous occasions to a remedy for my condition in the Feldcroft catacombs. He appears to be losing weight and is hardly sleeping.

I may resort to involving my uncle. I fear Sebastian may never forgive me, but your words have awakened me to the severity of his situation. I would be grateful for a visit if you can find the time.

With warm regards,

Anne Sallow

 

From the moon's position, Nova estimated it was nearly 9 o'clock. She clenched her teeth on the inside of her lip; paying a visit at this hour might come across as intrusive, but if Anne was distressed enough to involve Solomon, there'd likely be no objection to an untimely visit.

As she scrambled to her feet, the echo of Ominis' demand resounded in her skull as if he had just shouted it directly into her ear.

Don't leave the castle, avoid Hogsmeade, and stay away from Feldcroft. If you receive an invitation to go anywhere alone, report it.

The idea of reporting the situation felt somewhat dramatic. She had initiated contact with Anne, and it was undoubtedly Anne responding. However, his command to stay in the castle allowed little room for interpretation.

"Shit," the curse slipped from her lips in a puff of mist before vanishing into the wind. She expelled her frustration with a feeble kick at a loose stone and followed it down the rugged pathway.

 

With her nails digging grooves into the balustrade, she hauled herself up the final stretch of steps. She scoffed at the irony of the matron's advice to avoid physical exertion for eight weeks. Hogwarts was nothing more than one colossal staircase.

She had been oblivious to the thunderous racket of her heavy stomping on the wooden framework. Her unintentional performance came to a jarring halt as she rounded the corner, and the accusatory glares of several agitated students bore into her.

Ominis was unaffected by her dramatic entrance. He drew his cloak over his hand to shield against the cold as his wand weaved patterns across a map.

"Even when you're not in my class, you manage to cause a disturbance," Professor Shah's annoyance clashed head-on with Nova the instant she arrived, her hands instinctively planting themselves on her hips. "Ten points from Slytherin."

"What?" Nova shot back in a breathless gasp. "You don't even know why I'm here!"

Ominis' attention snapped into focus at the sound of Nova's voice.

"Another five points deducted for your overt eye-rolling," Shah snapped, gesturing commandingly for her students to continue their assignment.

"I'm sorry for the intrusion, professor," Nova swallowed her pride. "The headmaster has requested Ominis Gaunt's presence in his office immediately."

"Is that so?" She scanned her student from head to toe, assessing her sincerity. "Do you have a note?"

Shit.

"Um, no. It seemed relatively urgent. He caught me near the staircase-"

"What were you doing roaming around my astronomy tower while class was in session?"

" Your  tower?" Nova barely held back a sarcastic laugh.

"Apologies, Professor," Ominis interjected, coming to her rescue just as Shah's tight-lipped smirk threatened to devolve into a sneer. "My father is visiting Professor Black today. I was supposed to meet him at the headmaster's office, but I forgot."

Shah's lips tightened at the mention of the Gaunt's, "At this hour?"

Ominis' impeccable academic record earned him more trust as she waved off his explanation with a dismissive hand. "Leave your things. You'll return to complete the assignment whether we're still here.

 

A brisk breeze trailed behind them as they strode in unison down the lofty heights of the astronomy tower in an uneasy silence.

Nova quickly glanced his way, hoping to decipher his expression, and was relieved to discover he just looked amused. "What are you smirking at?"

"You barge into the middle of the class like a bull in a china shop, colliding with a teacher who already can't stand you, and you didn't even prepare an excuse?" If he was bothered by her sudden arrival, he concealed it well.

"I didn't mean to cause a scene," Nova defended on the off chance he harboured any irritation, though it appeared he didn't. She assumed they were in the clear, having failed to spot anyone she recognised in his class.

"Learn to use my surname to your advantage; it's my get-out-of-class pass."

"For a family you claim to despise, you certainly enjoy using them as a convenient crutch," she retorted with an eye roll.

"Keep rolling your eyes at me; maybe you'll stumble upon a brain back there."

"How did you-"

"My third eye is very perceptive."

The clot in Nova's chest felt a little lighter as his insult prickled across her depraved mind. "I've missed you," she confessed before realising the words had left her.

He was already smiling, but his attempt to curb it in response to her words was futile. He instead masked it behind an effort to shift the topic, "I assume you have a good reason for disrupting my education?"

"Did you know Sebastian's been missing for the past month?"

Ominis nodded, remaining oddly calm. "I've been keeping an eye on things. There's nothing to worry about."

"Your third eye is faulty. I sent a letter to Anne just to check on him..." She tugged the parchment from her pocket and slipped it into his hand. "Sebastian's not well. He's been talking about a cure in the catacombs, and Anne wants to involve Soloman. I was just on my way to visit her, but your incessant mother-hen voice warned me against leaving the castle."

"And you actually listened to it?" Ominis traced his wand across the letter, falling into silence as he perused the words.

Nova stole glances at the starry night sky through the arched windows as they marched on with no apparent destination. Her mind hooked onto the repetitive rhythm Ominis pounded out on the balustrade while he delved into his thoughts.

"You shouldn't have involved Anne." He finally muttered. "If Soloman suspects Sebastian is dabbling with dark magic, he'll report it to the headmaster. And if my family catch wind of Sebastian snooping around where they cursed... Well. I'm not sure what they'd do."

"Would they care?" Nova gave an idle kick to an abandoned gobstone, and it clinked its way down the steps. "In the grand scheme, all he's doing is poking around a cave that no longer contains Slytherin's relic. And remains clueless about getting to it, even if it were still there.

"He knows how to get to it. He's known for a while."

A pang of dread twisted her insides, "Then why hasn't he?"

Nova assumed Ominis was evading her question as he lowered his head and quickened his pace. She adjusted her speed to match his, and he broke the silence with an unsteady breath, "What was the requirement to enter the scriptorium?"

Her muscles clenched as her mind coiled around the memory, "The Cruciatus curse."

"What did he need to do to access that chamber in the catacombs?"

Nova grasped what he was alluding to, scolding herself for not recognising the pattern sooner. She paled, and her steps faltered as she grappled with Ominis' brisk stride.

"The Imperius curse.”

"So, what do you think he needs to do to get to that relic?"

"The killing curse," her voice cracked under the weight of the words. "But we know he wouldn't resort to something like that..."

"He's been trying to bypass it, experimenting with animals. The hatred required to cast the killing curse is achievable only by the most hateful wizards." Ominis' knuckles cracked as he gripped his wand tighter. "He's failed every attempt so far, and even if he didn't, I'm convinced it would only work on a human."

"If he's willing to take Anne down there, perhaps he's found a loophole?"

Ominis shook his head, closing his eyes in resignation, "There's no alternative."

"Alright, well..." She forced down the lump that had wedged itself in her throat. "What's the plan?"

"I'll find Professor Black. I could spin this into a family dispute. I'll have him contact my father and clarify that Sebastian isn't a threat."

"But Anne might not have told Soloman yet." She pulled Ominis to a sharp halt, tilting the letter against the light of a sconce to quickly scan through the words. "Here. Her exact words are, ' I may resort to involving my uncle .' That doesn't sound like she's going to tell him imminently. We might not be too late to stop her if we go there now."

"And what if she's already told him, and Soloman gets to Black first?"

Nova nervously picked at the paper's edge, "You go to Black's office. You can intercept Soloman if he shows up. I'll go to the Sallows and find out what's happening from Anne."

"You shouldn't leave the castle," Ominis countered, but his usual fiery stubbornness was absent. She sensed he didn't have a strong enough argument to refute her idea.

"Do you have a better suggestion?" Her eyes flitted across the letter, searching for hidden information between the lines.

After a brief pause marked by no discernible progress, hesitant hands settled on her shoulders. She could sense Ominis' reluctance as he began to speak, "Go  straight  to the Sallows, find out what's happening, and meet me outside Black's office as soon as possible."

Chapter 15

Notes:

I'd like to provide a heads-up that this chapter contains graphic violence, depictions of panic attacks, and scenes involving death including the death of an animal.

"Anne?" The howling wind drowned out Nova's voice as her knuckles rapped incessantly against the weathered door. With one hand clutching her hood to prevent it from being whisked away, she trudged through Solomon's flower patch to peer through the window.

A solitary candle on the dining table cast a weak glow across the empty kitchen and vacant living space. However, it fell short of the beds in the remote corner of the room. Nova strained her eyes to discern even the faintest hint of movement. Her breath hitched as she caught the sound of a muffled cry. Tumbling back to the front door, she grasped the doorknob and found it unlocked.

"Anne?" Nova whispered as she crept inside.

"Nova, is that you?" a frail hand weakly reached out from one of the beds.

"Yeah, it's me. May I come in?" Her words felt somewhat redundant, considering she had already broken in and now stood shivering in the entryway.

"Sebastian... needs help," Anne's chest rattled as she pushed out each word.

The gusts of wind hammering against the window panes made it challenging to hear her soft voice.

"Where is he?" Nova shuffled closer, summoning a dim lumos and allowing her soft light to fall upon the ailing witch. She fought to stifle a gasp.

Anne's skin had paled to an almost bluish hue. The once dark purple circles under her eyes had deepened into inky black with raised veins snaking out from beneath them, pulsing visibly with every strained effort she made to sit up.

Anne surrendered to her exhaustion and slumped back against her pillow. "He's… not at Hogwarts?"

"No… I don't think he's been at school for some time," Nova said, her concern overriding her manners as she began to sift through the scattered papers on Anne's bed. "And what about Solomon? Is it wise for you to be here alone?"

"He's work-" the words jammed in Anne's throat, and she convulsed with guttural coughs.

Nova shoved the blank pages aside and rushed to the kitchen, wrenching open every cupboard until she located the glasses.

"Here," Nova kept the cup steady as Anne took slow sips, pained whimpers escaping with each gulp.

"Soloman's working... taking on extra shifts," Anne breathlessly smeared the water that had trickled down her chin. "Could you... please... go get him?"

"I'm sorry, I can't explain in detail, but we can't mention Sebastian  or  the catacombs to Solomon. It could put Sebastian in serious danger."

"What? No... He needs help. We can't... let this continue."

"We won't," Nova placed a comforting hand on Anne's arm, trying her best to hide her reaction to the clammy layer of cold sweat. "We'll find a way to help him, I think Ominis has a plan-"

"You  think ?... Ominis hasn't been here... he doesn't know how Sebastian's been acting. He... needs help now!"

"I understand, but if you could just hold on a little longer..."

"No!" Panic pierced through Anne's pain as she mustered a meagre cry. "Does it  look  like I can wait longer?!"

"Alright!" Nova pinched the bridge of her nose. "Just give me a moment to think." She was led to believe Anne was the less explosive of the two, but she could have given her twin a run for his money when she was in full health. "When was the last time you saw him?"

"Not... not long ago. Told him about the letter... I sent you." Anne gestured to the papers strewn across the foot of her bed. "He sent a letter too... assumed it was for you… then stormed out."

"If the letter was for me, I haven't received it," Nova said as she picked up the quill and ran the feather between her fingers. "Is it a reasonable assumption that he's down in the catacombs?"

"That's my... best guess."

Nova groaned into her palm. She'd endeavoured to block out any memory of her previous venture to the catacombs. Whenever she found herself in a confined space or even a closed room, her mind was plunged back into that cave with the acromantula.

"If I go and find Sebastian, can I count on you not to inform Solomon?"

"It's dangerous," Anne mumbled weakly, her protest lacking the passion of her previous objections.

"I've been there before; I should be able to find my way around without much trouble. I'll bring him home," she said, though a twisting sensation in the pit of her stomach made her distrust her own words. If Sebastian was half as unstable as he had been in the Undercroft, trying to reason with him would be a lost cause.

"Where's your owl?" Nova grabbed a scrap of parchment and scribbled a note.

 

Ominis,

Sebastian's in the catacombs, and I'm going after him. It's the only way to keep Anne from informing Solomon. I need you here.

Nova.

 

 

The jagged edge of the cavern bit into Nova's skin, but she was sure it would swallow her whole if she dared to loosen her grip. Her eyes darted through the darkness, desperately searching for any sign of Sebastian lingering near the entrance, but there was nothing but shadows.

The biting wind made her eyes water as she glanced back down the path she'd clambered up, briefly considering waiting for Ominis. However, she knew he would likely insist on going in alone, and it would become a drawn-out ordeal. That thought spurred her on, and she took a clumsy step forward, channelling her fear into a blinding lumos.

A disillusionment charm offered some comfort but couldn't mask the retch when she came upon the decomposing acromantula. Her stomach churned with bile as her wand's light played tricks across the walls, making it seem like the spider was stirring back to life. Fear might have rooted her in place for a while if it weren't for the sound of footsteps snapping her back to reality. The inviting warmth of candlelight spilling from the adjacent chamber encouraged her onward, but it was Sebastian's voice cutting through the tunnel that soothed her unravelled nerves.

"Down here!"

Nova dispelled the charm and burst into the chamber in a billow of dust. Peering through the suspended candles from her vantage point, she spotted Sebastian pacing around the sarcophagus.

His eyes widened as they locked onto hers. "Nova?"

She shot down the ramp and crashed into him. He felt fragile as she wrapped her arms around him, and he was shockingly pale. The dark circles under his eyes were evidence of sleepless nights, but he was safe.

"I'm so sorry for everything; I never wanted us to fight. Where have you been? I've missed you." She babbled as she clung to him.

"Why are you here?" He tensed, his fists clenching tightly at his sides.

She blinked in confusion at his response, given that he had summoned her into the chamber only moments ago. Her relief faded sharply when she pulled back and noticed the wild fear in his eyes.

"Were you expecting someone else?"

She glanced past him to the stone carving they had uncovered using the Imperius curse. With a more transparent state of mind, she now noticed the intricate details. Her finger ran along the carved skeletons that held it up, noticing divots and faint blood trails marring the stone.

"You shouldn't be here." Sebastian's bloodied fingers clamped around her wrist in a bruising grip as he attempted to drag her toward the exit.

" You  shouldn't be here," she echoed, her fingertips brushing his bruised knuckles and broken nails, evidence of his erratic attempts to obtain the relic. "You need to come home."

"You don't get to tell me what I  need  to do."

Nova planted her heels firmly into the cavern's dusty floor, the abrupt halt causing both of them to stagger. She drew in a deep breath before addressing the topic of his sister. It was a risky choice but the only one that might garner his full attention.

"Sebastian, I don't think Anne has much time left; you should make the most of the time you have with her."

"You have no idea what you're talking about; I could save her if you stop fucking intervening!" Sebastian's readied wand crackled with anger.

"I'm just trying to help. Please come home for a little while so we can discuss this. Ominis is on his way-"

"Why did you involve him in this?" Fury tinged his words as he closed in on her. "I asked you not to, time and time again."

Nova resisted the urge to retreat and instead took a step forward. "You're not well, Sebastian. You need help."

Sebastian's forthcoming protest was stifled by a sharp crack.

A commanding figure loomed beside the stone coffin, dust settling at his feet. With an air of unruffled composure, he removed a speck of lint from his impeccably tailored black suit jacket. He cast it to the ground as if his sudden apparition were the most natural thing in the world.

Nova shrank against Sebastian as Marvolo's cold stare locked onto hers. It took a moment for him to recognise her, but his face twisted with disdain when he did.

"I explicitly instructed you, in rather precise terms, to be alone," Marvolo hissed, his voice dripping with venom. Nova lurched back as he advanced, her words reduced to fragmented syllables as she struggled to form a response. Marvolo's sharp eyes flitted to Sebastian. "Explain."

"I... She followed me, and I, I didn't mean to..."

Nova's mind raced a million miles an hour, yet she couldn't grasp a coherent thought. Her fingers made a barely perceivable twitch towards her wand, but Marvolo's hand moved like a blur. In an instant, she was disarmed, her wand sent tearing across the chamber and clattering to the ground.

He closed the distance between them with measured strides, thrusting the tip of his wand into her throat so forcefully she feared he might draw blood.

"I don't appreciate being summoned," Marvolo snarled, pointing a trembling finger toward Sebastian. "Are you under the impression your time holds greater precedence over mine?"

"No!" Sebastian staggered backwards, nearly losing his footing. "I'm sorry, my sister started involving others, I didn't have much time."

"That is not my concern. Now, we have this  situation  to resolve." A pained whimper was wrenched from Nova's throat as he drove the wand deeper.

"Y-you can let her go; she won't say anything. Nova, tell him… Tell him you were never here."

Marvolo arched an eyebrow, "Do you honestly believe you can ensure her silence?"

She shot a desperate look at Sebastian, but he remained silent.

She couldn't fathom why Marvolo was here, but she was sure Sebastian wasn't aware of his role in cursing Anne - he was acting far too passive. His hot-headed reaction upon discovering her and Ominis together in the aftermath of the fire made her believe if he were aware of Marvolo's actions, one of the two would likely be dead already.

"He cur—" Nova tried to voice a warning, but it was curbed as her body slammed to the ground.

Marvolo jammed his wand into her temple. She could feel herself screaming, but the sound was muffled and distant. Pain sliced through her mind as he tore through her memories with ruthless precision, unravelling every moment since she last laid eyes on him.

He watched her fight with Ominis on the bridge and her subsequent realisation that the Gaunt's cursed Anne. He searched for evidence she had divulged this information to Sebastian, but found none. Instead, witnessing her and Ominis agreeing to keep it between them, their night in the Undercroft, and their kiss the following morning. He skimmed through her weeks of heartache, suffering the absence of her two friends. He ripped away the legilimency spell when he reached her scribbling a letter to his brother, directing him to meet her in the catacombs.

She slumped to the floor, feeling as though he had flayed her brain and left it permanently damaged. She wanted to shout at Sebastian to run but couldn't even summon the strength to cry.

"What are you doing to her?" Sebastian's voice fluctuated in volume as her vision slowly cleared. "You don't have to do that."

Marvolo grabbed Nova's hair and jerked her face upward to meet his. Her eyes rolled back as she fought to sharpen her focus on his face. "I can't wait for my brother to discover the mess I'm going to leave behind," his hot breath hissed in her ear. He quietly muttered a silencing charm before allowing her to crumple to the ground.

Sebastian took a cautious step forward, but Marvolo's sharp snap of fingers brought him to an abrupt stop. "Tell me what we're doing here."

"I detailed everything I could in the first letter I sent you," Sebastian blurted out, grabbing the opportunity to occupy Marvolo's attention. "My sister has been cursed, and no one has been able to help her."

Marvolo cast a glance toward Nova, ensuring she was paying attention. "Go on, I've quite forgotten."

"I've been researching curses, and there's a relic in this chamber that could be the key," Sebastian explained. He stumbled over to the carved chest, pressing his palms against it as he swayed from exhaustion. "It holds ancient magic capable of bestowing and lifting dark curses. I need to cast a killing curse to open it, but I can't do it. Ominis has told me stories of your seventh year… how you killed a centaur?"

Marvolo's nostrils flared, unnerving Sebastian to the point that he pressed back against the cold cave wall.

"That's just what I've been told... Sir," Sebastian's eyes darted up and down Marvolo's imposing figure as if he had only just realised how unhinged this plan was. "If you help me gain access to the relic and use its power to heal Anne, you can keep it. I just want to help my sister."

Nova tried to scream through the charm, but it only made her throat burn red-hot as the magic stifled her attempts.

A cruel glint entered Marvolo's eyes as they locked onto her face. "An intriguing proposal," he drawled with a menacing smile. "What, or whom am I required to kill?"

"I've brought a Mooncalf!" Sebastian's face lit up, blissfully unaware of any underlying threats.

The malevolent wizard threw back his head and erupted into a scathing cackle.

"What?" Sebastian snapped, his hands clenching into tight fists as he bristled at being the object of mockery.

"What makes you think a beast would suffice?"

"I... The books  did  mention the curse needed to be directed at 'someone,' but I assumed casting the curse itself would be enough…"

"Do you believe Salazar Slytherin, the greatest dark wizard who ever lived, would truly accept that killing some insignificant creature would be a worthy sacrifice?" Marvolo sliced open the nabsack at Sebastian's feet, releasing a rush of wind that sent long-abandoned cobwebs snagging across the chamber walls. In its wake, a Mooncalf tumbled out in a dishevelled cloud of dust and fur.

The bewildered creature clambered to its feet, braying as it scampered around in sheer confusion. Nova recognised him by its heterochromia; it was one of Hogwarts' beasts, Poppy's favourite. She gathered some strength and reached out a twitching hand to soothe the nervous animal.

"Avada Kedavra," Marvolo's wand moved with a rigid flick.

The vicious flash of emerald lightning tore through the chamber. Nova's vision swung between pitch black and a smoky, scorched blur as she heard a mournful neigh and felt something keel-over lifeless at her feet.

Sebastian bolted toward the stone chest, slamming his fist down with a brutal crunch upon finding it remained tightly sealed. He unleashed a primal growl of either pain or frustration as his surge of hope vanished, his shoulders slumping as he sank to his knees.

Marvolo watched in amusement as he tucked his wand back into his pocket. "It needs to be a human…"

Nova stroked the velvety fur on the Mooncalf's neck with jittery fingers. Her clouded mind struggled to remember the name Poppy had given the creature, and that thought finally unleashed the tears and wrung a silent sob from her throat.

"… It's fortunate you brought one along."

Nova's teary stare slowly met the sinister grin on the Gaunt's face.

"What?" Sebastian's voice cracked as he positioned himself defensively in front of her. "No, not her. Absolutely not."

"Do you see an alternative? You've put yourself on this path, and now, you must walk it."

"You could, I mean... There must be someone else, someone more... more deserving. Surely, you know someone like that."

"Don't pin your moral dilemmas on me." Marvolo's furious strides closed in on Sebastian. " Your  choices led us here.  You  summoned me before you were fully prepared before your research was done." Marvolo raised Nova with his wand, lifting her off the floor so she hung suspended.

Sebastian swallowed hard, "I just... I can't make that choice."

"Are you suggesting you value the life of this half-breed more than your sister?"

"I'm saying she doesn't deserve to die," Sebastian whispered.

His lack of conviction made Nova's stomach churn, her screaming pleas suffocated by the grip of the silencing charm.

" Deserve  is subjective, and I'm pressed for time; you don't get the luxury of a moral debate."

A surge of adrenaline heightened Nova's focus. The gleeful sparkle in Marvolo's eye was all she needed to conclude this was nothing more than a cruel game, a prelude to his final strike. Sebastian's decision to reach out to the Gaunt's regarding his cursed twin had undeniably crossed a line, and they'd found it necessary to silence him. He was toying with them before butchering them both and abandoning their lifeless bodies for Ominis to stumble upon.

If she could speak, she might have bought time until Ominis arrived but questioned whether he could face Marvolo, and likely unstable Sebastian, single-handedly. Ominis was no duellist; his wand was a shield in times of danger, but it leaned toward defence, not offence. She needed to find a way to push Sebastian into action and get them out.

Her pleading eyes met his wild gaze as it darted around beneath his sweat-soaked curls, "Let me talk to her."

Yes, Sebastian.

There was a brief, tense moment when she feared his request might be denied, but Marvolo stripped her of the silencing spell with a self-assured grin.

Nova felt like she was vomiting words, her trapped thoughts tumbling out in a wild torrent.

"He cursed Anne—" Nova immediately realised she shouldn't have begun with that, but it was too late. Sebastian stumbled backwards, evidently not hearing the rest of what she was desperately trying to convey. "Noctua brought him to the scriptorium; he killed her and followed the same path as you. He already has the relic. He's here to kill you; he's going to kill us both; you have to get us out of here, Sebastian, please!"

Sebastian's ferocity resurfaced in the blink of an eye. "You're lying," he spat.

"Of course, she's lying," Marvolo's lips curled into a sardonic smile.

"Sebastian, you have to believe me. His family thought Ominis and Anne were involved in something that could tarnish their bloodline. He used that same curse as a threat against me."

"You're insufferable," Marvolo lifted her higher above the ground. "I won't endure this any longer. I'm leaving, and if you have any sense, you won't dare to contact me again."

"No, wait, please." Sebastian grabbed Marvolo's arm, but he hurled him to the ground in disgust.

Sebastian's knuckles whitened as his fists disappeared into the tangled strands of his hair. He gazed up at Nova, still on his knees. "She's my sister. She's everything I have."

Marvolo derived perverse delight from watching Sebastian's mounting pain, intentionally pushing him to the brink of hyperventilation.

Nova was assaulted by a profound sense of defeat. Even if, by some miracle, Sebastian didn't choose her over Anne, Marvolo intended to erase all loose ends; they were both dead regardless of the outcome. She reluctantly accepted the only way to put an end to Marvolo's sadistic game and alleviate Sebastian's suffering was to allow him to make the choice with as little emotional turmoil as possible.

I can't wait for my brother to discover the mess I'm going to leave behind.

She clenched her eyes shut and whispered a tearful apology to Ominis, grateful he wasn't present to witness this. "Do what you have to do, Sebastian," she choked out, her voice trembling. "It's alright, I understand."

 

A thunderous crack signified the impact of a spell before a searing pain ripped across Nova's back.

Her eyes snapped open, and she stared up at the floating candles swaying erratically, their flames flickering in and out of focus. She could hear shouting, but it felt miles away, drowned out by the ringing in her eardrums. The explosions of landing spells rocketed around her as she tried to crawl for cover, but her efforts to rise up were met with stubborn resistance.

"What do you think you're doing, boy?" A fierce voice roared from the entrance of the cave.

Marvolo deflected an aggressive spell, crimson sparks erupting in a fiery blizzard around him as he propelled it back towards the gruff voice.

Nova thrashed in a frenzied panic, her chest heaving as she fought to push off the oppressive weight that was pinning her down.

"Keep your head down," Ominis chided, firmly grounding her shoulder while the other deflected spells that threatened to ricochet their way. Her mind lagged behind as she stared at him, his words flowing straight through her.

Marvolo skilfully redirected another spell, steering its erratic trajectory directly towards them. Nova wrenched herself free and shrunk into Ominis, red sparks grazing her cheek as he returned the spell, striking Marvolo square in the chest.

"What's he doing here?" Ominis took her wrist and ushered her behind the sarcophagus, using it for cover. His hands glided over her face and threaded through her hair, inspecting for any signs of injury. "Has he hurt you?"

A tsunami of potential responses crashed down on her, leaving her struggling to articulate any of them.  Sebastian conspired with your brother. I told him everything.   He was going to stand by and let Marvolo murder me . "He killed Poppy's mooncalf," she broke down in anguished sobs.

Ominis clasped both of her hands firmly in his. "I'm going to get you out of here, alright? Do you think you can run?"

Nova twisted her legs more out of instinct than with clear intention, managing to cough out a feeble confirmation.

"Alright, good. I'll need your help detecting an opening."

The cave trembled as the dark wizard and former auror continued their furious spellcasting. Debris pelted them from above as young acromantula scuttled across the ceiling, disappearing into the rugged crevices of the rock.

"Soloman, please stop! Listen to me; we need him!" Sebastian pleaded, brushing away beads of sweat that threatened to blur his vision as they dripped from his furrowed brow into his eyes.

"You've crossed a line this time, Sebastian. She's beyond heali-" Soloman's words came to an abrupt halt as he was forcefully blasted into the wall.

Ominis hauled himself up, leveraging his wand to snatch hold of Marvolo and unbalance him with a forceful tug. He tumbled backwards, crashing unceremoniously to the ground. As he grappled to regain his composure, Soloman raised his wand, preparing for the decisive strike.

"Expelliarmus," Sebastian instantly disarmed his uncle.

In that fleeting moment of shock, Marvolo conjured a searing bolt of emerald lightning and directed it at Soloman from his position on the ground.

Soloman's body convulsed with electric energy as the spell struck its mark. He went rigid, folding in on himself, and then lurched forward from his elevated position, crashing violently to the ground just inches from Nova and Ominis.

Nova felt Ominis' fingers tightly interlocking with hers. He might have been shouting something, but she wasn't sure.

The lightning surged over Soloman's body one last time before shooting toward the locked box held by carved skeletons. Sebastian stumbled over his feet as he crashed to his knees and wrenched it open.

It was empty.

Chapter 16

Notes:

I'd like to provide a heads-up that this chapter contains graphic violence and scenes involving death.

Sebastian clawed at every inch of the hollow stone chest, his breaths torn and ragged, intermingled with forceful huffs, "It's here. It IS here."

Nova scarcely registered his garbled words. Coarse shingles tore into her palms as she frantically scraped at the ground, desperate to put some distance between herself and Solomon's crumpled body, but the sarcophagus at her back held her firmly in place.

"You've got to run. Find someone from the village who can apparate to the authorities or the Ministry."

The words reached her ears but slid through her consciousness without leaving any lasting impact. A presence intruded her field of vision, and her eyes stung as they recalibrated and snapped into focus on Ominis' face. "Do you hear what I'm saying?" He sounded composed, but the pressure of his fingers digging into her shoulders was desperate and painful.

"I told Sebastian everything." She tried to convey they needed to get him out before he confronted Marvolo, before he got himself killed, but the words remained lodged in her throat.

"What?"

"I told him about Anne. Get him out of here. We need to—now!"

Ominis ditched their cover, his foot catching on scattered bones, "Sebastian, we're getting out of here right now. Get up!"

If Sebastian heard him, he didn't react. His feral eyes darted wildly around the chamber, his search for the relic growing increasingly erratic as his shattered fingernails tore at the stone.

"You've been stoking father's anger." Marvolo hauled himself off the ground with all the grace he could muster. Still, the scorn that twisted across his face exposed the deep-rooted mortification of nearly being bested in a duel. "Do you know who bears the brunt when you do that?"

"I've washed my hands of you. Whatever you bicker about behind closed doors is none of my concern." Ominis gripped Sebastian's elbow, giving it a firm yank to pull him up. Sebastian's feeble resistance instantly crumbled as he slumped against Ominis. "You've had your fun. We've got the warning. Now, we're leaving."

Sebastian teetered on unsteady feet, and it became a struggle for Ominis to keep him upright. Fortunately, he appeared too disoriented to connect the dots and recall Nova's confession.

They stepped forward, but Marvolo's wand swiped into their path. "I'm not here to  scold . Our family affairs won't be exposed by  this ." he ran his wand up Sebastian's throat, pausing under his chin.

"He's not a threat."

"Well, that's not what father thinks. I've been ordered to silence him." Marvolo quirked an eyebrow. "Though I suppose that doesn't necessarily mean kill. I can think of another friend of yours who knows that all too well."

If Ominis felt intimidated, he hid it well. He shoved Marvolo's wand out of the way, making a move to pass him. "Nova, let's go."

"I could easily scramble their brains if you'd prefer. Crucio for an extended period would do the trick, you know." He leant into Ominis' ear and whispered, "That's what I did to Noctua."

Ominis' knuckles audibly cracked as he tensed, almost snapping his wand in half.

"She couldn't even speak when I was through with her. That would be the preferable option, don't you? I've always believed that children should be seen and not heard."

Sebastian had been teetering on the brink of unconsciousness but jolted to full attention as Marvolo's words struck a nerve. He pushed Ominis away, staggering and nearly collapsing to the floor. His bloodshot eyes darted between Nova and Marvolo as the pieces clicked into place. "She…" he stumbled, pointing at Nova. "She was telling the  truth ?" A heavy silence descended upon the room. "No, no, no," Sebastian began mumbling. "… You were helping me."

"Nothing more than a bit of fun, I'm afraid. I take pleasure in offering people a glimpse of hell before I send them to it."

Sebastian was a skilled duellist, but his blind fury made his onslaught of attacks reckless and predictable; his outraged cries betrayed his every movement.

Nova scrabbled at the bottom of her empty pocket for her wand. Had she been disarmed? The details of the past hour eluded her as she pressed her bloodied palms against the casket and fought to rise to her feet, squinting through the dazzling display of spells in an attempt to locate her missing wand.

Her vision twisted sideways as Ominis rammed into her shoulder and knocked back a malicious curse. A violent explosion of sparks erupted on impact with the wall, and a layer of rock collapsed into a billowing, dusty plume.

Marvolo possessed a broader range of significantly more powerful spells. Effortlessly dodging and swatting away Sebastian and Ominis' school-mandated attacks without flinching. Sebastian unleashed an onslaught of more malevolent strikes, but Marvolo easily manipulated their course. One blasted into Sebastian's chest and threw him back, his head meeting rock with a sickening crack. He dropped into a motionless heap on the ground.

Marvolo's simmering rage appeared to be mitigated by the unbalanced battle. With a nonchalant twirl of his wand, he advanced towards Sebastian's unconscious body with a look of icy amusement.

"Avada Kedavra!" Nova poured all her emotion into the incantation; she wasn't entirely sure if it was the correct one, and she still didn't have her wand, but her intentions hit the mark as Marvolo staggered backwards, his focus now on her.

"Your kitten has claws," he sneered, a predatory grin stretching across his face as he prowled toward her.

Ominis stood staunchly, shielding them both. He grunted and strained as he fended off the relentless onslaught of stinging hexes. He might not have been an adept duellist, but his defence skills easily matched Marvolo's skill at offence.

"Fuck this," the dark wizard spat in frustration as his strikes refused to land.

Ominis sensed what was coming. His intuition took over as he shielded his head with his arms, dropping his wand into Nova's lap as he crashed to his knees. A searing crimson bolt erupted from Marvolo's wand, obliterating the protective barrier Ominis had desperately been trying to uphold.

His familiarity with bracing his body against the Cruciatus Curse triggered fury-fuelled adrenaline that jolted some of Nova's instincts back into action.

She fought to her feet, but a visceral, gut-wrenching groan erupted from the depths of Ominis' throat before she could channel her anger constructively.

She dropped back to her knees beside him, pulling his head up onto her lap to stop the ground from tearing at his face as he writhed in agony. She whimpered through gritted teeth at the blistering sensation in her fingers as they pressed against his scorched skin.

She snatched up his discarded wand. Brandishing an unfamiliar wand during battle was a surefire way to get a rejected spell blown up in your face, but she was positive he deliberately passed it to her. She prayed that small action was sufficient enough for the wand to put its trust in her.

She aimed directly at Marvolo's face to disrupt his concentration. The wand obediently responded to her spellcasting, but he effortlessly deflected with a dismissive wave while upholding the curse. It was pure instinct on his part; he didn't even bother casting a shield.

The only noticeable flaw she could detect was that he seemed almost reluctant to finish her. Marvolo had a penchant for toying with his opponents before delivering the final blow. This granted her a slim window to gain an advantage.

She prepared to cast an explosion at his feet, but her aim faltered. Initially attributing it to exhaustion but quickly realising Ominis' wand was tugging at her hand, directing the spell toward the cavern ceiling. Barely uttering the incantation, the red spark prematurely streaked through a narrow crack, casting a fleeting blaze of light into the darkness before an earth-shattering crack tore the rock apart.

Nova cast protego with all her strength, and the shield bloomed around them. Marvolo's fixation on the cruciatus cost him precious seconds of protection as he scrambled to shield himself, his concentration shattering when he lunged to evade the collapsing rock.

Based on her prior experience, she knew Ominis would be disorientated as the pain subsided and given the bedlam of the cave-in, it must have been nothing short of horrifying. She gently rubbed his stinging skin as he trembled against her legs, and his ragged breathing began to regulate.

"Sebastian?" Nova's voice devolved into a coughing fit as the swirling dust inside their protective bubble invaded her lungs. She tried to cast some protection where she had last seen him, but the thick dust obscured her vision, making it impossible to pinpoint him.

Her vision gradually cleared, unveiling the catacombs buried beneath a tumultuous heap of rocks and boulders. Nova's eyes zeroed in on a trail of blood, slowly trickling across the ground and pooling at her feet. She tried to call out, but a surge of sickness clawed its way up her throat, choking off any attempt to scream Sebastian's name.

A tortured cry, forced through clenched teeth, erupted from the head of the stream of blood. Everything below Marvolo's knees was crushed. He cast the boulder aside with a wave of his wand, his screams muffled by the fabric of his sleeve as he attempted to move. The flattened flesh of his calves tore as he struggled to shift his thigh.

His consciousness teetered, and he slowly collapsed onto his elbow. His head swayed back, but a surge of determination breathed some life into him as his eyes fixated on Nova. His wand almost slipped from his grasp, and he fought to maintain his grip, summoning every ounce of his remaining strength to raise it in her direction.

"Avada Kedavra."

Nova hadn't realised how still the catacombs had become until Sebastian's surprisingly composed voice shot through it. The cave was momentarily engulfed in a searing green flash as it struck Marvolo—the blast echoed with a resounding crack before plunging back into a heavy silence.

He carelessly stamped through the expanding pool of Marvolo's blood as he clambered over to Nova and Ominis. "You knew," he snarled, his hand trembling as he jabbed his wand against Nova's neck. He was deathly pale, grit clinging to his skin in thick layers. "How?"

"Don't point that at me," Nova attempted to sound firm, but the wavering in her voice betrayed just how terrified she was of him.

" How ?"

She could hardly force herself to speak; her oesophagus burned, and there was a sharp stabbing pain shooting through her lungs every time she breathed in. "He told me. Threatened he'd do the same to me."

"What possessed you to keep that from me?"

"Sebastian," Ominis shook uncontrollably as he attempted to lift himself onto his palms. "I made her swear to keep it from you."

"You knew, too?"

A blast shot from Nova's hand, the realisation hitting her only after the fact that she was still tightly clutching Ominis' wand. It struck Sebastian, causing him to stiffen and begin to topple backwards. Her instinctive reflexes kicked in, and she caught him mid-fall and gently lowered him to the ground.

 

 

Nova stood in front of the Feldcroft noticeboard, numb. The biting wind whipped at her exposed skin, but she barely registered its sting. She carefully scrutinised every leaflet and letter, using the task as a distraction from the swirling images that her mind was grappling to process.

She fixated on the eyes of a petty thief - her contorted, snarling face captured on a wanted poster. The image screamed at her in desperate defiance until the composite sketch on the parchment warped and reformed into the next wanted criminal.

"Nova?" Ominis' gentle touch on her shoulder made her jolt. "We should get moving." There was a slight tremor underscoring his voice. He was handling the aftermath of the Cruciatus curse much more smoothly than she had. She guessed his resilience came with experience, and the thought broke her heart.

She responded with a subdued hum, her mind lagging a few seconds behind as it sought to process his words. She lingered for one last moment on the notice board, absorbing the details before the image seamlessly shifted again.

 

REWARD FOR INFORMATION LEADING TO THE APPREHENSION OF:

Sebastian Sallow

Wanted for murder – Approach with extreme caution.

 

"Are you alright?" Ominis asked as her breaths escalated into rapid hyperventilation.

She tore the poster from the board, blinking away her tears as she studied the image. The composite sketch revealed a boy with wavy brown hair and a smattering of freckles. He appeared slightly too young, his eyes a bit too close together.

 

REWARD FOR INFORMATION LEADING TO THE APPREHENSION OF:

Sullivan Scott

Wanted in connection to a breaking and entering – Approach with extreme caution.

 

"I'm just exhausted; eyes are playing tricks," she whispered, wiping away the tear stains on her cheeks and tucking the poster into the folds of her cloak.

Ominis' hand moved from her shoulder to intertwine their fingers, urging her to follow him. "The neighbours are apparating Sebastian and Anne to St Mungo's."

"Should we go with them?"

"They'll be safe. I want to get you away from here; you must go to bed."

A weak protest was on the tip of her tongue, but as soon as he mentioned "bed," every muscle in her body urged her to shut up and comply, and she followed him without further objection.

 

"What's in your belongings that's crucial right now?" Nova wearily ascended the astronomy stairs, summoning a small amount of strength to fuel her irritation with Professor Shah. She couldn't fathom why she'd insisted Ominis leave his belongings in her classroom—another item added to her ever-growing list of grievances with that woman.

"I specifically asked you to wait for me in our common room."

"I don't want to be left alone," Nova confessed with a vulnerability she was too drained to conceal.

Her lifeless stare fixed straight, focusing on the ache in her legs as she ascended the stairwell. Ominis' fingers tightened around hers, the lingering trace of the curse still inducing a subtle tremor in his reflexes.

"I've got a portkey, that's what I need," Ominis admitted, rounding the corner. The soft squeak of their shoes broke the quiet stillness of the observatory. "It takes me home."

"Why do you need that?" Nova couldn't comprehend how her body conjured the energy to produce goosebumps, but they crackled across every inch of her skin. "Why  now ?"

"I need to speak to my father."

Nova quickened, determined to be the first to reach his bag. Her fingers tightly gripped the handle as she pulled it behind her, afraid he might vanish the moment he touched it. "Is it to tell him about Marvolo? He'll find out about him whether or not you're the one to break the news."

"I don't doubt he already knows," Ominis said calmly, pulling out the chair from Shah's desk and wincing as he settled into it. "I wouldn't be surprised if he's already in the catacombs."

"We need to get to Sebastian."

The jolt of panic propelled Nova into action, and she began pacing relentlessly, the weighty satchel of Ominis' schoolwork banging against her heels. She couldn't understand why they'd let Sebastian and Anne out of their sight if Ominis knew his father would be close behind. "What if he tries to find him? St Mungo's won't be able to protect him. We need to take him away—"

Palms on her shoulders brought Nova's marching to a halt, and Ominis ran his hand down her arm to reclaim his confiscated bag. "Revenge will be at the bottom of his list of priorities right now, I promise. You need to breathe."

"What would be at the top?"

"He's lost his heir, which provides me with a bargaining chip." His books and parchment cascaded from his bag, landing unceremoniously on the desk as he began rummaging around in the chaos. "Maybe I can advocate for Sebastian's innocence and negotiate a deal."

"In return for what?" She pressed her palms against the metal railing to ground herself, though the skyline was rolling like waves. "Do you  have  a bargaining tool, or are  you  the bargaining tool?"

He stayed quiet, and for a heart-stopping moment, she thought he might have vanished. She spun around so fast that her vision distorted. He was still there when things returned to focus, clutching a small leather pouch that she assumed held his portkey. His eyes were shut as he absentmindedly tapped his wand against the table.

"You can't go back to them," she argued, praying he was reconsidering. "Sebastian assisted in killing Solomon. He killed your brother in cold blood with an unforgivable curse. I'm not sure there's any way we'll be able to spin this in his favour."

"It's not about  spinning  it; I've seen my family pay off law enforcement for worse crimes than this."

"Worse crimes than a double murder? Murder of their own blood?"

"There's a reason they haven't had Noctua pronounced dead," he was speaking with an unnatural calmness that indicated his mind was likely made up.

"…And you think it's a good idea to reason with that family?"

" My  family," he spoke softly, running his fingers through his hair. "Marvolo was right; everything we touch turns to ruin. The best thing I can do is take it far away from the people I care about. Sebastian shouldn't have used that spell, but you'd both be dead if he hadn't. It was self-defence."

She wanted to argue. It wasn't like Sebastian was just a blameless spectator; he had been on the verge of just standing by while she was killed. She knew he wasn't entirely to blame, but the fear she had suffered, knowing she was as good as dead the second she was pitted against Anne, was excruciating. Her vision blurred into a watery haze as she suppressed a sob.

She was pulled into something solid and warm, her breaths becoming heavy against Ominis' shoulder as he held her. They stayed like that for what felt like hours, though it might have only been seconds.

"Anne's torn about turning him in," Ominis spoke, breaking the silence as Nova's breathing steadied. "A part of her wants him to face the consequences, but another part can't bear the thought. She's lost her health, her uncle, and now possibly her brother. Considering all the pain I've caused her, I have to at least try to spare Sebastian, for her sake."

"Will you be enough of a bargaining chip to make that happen?" she mumbled, her words absorbed by the damp fabric of his cloak.

"My father always insisted I should have been the firstborn. Less erratic, more pliable—easier to manipulate."

"He sounds like a nice man."

He chuckled while reaching up to wipe the tears from his eyes, emitting a soft hiss as he inadvertently scrubbed against a cut beneath his eye.

I can heal that for you," Nova instinctively reached for her wand, only to curse softly as she discovered her pocket held nothing but the wanted poster. She tossed it onto Ominis' pile of parchments, figuring his wand would be more effective in healing him anyway. "Here, let me borrow your wand."

He spun the wand between his fingers, the smooth wood gliding against his skin, before passing her the handle. Nova's fingers, trembling from fatigue or the chill in the air, made their way to the side of his face.

"In the cave, I felt your wand redirect the spell," she started, noticing the slight concern in his expression as her hands trembled around his wound. "I was targeting Marvolo, but it ended up pointing towards the ceiling."

Reaching up, he gently covered her hand, steadying her unsteady grip. "It does that."

"Do you ever cast your own spells?" she probed, rubbing away as much congealed blood as possible with her sleeve before resting the wand's tip against the top of the wound.

"When things get disorienting, especially in life-or-death moments, it's like it has an instinct that takes over. I always thought wands choose their wizards, and if I had known mine would just... surrender to anyone..." His eyebrow quirked.

She released a breath that resembled a laugh. "Am I just anyone?"

"Evidently not."

She felt overwhelmed by a surge of affection but forced herself not to react, "Sebastian once told me your wand was sentient."

"I see why he would think that."

"Maybe it knows when it's in the hands of someone who loves you, someone who's trying to keep you safe," Nova said as she slowly ran the wand down the length of the wound, watching the skin gradually knit itself together.

After a few moments, she noticed that Ominis had stopped breathing, his jaw tense beneath her palm as she continued to heal his cut.

"Are you alright?" She leaned back to admire her handiwork; her eyes blurred and reeled from the shift in focus, and she nearly stumbled backwards.

"Are you?" Ominis reached out, cupping her cheek, and she instinctively leaned into the rare display of affection.

The rapidly approaching footsteps shattered the silence, making Nova glance at the clock. It was nearly three o'clock—students shouldn't be out of bed. The footfalls were too erratic, almost stumbling, ruling out the possibility of it being a professor.

Garreth burst around the corner, his face nearly as red as his hair, deep gasps escaping him as he clumsily steadied himself against the wall.

"Garreth? What are you running from."

"Running  to ," he corrected with ragged gasps between each word. "Looking for you… What are you doing… just standing here?"

Nova looked at Ominis, who appeared just as bewildered as she was.

"They're searching for you," Garreth declared urgently, his eyes wide with concern. "Professor Black has plastered notices all over the castle. Everyone's on the lookout for you."

"What are you talking about?" Nova assumed news had spread about Sebastian, and she wasn't prepared for the barrage of questions coming their way. As she moved to scoop up Ominis' books and cram them back into his satchel, she caught a glimpse of the wanted poster amidst the scattered papers. She blinked forcefully, her eyes playing tricks on her again, but the image stubbornly refused to alter.

"Ominis?" She was sure she said his name, but the sound seemed lost in the air. The books slipped from her grasp, hitting the floor with a flutter and thump. She lifted the parchment, her own eyes staring back at her.

 

REWARD FOR INFORMATION LEADING TO THE APPREHENSION OF:

Nova Fenwick

Wanted for murder - Approach with extreme caution.

 

She attempted to speak, but the resounding ringing in her ears drowned out any sound. Garreth animatedly conveyed something to Ominis, who promptly snatched the parchment from her grasp. Running his wand over the letters, his face turned notably pale.

"How is that even possible?" Nova locked her gaze onto Garreth as if he held all the answers. "We barely left; the police wouldn't have had a chance to sweep the scene."

"Weasley, how did you find us?" Ominis swiftly positioned himself between Garreth and Nova, gently prying his wand from her fingers.

"Shah made you leave your stuff in class. I figured I could cut you off if you returned to get it."

"Give me your wand," Ominis demanded, pointing his own toward Garreth as he advanced with his open palm outstretched.

"What are you doing?" Garreth raised both of his hands defensively, his eyes darting between the pair of them. "You don't seriously think I'm here for the reward, do you?"

"Ominis, he's okay," Nova interjected, positive Garreth wasn't capable of ever being a threat.

"Then let him prove it. Wand."

Garreth rolled his eyes but withdrew his wand from the depths of his cloak and slapped it into Ominis' outstretched hand. "Thank you for the warning, Garreth; it's been invaluable," he mumbled. "I came to find you because I think I can help. I was making a batch of Thunderbrew the other day, experimenting with the ingredients to see what would happen. I used a bit too much haliwinkle, and at first, I thought it might work as a—"

"Garreth, the point."

"Right, sorry. I made this." He sidestepped around Ominis, giving him a weary once-over before pulling a handful of clinking vials from his pocket. "I call it mimicry mist. Drink it; it transforms the surroundings into a storm, just like Thunderbrew, but to the extreme. Visibility drops to zero. Instead of disorientating with thunder, I altered it so that it mimics noises—whispers, faint echoes of your own voice. I made it with the intention of it being used for defence, to disorient pursuers and help slip away unnoticed, and look at this," he slapped his palm against Nova's wanted poster with gleeful delirium. "Perfect testing opportunity."

"So, your mission isn't to rescue Nova from a false arrest; you're here just to have her test one of your home brews?"

"I can have two motives. Do you want the potion or not?"

"Yes, thank you, Garreth," Nova accepted the tiny glass vials from him and gave one a shake. The shimmery silver liquid swirled like a rolling cloud within the confines of the phial.

"You're welcome. Just... if you get the chance, shoot me an owl, letting me know how it went. The taste, how you felt, how effective – that kind of thing."

Ominis clasped Nova's hand firmly. "We have to move."

The three of them sprinted down the staircase, Ominis muting their frantic footfalls with a silencing charm.

Nova clung desperately to the handrail, her grip the only thing preventing her from catapulting headfirst down the spiral staircase, "Do you think we could lie low in the Undercroft?"

"What's an Undercroft?" Garreth's foot almost slipped on a discarded gobstone, and it chased them with a series of echoing clinks as it tumbled down the steps.

"No, that's the first place they'll look," Ominis sidestepped Garreth's question. "We need to travel by floo."

"They? But how would anyone even—?" Nova started, but the realisation hit her. "You believe your family is involved in this?"

"Oooo the  Gaunt's  did it?" Garreth's question was punctuated by a dramatic gasp, followed by a whispered, "What did they do?"

"It's a large reward," Ominis said, his voice lowering as they neared the base of the astronomy tower. "More than the authorities would put on the table. My fathers searching for you."

Nova snagged Garreth's hood just in time to prevent him from careening around the corner. The sounds of Professor Hecat herding confused Ravenclaws, all deeply engaged in wild theories, rang through the corridor. The typical emergency evacuation to the Great Hall appeared to be underway, but they were taking their sweet time, and time was a luxury they couldn't afford.

Ominis reached into Nova's pocket, helping himself to a vial of Garreth's concoction.

"Is this going to blow us up?" Nova asked Garreth, smacked by a vivid memory of their first potions class together.

"Well..." He swayed slightly as he shifted his weight. "You've got to keep in mind it's still just a prototype... and, well, it's a different batch from the one I've tested before, so there might be some variations."

Ominis rolled the potion bottle between his fingers wearily. "Why are you helping us? How can you be sure we're innocent?"

"Are you?"

"Yes."

Garreth shrugged, "I believe you."

Nova was hit with a twinge of guilt at his loyalty, given that up until now, she hadn't seen him as a friend so much as she had a mildly annoying herbology partner. She pulled him into a tight hug.

"A cuddle isn't going to cut it, Sunshine. I better be getting a godchild out of this."

"Provided this potion works, we'll name him Garreth," Ominis remarked with a wry smile, nodding appreciatively. Nova barely had a moment to grasp the weight of his words before he downed the potion.

For a brief moment, nothing seemed to happen, and Garreth's expression fell. Ominis' eyes flickered up; their striking blue had shifted into a brooding dark grey. Misty clouds swirled around him—dense, just as Garreth had described.

Nova registered the solid clasp of Ominis' grip around her wrist just as her vision was consumed by the swirling fog. Students were screaming and crying out as they ran, and Nova was sure she heard Sebastian's voice calling to her amid the chaos. She closed her eyes, reassuring herself that the spell was doing its job. They crashed into the scattered, terrified students and barely dodged a wild elbow that nearly knocked her down. The anarchy began to fade away as quickly as it had arrived, dwindling into the distance behind them, and they slipped down the hall.

"Do you have any relatives with a floo connection we can go to?" Ominis huffed over his shoulder as the potion effects began to wear off, their footsteps resonating through the desolate corridor.

"No one that I trust to hide us."

As her vision cleared, Nova stumbled over her feet and nearly ended up on the floor. A memory of falling to this floor with Sebastian flashed in her mind, though the details were hazy. They had been running together, laughing. Tears welled in her eyes as Ominis tried to pull her toward the flames, but she firmly dug her heels into the ground.

"Me and Sebastian were here," her thoughts were cloudy as she pulled herself upright using the tapestry of Barnabas the Barmy. They had been racing through the corridor, crisscrossing past each other in a search for something. Something elusive. As the fog of the memory lifted, her eyes widened, and she propelled herself back in the direction they had just come.

"What are you doing?!"

"Trust me," she mumbled, trying to maintain clarity. What was it they needed? Somewhere, they could hide and strategise. A place to rest and recharge – this thought slammed an image of her cosy dorm bed into her mind, but she tossed it away. Refocusing on what they urgently needed, she spun on her heels and dashed back towards Ominis.

Deep grooves began etching into the wall's stonework, spiralling and curving to form an ornate archway. The stonework seamlessly gave way to wooden planks as a door crept forward. Nova seized Ominis' hand, yanking him as she burst through the doorway. She slammed the door shut behind them with a forceful thud, panting heavily as she leaned her back against it, taking a moment to catch her breath.

"There's no room here," Ominis bumped into her as he attempted to retreat against the entryway. "This room shouldn't exist. Where are we?"

Nova's eyes fluttered open; her first impression was that they had landed in her dorm room. A familiar trunk, identical to her own, rested on the floor. It even had her spare clothes and pyjamas scattered haphazardly across it, just where she'd flung them this morning. As her eyes adjusted, she noticed that the room was significantly smaller, keeping its circular shape and emerald embellishments, but her roommates' beds were noticeably missing.

"Sebastian mentioned it. That book he found in the restricted section had a piece on secret rooms in Hogwarts, and this was one of them. I can't recall the name, but it conjures whatever you need."

" Need  is subjective; if someone  needs  to find you, won't they stumble upon you?"

Nova instinctively moved towards her bed, her entire body relaxing as she perched on the edge. "As far as I know, this place isn't common knowledge."

"So, it's impossible to stumble upon?" Ominis pressed urgently, exploring the room, his hands trailing along the walls.

"Uhh..." Nova reminisced about how she discovered the room in the first place. Professor Shah had refused to let her use the toilet during class in her first week. Not knowing where she was, she must have sprinted up and down the corridor searching for the toilets and ended up using this room when it presented itself as a toilet. "For the most part."

"I don't trust it." Ominis started circling the room, running his wand across every ridge he could find and chanting 'revelio' every few seconds.

Nova allowed him to go about his business, stripping off her soiled clothes and using them to wipe away the clinging grit on her skin. After pulling on her pyjamas, she slumped into bed like this was an average Tuesday night. "I've got some fresh clothes here if you want," she mumbled, already feeling sleep taking over.

"What if they're right behind us?"

"Well, this is a spectacular way to spend my last few minutes of freedom," she yawned. Her eyelids grew heavy as she watched him ponder his next move. Exhaustion was creeping in, but she sensed a gentle dip in the bed right before it could fully take over.

 

Chapter 17

Notes:

In this chapter, I bring up the Wizengamot a few times. If you're not familiar, they're essentially wizarding Britain's high court and act as the jury in criminal trials. I realise that not everyone is steeped in Potter lore and wanted avoid any confusion :)

 

 

 

Ministry of Magic Headquarters

Department of Magical Law Enforcement

Whitehall

London

 

Witness Details

Name: Nova Jean Fenwick

Occupation: Apprentice Healer

Date of Birth: 11 Oct 1873

Wand Registration Number: W-2738-UKR

 

Trial Details

Case Number: C-1892-27861

Date of Incident: 7^th February 1891

Date of Trial: 23rd December 1891 [Delayed]

Date of Trial: 25th April 1892 [Delayed]

Date of Trial: 23^rd August 1892

 

Nova fought to drown out the overwhelming sea of robes swarming in her peripheral vision. There were typically fifty or so Wizengamot members present during trials. Still, it felt like an endless parade of magical law enforcement poured through the doors draped in pretentious plum-coloured velvet. Each gown had a flamboyantly embroidered silver 'W' stitched into the chests, most of which were puffed out in an ostentatious display of self-importance.

Forcing herself to ignore the judgmental stares that loomed overhead, Nova used whatever time remained to skim through the details of her statement. Despite the countless rehearsals with Sebastian, she still felt like she was set to crumble the moment she faced questioning. As always, she was drawn to the sentence that frightened her beyond belief—hovering just above her scrawled signature.

 

I understand that any deliberate misinformation can result in severe consequences, including prosecution for perjury, termination of magical privileges or imprisonment in Azkaban.

 

In courtroom protocol, the Ministry legal team typically claimed their seats second only to the accused. Nova sat alone on the witness bench, holding onto the hope this meant the other key witness had chosen to abstain due to his family's current circumstances. That optimism was crushed as the ornate doors gracefully parted open.

In less than a heartbeat, she had dissected Ominis from head to toe, silently suppressing the unease that churned in her gut.

He had shed his youthful features, standing taller and broader, the contours of his cheekbones and jawline now chiselled into sharp angles. He had traded his guiding wand for a sleek black cane, which he clutched tightly at his hip.

His mother trailed closely behind him—an ashy-haired, skeletal woman who bore a disturbing resemblance to an inferius drenched in a thick layer of makeup.

 

Doesn't he bear a striking resemblance to his father?

…Speaking of, I've heard he's not showing any signs of improvement. If he's too unwell to attend his own son's murder trial, it must be dire.

The son's fiancé is missing too. All the delays they've caused, and only half of them bother to show up.

 

Ominis retaliated with a cutting glare in the direction of the scandal. The ruthless intensity of his ashen eyes efficiently silenced the judgmental wizards, forcing them to clear their throats and divert their scrutiny.

Faris Spavin, the Minister of Magic, wobbled to his feet. The cavernous wrinkles of his sunken face stretched with the taut grin that spread across it. He shook Ominis' hand and escorted him and his mother to one of the benches erected around the room in tiers.

The Minister sank into the plushness of his high-backed chair behind his grandiose podium. Silence shrouded the room - broken only by the rustle of parchment as he sifted through a substantial stack of paperwork.

"We convene today for the trial of Sebastian Sallow," he proclaimed, gesturing toward one of the Aurors stationed by the door. "Bring him in."

Despite Nova's persistent nagging about needing a decent haircut and a respectable outfit, he was more prepared than she'd given him credit for. With slicked-back hair and a jet-black suit that looked suspiciously beyond his financial means, he exuded the atmosphere of someone straight out of the aristocratic section of the Daily Prophet. He was escorted up the shallow steps; the chains adorning the arms of the chair emitted a threatening clink but refrained from physically restraining him.

"These legal proceedings on the twenty-third of August eighteen-ninety-two," droned the Minister, his quill springing to life as it diligently initiated notetaking. "The charges brought forth pertain to the engagement in forbidden magical practices that resulted in the unfortunate demise of both Marvolo Gaunt and the accused's uncle, Soloman Sallow."

His monotonous, drawn-out words regarding legalities threatened to lull the attendees to sleep as he delved into details and listed each high-ranking ministry official present.

Sebastian rubbed his freshly shaved chin absentmindedly; his gaze wandered through the crowd until it found Nova. He offered a comforting nod, though the gesture did little to alleviate the tight bind constricting her throat. She studied his features for any signs of reluctance, but he appeared remarkably calm, even exhibiting a hint of satisfaction as he turned to stare up at the bare bones of the Gaunt family.

"Mr. Sallow…" Spavin rearranged his notes, laying out Sebastian's statement on the counter. "Could you, in your own words, provide an account of your actions and motivations on the days leading up to, and including, the seventh of February eighteen-ninety-one?"

Sebastian immediately captivated the courtroom with his mournful recounting of Anne's curse. He didn't shy away from the gruesome specifics – breaking down the inner workings of the curse, how it slowly corroded Anne's body until her vital organs couldn't keep up with the struggle to sustain her fragile life. If left untouched, it metastasised. Any attempt to remove it only drove its roots deeper into her flesh. The crowd hung onto every word, their faces shifting from pity to downright horror.

"She passed away in St Mungo's two days after my uncle. I held her hand…"

An ethereal tapping wove through the air as the enchanted ceiling simulated a gentle rainfall, dispersing over an invisible barrier before it could cascade onto the stand. Sebastian rubbed streaks of fallen moisture from his cheeks, the rain easing in tandem with his attempt to compose himself.

He recounted their sixth year, revealing how he scrambled to find a cure for Anne's suffering and happened upon the lore of an ancient magic-infused relic, avoiding any mention of unforgivable curses.

Nova had been mesmerised by the billowing clouds overhead reflecting the ebb and flow of Sebastian's emotions but was snapped back to attention as he delved into the crucial segment of his testimony.

"There was a rumour at Hogwarts around Marvolo Gaunt dabbling in forbidden magic." There was a hitch in his voice as he nervously surveyed the room. "It sounded farfetched, but with the cure within reach and no idea how to obtain it, I asked him to meet me in the catacombs."

For months, she had pleaded for Sebastian's cooperation. It was a relief when he finally relented, but he had stubbornly refused to disclose  why . The sudden turnaround happened at such breakneck speed that she still struggled to trust it was genuine.

She sucked in a breath, but he pressed on without a hint of hesitation.

"Marvolo didn't have any knowledge of dark curses or dark magic, and he demanded that we leave for our own safety. Anne was on her deathbed, and giving up when I was so close felt like murder...." His voice cracked, and a distant rumble of thunder boomed across the ceiling as he sucked in a sharp breath. "He threatened to bring in the authorities and use force to drive me out. I perceived that as an attack, which resulted in a... confrontation."

"Elaborate on your use of the word  confrontation ," Spavin glared at him over the top of his half-moon spectacles, doubt thinly veiled behind the lenses.

"I tried to stun Marvolo to continue the search, but he rebounded the spell. That's it – the next thing I knew, I woke up in hospital."

"You have no recollection of anything in the catacombs, not a single fleeting sound of your uncle's arrival? The ensuing demise of both individuals?"

"No, sir. Nothing."

Spavin exhaled harshly, running the tip of his wand through his thinning hair absentmindedly. "Mr. Sallow, we discovered traces of dark magic at the scene, along with a slew of poorly executed curses—strictly forbidden by the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. Can you share your insights on this matter with the court?"

"I don't know much about this subject, but my uncle did. As for whether he used those spells in the catacombs, I can't say for certain, but that's my best guess."

An official seated near the Minister's podium chimed in, "Solomon Sallow dedicated twelve years to the Ministry before being discharged for deploying a cruciatus curse to subdue an offender." The revelation caught the other court officials off guard, prompting a ripple of thoughtful murmurs. "It's reasonable to suspect he was well-versed in the curses you speak of."

Spavin silenced the room with a raised hand, "You, Mr. Sallow, triggered this chain of events.  As per your testimony, you  delved into dark magic, invited Mr Gaunt into the catacombs, and engaged in a conflict with the deceased. Do you hold yourself accountable for the fatalities?"

Whispers erupted among a few scattered witches on the benches. A handful nodded in agreement, but the majority frowned and shook their heads.

"No, sir. I never intentionally associated with dark magic and didn't cast the spell that ended lives."

Nova shot another glance at Ominis, her gaze snagging on his mother, who glared back with absolute disdain. Her son was absorbed in a hushed conversation with a man seated directly behind him. He didn't appear to be a ministry member, but he also didn't fit the profile of a Gaunt.

“… Nova Jean Fenwick, to the stand.”

She attempted to heed Poppy's advice of picturing the crowd nude as she took the seat conjured next to Sebastian, but her imagination didn't cooperate. The countless faces of the crowd blurred together as they bore down on her, eventually landing on Ominis leaning forward in his seat.

He was clothed in a tailored ebony suit and bore subtle hints of  Gaunt . Family crest cufflinks, delicate emerald lining, the serpentine head of his cane—every detail seemed carefully selected to flaunt his heritage. Despite his undeniable beauty, a bitter atmosphere clung to him now, mirroring the emotionless expression formerly worn by his brother.

"Miss Fenwick," The Minister lingered a beat too long on each syllable of her name, scrambling to search for her witness statement. He squinted down at her until his spectacles dug into the sagging flesh around his eyes. "You were a classmate and friend of both Sebastian Sallow and Ominis Gaunt before their removal in their sixth year; is that accurate?"

"Yes, sir."

"Have you maintained regular communication with both individuals over the past eighteen months?"

"I visit Sebastian regularly. I've had no contact with Ominis."

Her response triggered a low hum of gossip throughout the Wizengamot as Spavin persisted in his search for the essential paperwork, "You were present in the catacombs with Sebastian Sallow at the time of the incident… Post-incident, you obstructed justice by fleeing the scene and eluded authorities for over thirty hours."

Nova fought to maintain an air of composure, though she was confident the blood had drained from her face. She'd invested hours fixating on the details of what had happened during Sebastian's supposed 'unconsciousness'. Planning tirelessly and sacrificing sleep - all to satisfy a man who wasn't even present. Now, the Minister was glossing over all her meticulous preparations.

"Reports were delivered to Marvolo Gaunt senior, courtesy of Professor Black, no less, suggesting you threatened a student to obtain a tampered potion, leading to your disappearance following the death of his eldest son."

Upon hearing this statement, Ominis eased back in his chair, signalling to the man seated behind him.

"Could you clarify your whereabouts during this critical timeframe?"

Nova didn't pay attention to the Minister's question as Ominis' companion rose to his feet and strode silently to the stand. The disruption threw her off. She scrambled to grasp at the fraying strands of their fabricated narrative. A clap of thunder directly above startled her into a panic. Memories of her time in the room of requirement began streaking through her lies despite her efforts to suppress them.

 

8th February 1891

Nova was stirred from her fitful sleep by a distant smash.

Her limbs pulsed in agony as she fought to haul herself upright, taking a moment to adjust her eyes to the dim chamber.

Having already been kept awake by his incessant writhing, she tried not to be annoyed that Ominis' had now decided to pass the time with a clamorous game of wizard chess.

"Sorry, did I wake you?" His voice was raspy. His head drooped with every slow blink as if he might doze off if he kept his bloodshot eyes closed for just a second too long.

She was sure he hadn't even tried to rest. As the initial shock had worn off and fear took root, she had to admit there had been some solace in being roused every hour like clockwork. His routine of resetting anti-detection charms and inspecting the door's security for the umpteenth time constantly reminded her that she wasn't in this alone.

"Don't worry about it," she grumbled, a sharp pain grating her throat with every syllable. She forced herself to swing her weary legs out of bed and drag her protesting limbs to join Ominis at the table. The furniture was a replica of that in her dorm, right down to the chip on the left leg courtesy of Imelda being a sore loser.

"You're not looking well, Ominis. You need sleep."

"I'm fine," he dismissed with a wave as his focus shifted back to the chessboard. "Knight to E three."

Her scrutiny of the deep purple bruises underlining his eyes shattered like the white bishop. The ceramic shards exploded across the table, showering fragments into her lap.

"Who's winning?"

He scoffed quietly, sweeping away the rogue shards that had landed on his arm. "Chess helps me think."

"But how do you keep track of the board state?"

"I have a good memory."

She rolled her eyes, seizing his discarded wand to summon parchment and a quill from the bedside table. "I can never tell if you're being truthful or winding me up."

"Assume it's around fifty-fifty," he suggested with a wry smile.

"Are you being truthful or just winding me up?" she half-joked, smiling when she detected a faint exhale resembling a laugh. "I'll ask Garreth to rustle up some truth serum, get some straight answers out of you for once."

Ominis' smile tightened into a taut line as he sat upright. "Is that who you're writing to?"

"Mm-hmm." Her eyes burned as she closed them to think, the feather of the quill dancing against her jaw, "He wanted to know how the potion tasted and how it felt," she said, glancing up at Ominis, whose leg had begun to jiggle cantankerously under the table. "So, how did it make you feel?"

He sidestepped her question, restoring the chessboard with a flick of his wand and gesturing for her to make a move. "Ask me anything, I'll play the part as if I've taken veritaserum."

"You can start by telling me how the potion made you feel so I can let Garreth—"

"Forget about Garreth." His tone wasn't unkind, but the forced sweetness masked an undercurrent of something less gracious.

"Are you jealous?"

She witnessed the instant regret flash across his features as he wrestled with the decision of lying on the first question posed.

She waited for his response, but the lingering silence seemed to serve as his confession. Not entirely satisfied with his interpretation of 'truth' simply meaning 'not lying,' she chose not to dwell on it. Placing the parchment on the floor, she randomly selected a pawn and commanded it to move forward.

"Fine, forget about the potion, but I still want to know what you're feeling." She had initially associated the red rings around his eyes with sleep deprivation, but perhaps he had been crying.

He paused momentarily to tap his fingers against the table, his attention more absorbed in the chessboard than her question. "Pawn to E five."

"I know your relationship with your brother wasn't the best, but he was still family..."

Ominis let out a long exhale, pushing the heel of his palm into his eyes, "I've been waiting for the grief to hit, but it's not happening. I don't think it will."

The wave of guilt that hit her was crippling, "I'm sorry. If I hadn't followed Sebastian..."

"He'd have got himself killed," he cut her off, his grip tightening on the edge of the table until red indentations marked his skin. "The only reason I wish Marvolo wasn't dead is so I wouldn't be obligated to return home."

Nova's gaze dropped to her hands, nails idly picking at the chipped wood of the table as she directed her knight to advance across the board. "You don't have to go home, we'll find another—"

"Did you deliberately expose your knight just to fluster my humble little pawn?"

"Was that a bad move? I'm not great at chess."

"Clearly", he chuckled, though there was a hint of disappointment at the lack of a challenge. "Knight to C six." His black knight advanced, striking Nova's pawn and scattering debris across the table.

"Hypocrite, you just exposed your knight to take down my little pawn!"

"Since you assured me you're not a threat, I'm going on the offence," he spoke sardonically, retracting his feet to narrowly dodge a playful thump aimed at his shin. "Any other questions? Perhaps on the finer points of chess?"

"You mentioned it helps you think," Nova observed, flicking a piece of her shattered pawn in his direction. "What have you been thinking about?"

He propped his elbow on the table, his chin finding support in his hand. "I've been thinking about your wand."

"My wand?" She repeated, encouraging him to elaborate before her stomach lurched with dread. "Where is my wand?" With sleep under her belt and a clearer state of mind, she realised the significance of not being by her side.

"That's how my father established you were at the scene so quickly—the authorities must have found your wand," Ominis' calm tone grounded her slightly.

"But if they'd had run a diagnostic, they would have seen that all I cast in the catacombs was what... a lumos?"

"No one believes you're to blame for my brother's death, nor do they care. My father's deepest fear is having no living heirs and the subsequent death of our family name. He's exploiting you to lure me out."

Nova gnawed at the frayed sleeve of her nightdress. If the Gaunt's were in a frenzied panic trying to locate him, it might grant Sebastian and Anne a bit of peace to focus on their recovery. "Not to say 'I told you so' or anything, but you came dangerously close to falling into his trap when you nearly went home last night."

"Regardless of any trap, my point remains—I can use my cooperation as leverage to get you and Sebastian out of this mess."

"Me, perhaps, but Sebastian? I can't imagine your father letting this slide without holding  someone  accountable."

"He won't, but it doesn't have to be Sebastian." He shifted in his seat, an ugly emotion trying to gouge out from behind his detached stare, "He's devoted to preserving the family image, but my brother has always been too erratic to uphold it. A crafted testimony from Sebastian could salvage the Gaunt's public perception; it'll sway my father to keep him alive. I'll negotiate a narrative that favours Sebastian too; it's either that or I'll tell the truth..."

"But there's still no one being held responsible for your brother's murder."

"When Sebastian was rendered unconscious, he stayed that way. He's oblivious to what happened in the catacombs. He woke up in the hospital and was told Marvolo was murdered by the killing curse..." He forced out his words, his stoic expression crumbling as shame broke free, "At the hands of a disgraced auror who was expelled from the ministry for using unforgivable curses."

Nova's stunned eyes hunted for any sign that he grasped the irony. He was perceptive enough to follow her thought process, desperately trying to convince her of his moral decency.

"I'm not like my father. I would never falsely accuse an innocent person. I thought perhaps Soloman would have approved, using his name to ensure Sebastian doesn't go to Azkaban."

It was entirely plausible that had he survived, Solomon would have committed Sebastian to Azkaban himself. Ominis' eyes flickered behind timid lids; they begged for assurance that he wasn't walking the same path as his family. Nova couldn't summon the dishonesty to tell him this plan was morally justified. It reeked of Gaunt.

She reached out, gliding her fingertips over his clammy palm. "I need you to give it more thought. There are flaws." Their fingers seamlessly wove together as he allowed a captive breath to escape his chest.

"What flaws?"

"The most glaring one—how do you plan to convince Sebastian to spin the story in Marvolo's favour?"

Thoughtful silence slotted between them as his shoulders went limp in response to the apparent setback.

"...and how will you persuade the self-proclaimed Hogwarts star dueller to admit he was promptly knocked out…"

"I see your point."

She pondered how long it would take him to address the evident plot holes in his fabricated narrative, feeling an increasingly urgent need for a toilet. As the thought flickered through her mind, the stone walls responded with a faint quake, and bricks began withdrawing, carving out a rectangular archway. The other side of the wall was pushed away, unveiling a petite space with a toilet and shower. A door ascended from the ground, seamlessly aligning with the wall and establishing hinges.

"We've got a bathroom," she declared flatly to Ominis, who appeared somewhat terrified by the sudden noise. "I'm calling off this match and making a beeline for that shower."

"No need. You marched straight into checkmate," he responded, Nova's king meeting an immediate demise. "Once you're done, I'll give you a lesson in strategy. You need one."

"You're going to sling that accusation at me after your disaster of a plan?" Nova moved with a slight stumble on her sore legs toward the bathroom, but she paused at the door. "Ominis, has the 'veritaserum' worn off yet?"

"It depends on the question."

"Can you promise not to leave without letting me know? Every time I glance away, it feels like you'll disappear when I look back."

He turned around, his face stained with an unreadable emotion. "Do you believe I would do something like that to you?"

"No, it's just that… Well, after you nearly left last night..." she squirmed, despising the vulnerability. "I just need to hear you say it."

"You have my word; I won't vanish while you shower."

 

She emerged in a bathrobe clinging to her damp body, intending to borrow Ominis' wand for drying her hair. Whether it was the sudden shift in temperature from the steamy bathroom or some other factor, a wave of dizziness crashed over her. She reached out to grasp the bedpost before everything went black.

 

23rd August 1892

Ominis' legal associate presented a striking contrast to the two Gaunt's in attendance— Portly, with a thick black moustache peppered with flecks of grey. Despite his solemn expression, a fleeting glimmer of compassion illuminated behind his tiny, round spectacles as he paused by Nova's side and conjured an ice-cold glass of water.

Nova swallowed her breathless apology, downing the glass in one determined gulp. Her eyes shifted from her stout saviour to the man intent on diverting the course of the inquiry. "Could you please repeat the question?"

"Confirm your whereabouts following the incident," the elderly wizard's voice snapped with an undercurrent of impatience.

"If I may..." the gentleman lingering on the edge of the stand chimed in with a diplomatic clearing of his throat. He nodded respectfully to the Minister and locked eyes with numerous influential court members. "While I understand your concern for Miss Fenwick's safety in the aftermath of her harrowing ordeal, let's not lose sight of the fact that she is not the one on trial today."

"I beg your pardon?" Minister Spavin sneered, his tone far from respectful. "If I'm not mistaken, you're the litigator employed specifically  by  and  for —"

"Correct, Minister, I am a private litigator," he confirmed with a nod of resolve, "Alfric Battersea."

"The Wizengamot question stands. This is relevant to the topic at hand. If the witness fled from the scene—"

"A young, frightened witness seeking shelter isn't a crime, but if we're determined to discuss unlawful behaviour, Minister..." Alfric began with a pleasant tone, theatrically unfurling a crumpled sheet of parchment. "In the immediate aftermath of the incident, this was circulating within Miss Fenwick's place of residence."

Nova's composite sketch pulled taut between Afric's hands. She had believed all traces of those criminal apprehension notices had been destroyed, but it appeared Ominis had preserved the one they uncovered in Feldcroft.

"Minister, can you decipher the text from that rather extravagant highchair of yours?"

Spavin's seat squeaked against the polished floor as he readjusted himself, a red flush creeping up his neck. "It states that Miss Fenwick is summoned for questioning."

"That's flat-out denial," Alfric persisted with a sharper edge. "It explicitly states that Nova is a wanted criminal, and the bounty offered would be astonishingly generous for an eyewitness, wouldn't it, Minister? Can you identify who issued this?"

Ominis' mother hissed something venomous into her son's ear, but he brushed it off with a wave of his hand, leaving her visibly seething. The courtroom echoed with a sharp crack as she apparated.

"I...I don't know who issued this warrant," Spavin stammered, descending into panic under the distrustful eyes of his associates. "Clearly, there was a regrettable oversight in the printing department."

"As the highest-ranking official of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, it falls upon  you  to identify and summon the responsible party. This poster stands as damning evidence of forgery and a malicious smear campaign against Miss Fenwick."

"I don't know who you delude yourself into thinking you are—"

"Furthermore," Alfric interjected, pre-emptively stifling any effort by the Minister to speak, "the obstruction of justice you're trying to pin on Miss Fenwick should be placed on the individual responsible for fabricating this false arrest warrant. If you can't identify them, the repercussions for this act will rest solely on  your  shoulders, Minister."

The Minister's attempt to argue sputtered into a strangled wheeze. Nova pressed her lips together, her shoulders shaking with the effort to stifle a laugh at Sebastian's ill-concealed snort.

"The matter at hand today scarcely concerns—" his words disintegrated into a series of disconcerted coughs, beads of sweat now glistening on his increasingly agitated forehead.

"Indeed, Minister. Our focus today revolves around determining whether Mr Sallow is accountable for the deeds of two vastly more senior wizards while unconscious." Alfric crisply folded the parchment, securing it within the recesses of his cloak pocket. "Should the court view Mr Sallow's defence unfavourably, rest assured this topic will be revisited for full oversight of  all  misdemeanours."

Spavin frantically banged his gavel on the desk, attempting to quell the increasingly uproarious crowd. "Master Gaunt, in the absence of your father, I require a word."

That singular, frenzied demand for an explanation connected the dots. It was well-known, at least among those implicated, that Ominis' father intended to spearhead this trial. In his absence, Ominis was seizing the opportunity to sow chaos, forcing the Minister into a panicked frenzy so he'd cut questions and push for the trial's immediate dismissal. It was a stroke of genius, but the remarkable  convenience  of it all raised Nova's suspicions.

"Certainly, sir," Ominis responded, gesturing with his cane to summon a third chair beside Nova. Spavin's face transformed from crimson to ghastly white at an alarming pace upon realising Ominis had 'misunderstood' his intentions and was striding towards the witness stand.

He sent goosebumps rippling across Nova's skin as he took his seat. She attempted to divert her attention by counting the tiers of seats, the pretentious velvet cloaks in the crowd —anything to keep the painful memories of the last time she saw him at bay.

 

8th February 1891

Nova's bleary eyes fluttered open to find herself entangled in a mess of blankets at the foot of the unmade bed. Stubborn strands of wet hair were plastered across her eyes and mouth, sheets clinging to her dewy skin.

"When was the last time you ate?" Ominis' voice sliced through the fog. She hauled herself upright, the room swirling as she strained to maintain her balance.

"I don't know," she muttered. A mental veil had shrouded any memory prior to her arriving back at Hogwarts; any attempts to rupture it were deflected by mounting panic. "I doubt I had dinner yesterday."

"Then it's been nearly twenty-four hours," he grumbled with what sounded like irritation but was probably more rooted in concern.

He rummaged around in his satchel, managing to unearth a squashed bar of fudge. The gooey brown substance was almost pulp. However, Nova devoured half of it appreciatively, licking the sticky residue off her fingers.

"Here," she lightly tapped the other half against his arm as he busied himself, cramming the disordered notes of his partial scheme into his bag.

"I don't need it. I'm leaving."

The chocolate sludge turned rock-hard in her throat as dread constricted it, reflected in her grip on his wrist. "Have you thought this through? You don't know what you're walking into."

"I know what I'm walking into." His reply was flat as he used his fingers to pry himself from her grip. "If I delay any longer, you'll starve in here."

She scoffed a humourless laugh. "You're being dramatic. I've gone longer without—"

"Step outside this door, you'll be seized by an auror, shipped off to a cell, and it becomes ten times harder to get you out." He clasped her shoulders firmly, his features stern. "After I leave, you need to wait at least a day. Any longer, and you'll be too weak to be left alone. I need to go now."

Nova clenched her fists into her hair, frustration manifesting in tugs at the damp curls. He was right. He usually was.

"And if you're wrong? What… What if they think you're responsible?"

Ominis' gut-wrenching scream, torn from his throat by Marvolo's crimson flash of lightning, assaulted her ears like a flashbang. She had to clamp her hand over her mouth to suppress her strangled breathing.

"What if they use the curse on you again?"

He gnawed at a loose flap of skin on his lip as he extracted something from his satchel. His silence spoke volumes; punishment was inevitable, regardless of whatever strategy or leverage he lay at his father's feet.

"We'll go to the ministry. To the department of magical, whatever the fuck it is—"

He sneered, his words weary and hushed, "You couldn't imagine the extent of the favours Minister Spavin owes my father."

He twisted at a small leather pouch, fingers working the material until it began to rip. With a decisive unclasping, he spilt the contents onto the table; a glinting gold coin spun before hitting the surface with a resonant clatter. A portkey.

"I'll be finishing my studies at home; he'll want me kept safe within the manor..." Ominis' facade of indifference shattered as he stumbled over his following words. "Until I'm ready to fulfil his expectations for more heirs."

The breath was expelled from her lungs, and all efforts to suppress tears were in vain. She blinked, allowing the streams to cascade down her face and drop from her chin.

"So…" that's it then.

Words jammed in her throat before she managed to get them all out.

Ominis' voice was strained; a fleeting pause followed a cracked syllable. He took a moment to collect himself before clearly speaking, "I understand why you're against me leaving. You might believe it's what you want, but it's not."

"Whatever I feel for you is irrelevant!" She resisted the urge to raise her voice, well aware that volume wouldn't lend sincerity to her words.

"This was unavoidable," he stated with a hint of anger underlying his words, though she detected it wasn't aimed at her. "It was only a matter of time before you found yourself in the same place as Anne and I, Sebastian—tearing myself apart, forced to witness my family wringing the life out of someone I love."

Her vocal cords knotted, and her up-and-coming rant died on her tongue.

"You love me?" The words clawed under her skin, comforting and chaotic.

He looked petrified, but something resembling acceptance graced his features as her heartbeats raced.

"Your words have been ringing in my mind, constantly repeating since you said you loved me yesterday."

"I didn't..." She couldn't muster a denial. Trying to pull any precise details from the previous night felt like grasping at air; truth be told, she didn't want to deny it.

"You said my wand knows when it's wielded by someone who loves me... Nova, my wand has backfired every spell cast by anyone who's tried to use it." He delicately traced the tips of his fingers over the contours of her knuckles. "I've never heard those words, and you said them effortlessly. You meant it."

"I did… I do."

"I was born to be a spare part. I used to think it would be the worst thing imaginable if this day ever came. But it's not because I get to keep you safe in doing so." He lifted his hands to cradle her face, dropping his forehead against hers with a gentle clash. "There's nothing I wouldn't do to keep you safe."

"Your safety matters as much as mine; you deserve safety. You're not  safe  there, Ominis," she kissed him fiercely. Her chest constricted with a hurricane of crushing emotions—profound misery, undeniable joy, panic, disbelief… "Don't go."

Tears blended as they spilt down their faces. Ominis tenderly wiped them from her cheeks with his thumbs as he deepened the kiss as if it were the last thing he'd ever get to do. Nova's trembling hands grasped at his shirt to pull him closer, their bodies weaving together as they toppled onto the bed.

 

23rd August 1892

Sebastian, Nova, and Ominis convened in a line before the Minister of Magic, who was scratching out questions he no longer felt confident enough to pose. Ominis benefited from preferential treatment, spared from harsh scrutiny, and faced gentle, open-ended inquiries instead.

"Regrettably, my visual impairment hinders my ability to provide details," Ominis responded to the question similarly to the previous eight.

Spavin's frustration heightened with each repeated response until his knuckles turned white, and his tight grip snapped his quill in half. "The court is adjourned. Wizengamot members will deliberate, and you'll be notified of the verdict. Thank you." He gathered a handful of papers before apparating from the courtroom, delivering an abrupt end to the proceedings.

The cheerful sunrays from the enchanted ceiling dappled sunspots across the faces of the bewildered officials in the stands. Confused murmurs burst through the silence before evolving into an eruption of chatter. The occasional gasp intermingled with the tactile sound of papers rustled as they were gathered, and Wizengamot rose from their seats.

It took a moment for Nova to register that it was over, done. She wanted to wrap Sebastian in a hug, but he whirled around as an Auror clapped him on the back, offering congratulations for successfully making it through.

Ominis stood unwaveringly by her side, but she couldn't muster the strength to look at him. Tossing a mumbled thank you in his direction, she strode purposefully towards the exit, transitioning into a brisk half-run as she approached the door. She could send Sebastian an owl later.

Sparse light filtered through high-slitted windows, casting glints on the polished walls. Catching distorted reflections in the tiles and sensing footsteps trailing her down the barren hallway, she gripped her wand tightly.

"Nova?"

She was too drained to be startled. She envisioned Poppy's rose garden and prepared to apparate but hesitated. Considering she was this distressed, the likelihood of losing an arm to splinching made her question if it was worth the risk. She intensified the force of her footfalls, making it evident to her unwelcome intruder that she had no intention of stopping for him.

Ominis effortlessly matched her pace until they were walking in unsettling unison. Any attempt she made to speed up or slow down, he reflected with ease.

"I would appreciate the chance to discuss the specifics of Sebastian's trial with you."

"We can communicate whatever needs to be discussed through the post," she said, internally applauding herself for articulating a coherent sentence.

"I've heard in the event of a favourable deliberation, Sebastian will be residing with you?" he asked, brushing aside her words with a blatant disregard.

Are you deaf now, too? 

"Sorry, I'm pressed for time. Can you just tell me what you want?"

"Let's avoid discussing it here. There's a nearby restaurant where my family holds confidential meetings. Would you be willing to join me there?"

Her rigid shoes pressed into her heels as she came to a sharp halt, Ominis flawlessly harmonising with her sudden stop.

Deep-rooted warnings burrowed through her mind. Timeworn words of consequences and punishments if they were to be seen together. To think, he expected her to have a meal across from him in the knowledge of his impending marriage to Alice.

Yes, his father was in St Mungo's, but there was no word of his condition being fatal. Was he just revelling in his fleeting autonomy, ready to cast her aside once Daddy reappeared on the scene? She found herself not trusting his motives anymore, adding more fractures to the heart he'd already shattered.

"I'd rather not." She replied flatly.

"It will be a brief matter."

Fury prickled under her skin as he once again dismissed her words. A parchment and quill materialised, the nib scratching out the date and time of his proposed meeting. Nova's fingers snatched the parchment from the air, the wet ink staining her hands as she irritably strode past him.

She knew she shouldn't be so harsh. He had saved her and Sebastian, and she was grateful - but confronting the memory of that morning was excruciating. A tangle of emotions twisted in her gut like a sickness and threatened to crack her composure. It was a memory buried so deeply she'd convinced herself it was a thing of the past.

 

9th February 1891

Nova groaned, burrowing her face into the tangled web of pillows and blankets. The distant chime of a clock chased away the traces of her dreamless sleep. Her giddy grin pressed into the fabric as her aching muscles clenched.

Ominis had whispered declarations of love over and over, sealing the words with kisses against her throat as he guided her into the pillows and ignited a throbbing heat between her thighs.

A stretch of time, somewhere between minutes and hours, slipped away. Touch-starved hands tangled in tufts of hair, thighs pressed against thighs, her head tilted forward until their temples touched. Her hair cascaded around them like a veil, shielding them from the rest of the world.

She had fought hard to stay awake, determined to savour every precious moment. Ominis seemed entirely free from the weight of his responsibilities. His fingers trailed gentle circles in her hair and sleepily professed his wish never to be without her in the quiet of the night.

"You don't have to be. We'll run away. Just... please, don't leave."

"Okay."

His answer was hesitant, but it provided enough solace that she allowed herself to drift to sleep in his arms.

As consciousness began to spread through her body, the absence of his warmth pierced through her like a dagger to the heart. She squeezed her eyes shut, aching for the sound of chess pieces clashing and scattering across the board. She lay in the oppressive silence for an eternity, tears streaming through tightly clenched eyelids.

She rolled over; the dwindling ember of hope was snuffed out as her fingers scraped against a hastily scrawled note.

She was alone.

Chapter 18

Tomorrow, 8 o'clock, The Brasserie Royale.

 

Nova shoved Ominis' invitation back into her pinafore pocket as heavy footfalls thundered through the chaos of wailing outpatients.

The head of the ward barged around the corner into the apothecary storeroom, the force of her entrance accompanied by a sharp scream as if Nova had just sprouted from the ground. "Oh, you're back! Why are you moping in here?"

Nova shot a pointed look at the assortment of cauldrons rattling on their supports, the dense bubbles bursting with trapped steam. "We have a family in the waiting room with blast-ended skrewt burns, and we're out of ointment."

"I see. Well, don't startle me like that; I have an icky heart." The high-ranking healer nearly dunked her subordinate face-first into a scorching cauldron as she shouldered past. "I'm going to assume your trial didn't go well?"

"It went very well, actually."

"Oh! Well, tell your face. Knowing you're not heading on a one-way trip to Azkaban, I would have expected more merriment. It must be a relief."

Nova's brow furrowed in confusion, her hand navigating past the burly woman to grab the pipettes. "That was never an option. It... it wasn't  my  murder trial. Did you think it was my murder trial?"

Sceptical eyes raked over Nova from head to toe. "It wasn't?"

"No! Why would you hire me if you thought I was on trial for murder?!"

"We're desperate, sweetie." She admitted, cramming a generous amount of dittany into her overflowing pocket. "I did find it odd, given your friendship with the Gaunt brother."

The Gaunt's had become the hotbed of St Mungo's gossip mill when Ominis' father commandeered a private room on the fourth floor. Despite her efforts to keep a low profile, it didn't take long for a meddlesome colleague to unearth Nova's connection to the high-profile murder trial.

"He's not my friend," Nova declared icily; even labelling him as an 'acquaintance' seemed overly generous at this point.

"Really? He dropped by just last week and seemed very interested in what you were up to."

Nova's grip clenched in alarm, the dropper responding with an impromptu spurt of mallowsweet oil. The viscous, crimson goo eagerly absorbed the unintended addition, tainting the entire batch.

Oblivious to Nova's escalating emergency, the healer persisted, "You should have exploited that connection when you had a chance. Maybe you wouldn't be stuck here at two in the morning if you had thrown him a smile every now and then."

"I don't see how that would matter. He wouldn't have seen it," Nova spat back. "Besides, he was never one to smile."

"Well, he was nothing but smiles with me." The older witch spun on her heels, biting her lower lip with a girlish giggle, "If I were thirty years younger, I'd be swinging from that pole like a circus monkey. His fiancé is a fortunate woman."

She left Nova alone with the curdled potion, its contents boiling over much like her simmering anger.

She could lower her head when co-workers fawned over Ominis. She could push aside the looming threat of his father on the floor above. The single catalyst for her stoic facade to crumble was any mention of the fucking fiancé.

I'm not going.

She yanked the invitation from her pocket and flung it into the flames, watching as it twisted and charred into smouldering ash.

Fuck him.

 

Of course, Ominis was ready and waiting when she arrived.

She had stopped trying to rationalise why she chose to meet with him and subject herself to this inevitable suffering. With tightly braided hair, a dress retrieved from the neglected corner of her wardrobe, and a lengthy trek into central London—there was no attributing it to a momentary lapse of judgment.

She pushed through a flock of polished haircuts crammed into three-piece suits, trading mediocre tips on the stock market.

Why am I here? Just go home, you don't have to have the last word every damn time…

A firm tap on her shoulder roused her goosebumps, accompanied by a refined voice that slithered unpleasantly into her ears.

"You're early."

Fascination collided with a growing sense of unease as she subjected Ominis to a critical inspection instead of offering a greeting. He was the same Gaunt poster boy she'd seen attend the trial, his black ensemble adorned with delicate touches of emerald. His family crest, a pompous imitation of their Hogwarts house emblem, taunted her from his signet ring.

"Shouldn't be an issue," he dismissed any need for a response, perhaps aware she had no intention of dignifying him with one. He took the lead, striding a few steps ahead toward the restaurant, and she despised herself for begrudgingly trailing behind.

 

The waitstaff piloted them through the assembly of circular tables draped in pristine white linen. Nova scrutinised the patrons in the dim light, each immersed in the traditional act of pouring wine from opulent bottles and wielding their cutlery rather than relying on magic to carve into their premium cuts of meat.

Muggles?

"Ma'am?" The waiter stood poised with her chair pulled out. Muttering an apology, she took her seat while he attended to Ominis, mentioning he would fetch his preferred wine, something undoubtedly extortionate.

They were left alone. The inevitable, tense silence slotted between them, and she eyed him curiously. The flickering candlelight of the centrepiece accentuated the razor-sharp edges of his features, underscoring the parallels between the Gaunt who broke her heart and the one that haunted her nightmares.

"There's no need to be nervous."

"I'm not," Nova replied far too quickly, the clinking of the glassware contradicting her words as her leg jiggled restlessly beneath the table. "Why are we here?"

"Well, seeing as we both hold significant roles in Sebastian's life, I thought we ought to discuss his rehabilitation—"

"No, no," she interrupted his spiel with an impatient rap of her knuckles against the table. "I mean, why are we here. Considering your tendencies, why would a muggle restaurant be where your family hold meetings?"

" Tendencies," he scoffed, clearly deriving amusement from her attitude. "What do you know of my tendencies?"

"Enough."

He arched an eyebrow as he inclined on his forearms, "Considering the nature of our conversation, do you think anyone in this room would flinch if we delved into topics such as the Ministry, Azkaban, or my alleged tendencies?"

"Muggles aren't as obtuse as you think they are. If you're a regular here, they'll draw conclusions."

"What my father does in those situations is not my concern."

His words struck a nerve. Her hands furiously wrung the starched fabric of the tablecloth.

The night their relationship shifted from begrudging allies to friends, she'd confided in him about her father. With her chest wracking from the after-effects of the cruciatus curse, she'd laid bare the story of the muggle consigned to an asylum by the Ministry out of fear he would compromise their world.

It took Ominis a moment to process his words—a fleeting flash of remorse crossing his features before the familiar Gaunt indifference took over. "On the subject of fathers, my condolences for the loss of yours. I sent flowers."

"I got lots of flowers. Yours didn't stand out."

She'd received two — Three if she were to count the synthetic cactus with a ' Property of the juvenile detention unit – Do not remove.' sticker slapped on the bottom, courtesy of Sebastian. Aside from that, there was a bouquet of handpicked wildflowers from Poppy and an ornate emerald vase overflowing with white lilies, no note.

"Speaking of fathers, I hear yours is in bad shape?"

Ominis didn't appear offended by the absence of tact – in the grand scheme of things, it might have bothered her if he had. "Have you seen him?"

"No, I've been assigned to the creature-induced injuries ward for my first year."

In what might have been a misguided attempt to appear nonchalant, he started inspecting the uniformity of his utensils with his fingertips, "When he was admitted to St Mungo's, I made certain you'd be kept far away from his ward."

Nova's eyes bore into him with abject fury as he toppled his superfluous origami napkin, releasing it with a forceful flap across his lap.

"Are you trying to tell me you've been interfering in my life?"

"I wouldn't label it as interference. Rather, I've been… keeping watch over you and Sebastian."

"So, stalking."

"You're being intentionally dramatic," he accused with a dismissive wave.

Nova weighed up the ethical implications of booting over a blind man's chair. It was a familiar impulse. Ominis always had an uncanny talent for making her blood boil; ever since that night she hurled Sebastian's accursed manuscript at his head. Why should tonight be different?

"What if I wanted to be assigned to the fourth floor?! You would have undermined my entire career path. How do you have such an inflated sense of self-importance? I  don't need you meddling –"

Her berating screeched to a halt as a wine bottle slid into her peripheral vision, wielded by an apprehensive waiter who knew damn well he was interrupting something.

"Are we ready to proceed with orders?"

The possibility of salvaging her dismal evening with alcohol was ripped out from under her feet as he poured an outrageously small quantity into their glasses.

She shifted her focus to the pretentious drivel scattered across the menu.

Are you kidding me? What the fuck is spatchcock poussin?

"I'll have whatever he's having," she sighed, allowing the leather-bound menu to slip from her hands and smack the table in a gesture of defeat.

Ominis took charge of placing their orders while Nova retrieved the wine their host had left in an ice bucket, filling her glass to a more acceptable level. She considered topping up Ominis', but he began swirling it by the stem as if conjuring a wine whirlpool served any purpose.

"If you shove your nose in there, I'm out of here."

"If you can't appreciate a fine wine, maybe you should leave anyway."

Nova involuntarily laughed at the familiar contempt before she could catch herself, prompting the corners of Ominis' lips to twitch upwards as he raised his drink to them.

"I'm glad you chose to come," he said, resisting the urge to inhale the aroma of his beverage, opting instead for a microscopic sip—a choice she found equally distressing. "I didn't expect you would."

"I didn't want to," Nova admitted, "but I have questions. Questions Sebastian is refusing to answer. So, here I am."

Ominis raised an eyebrow, emitting a low hum of intrigue as he gestured for her to elaborate.

"Are you aware of how Sebastian reacted when you sent us those false statements last year?"

"The statements that absolved my brother to pacify my father?" he remarked with a thoughtful click of his tongue. "I can't imagine he took it well."

"He was furious. He said he should've killed you too. I wasted months trying to make him see you were just trying to keep him out of Azkaban, but he didn't care – he was determined to wipe out your family or die trying."

"Well, your persuasion worked wonders. He performed remarkably well during the trial."

"I didn't  persuade  him," she clenched the stem of her glass, straining to contain her irritation at his attempt to cut off the conversation. "I visit one day, and he's acting like it's all his idea – ready to sweep Anne's murder under the rug and absolve the two men responsible. When I left, I checked the visitor log and guess whose name I found?"

Tracing the contours of his jawline with his fingers, Nova noticed a faint trembling in them as he spoke, "We both know it wasn't the most thought-out plan. I didn't have much time to prepare, as you might recall. The short window we had, well, we got a bit sidetracked."

The blood in her cheeks ignited as he dredged up the subject of their night together. She assumed the topic would be off-limits unless he was intentionally trying to provoke a reaction? It wouldn't be a far cry from the strategy he'd used on Minister Spavin – throw her off-kilter to sabotage the line of questioning.

"Ominis Gaunt," she spat the words like they burnt her tongue. " That  was the name in the guest book. How did you convince him?"

"I said no more than you."

"Bullshit."

"Sebastian and I have been friends for years. He trusts me."

"He doesn't love you more than he loved Anne. After that day, he changed. Improved. He started putting real effort into his rehabilitation. I want to know how you made that happen."

"I'm persuasive," he stated flatly, dragging out his words as he sipped at his wine. "I only paid a visit because the court date was postponed. He was almost eighteen, and I was convincing the warden to halt his transfer to an adult detention centre."

"And then your father pushed back the court date again. He was using it against you, wasn't he? Keeping Sebastian on tenterhooks to keep you in check?"

"You're throwing around a lot of baseless accusations."

"And as if all that wasn't suspicious enough, your father conveniently falls ill before the trial, presenting you with the perfect opportunity to spearhead the entire proceedings."

"We hold my father in our thoughts." His words felt brittle as if it were a sentiment he was growing tired of repeating. "We're hopeful for a swift recovery."

Nova dropped her face into her palms, fingernails dragging streaks of red across her temples. "Are you telling me it's a coincidence?"

"I'm telling you, the timing is regrettable."

The dream of dispelling the darkness that Sebastian had confined her in withered away.

"I'm sorry," Ominis' words were hollow and useless, an imitation of what she'd wanted to hear, "I hope you understand that any information I've withheld is for your protection."

"Just tell me why you dragged me here so I can get the hell out."

Punctual as ever, their waiter speared through the simmering hostility with two steaming plates of the most mouth-watering food she'd ever seen. Despite the pompous menu tag of  Châteaubriand Pommes Allumettes, it was clearly steak and chips. Nova's mood flipped on a dime, praying Ominis would drag out his point so she could relish every mouthful.

"Where are you residing at the moment?" he asked, polishing the gleaming edge of his steak knife with the napkin draped across his lap.

Unburdened by formalities, Nova closed her eyes in sheer bliss as she bit the crispiest chip in half. "You sent me flowers. You know where I live."

Ominis scraped his fork across the plate, pinpointing and cutting a piece of steak. He prolonged his chews, granting himself time to meticulously select his words. "I assume you'll be purposefully misconstruing everything I say..." he eventually began.

Nova squared her shoulders, poised to interpret whatever he was about to say in the most unfavourable way possible.

"When Sebastian's trial is dismissed and the charges dropped, I hear he'll be moving in with you," he said, tapping the tip of his fork against his plate. "It's a rather...  modest home."

She didn't need to fake her outrage; it unfolded naturally.

"Go fuck yourself, why does the size of my house concern you in the slightest?"

"You're an apprentice healer, correct? I recently had a conversation with your superior regarding your salary; it will be challenging to support both of you."

She slammed her cutlery into the porcelain dish, the resulting clatter earning disdainful tuts from the sophisticated patrons neighbouring them.

"Not that it's any of your business, but I'm in the process of liquidating my father's assets. We were well-off before he died. I'll have more than enough to support both of us until Sebastian gets back on his feet."

"How long do you think it'll take? Everyone knows his name. Finding employment will be a challenge."

"You settled his court case but can't pay off a shopkeeper to hire him?"

"He's not your burden to bear," Ominis said, gently laying down his cutlery beside his platter so he could address her earnestly. "What happened to him isn't your fault. It's mine, and I want to shoulder my share of the responsibility."

He retrieved a document from his jacket pocket and slid it across the table. The flickering candlelight accentuated the embossed Gringotts stamp. A significant sum was inscribed beneath in Ominis' distinctive, elegant handwriting.

Panic flared up Nova's spine, "No... I don't want this."

"It's yours—Compensation for all you've endured. I want you to use it to build a life for yourself and Sebastian."

The pleading look in his pallid eyes plucked at her heartstrings, trigging an instinctive rise in her guard against the swelling tide of emotions.

"Ominis, I appreciate everything you've done, but housing Sebastian isn't about guilt or obligation. We've both lost our families, and I just want to keep him close. I won't stand in the way of his friendship with you, but I don't want any ties to the Gaunt's and that includes accepting this."

His hand covered hers as she tried to push the check back across the table. There it was again—the tremor in his fingers shuddering against her own. A vile recognition crawled under her skin. His father had been hospitalised weeks ago. How long and frequently must he have been subjected to the cruciatus curse to still be plagued by its after-effects?

"There will be no repercussions from you accepting this," he assured her. "I made my choice, and not a day goes by where I don't think what the alternative could have been. But you need to understand I am the Gaunt's now, and I'll wield that name to ensure no harm ever comes to you."

"Ominis," she tried to withdraw her hand from under his, but he held on firmly.

"I'm sorry I left, but everything I wrote in that note was true. If you'd have asked—"

"Ominis," she snapped, the sob caught in her throat breaking through, "don't."

"How are you both finding your meal?"

Nova wrenched her hand away from Ominis', her fingers digging into the bridge of her nose at the untimely intrusion.

Her eyes descended to the chaotic scene on her plate—a disconcerting tableau of mangled steak, the blood oozing across it like a morbid river. Her gaze tracked the crimson trail, guiding her eyes to Marvolo's lower limbs obliterated beneath the weight of fallen rocks, his dying eyes locking onto hers as he weakly raised his wand.

AVADA KADAVRA.

Their dishes rattled violently as she jumped at Sebastian's voice, screaming in her mind. The incantation that had spared her life but condemned his own.

"I think we're done here, thank you."

Ominis settled the bill before she could gather enough composure to object, not that she'd have been able to cover the cost of her portion.

Leaving the restaurant, conflicting feelings churned within her mind.

I am the Gaunt's

It was difficult to forget. He was draped in opulent reminders of his affiliation with the family culpable for Anne's murder and on the verge of orchestrating the deaths of both her and Sebastian. His efforts to save her didn't reshape his identity or alter the person he sat beside as they witnessed the trial unfold.

"Will you allow me to escort you home?"

She considered apparating, but with Muggles around and her current state of mind, it seemed like a recipe for being torn apart, with giblets scattering across her home, the catacombs, the Room of Requirement... "Yes, please."

He hesitated before gesturing toward the horse-drawn carriage patiently waiting for him. "Any contact we have from today onward will be entirely on your terms, but I want you to understand that my efforts to reintegrate into your life stem from a genuine desire to remain a part of it."

"You've made your bed," she told him stiffly, "lie in it."

 

Ominis exchanged pleasantries with his driver and provided him with Nova's home address. Anticipating him taking the opposite seat, she begrudgingly accepted his choice to settle in beside her. Secretly relieved that avoiding the sight of his face was one less battle in her fight to maintain self-control.

"As I said earlier, there's no need to be nervous."

"I'm not."

Ominis' steady palm pushed down on her knee, halting the rhythmic jiggling that betrayed her unease. His skin was a searing hot brand against hers, even through the fabric of her dress. She whipped towards him, poised to unleash a snippy remark, but her heart skipped a beat when he turned to face her too.

The carriage rattled across the cobbled roads, and she couldn't establish whether he was tightening his grip or if it was the vibrations of the journey. All she was certain of was the tension rippling between them was far more oppressive than it had been a heartbeat ago.

Nova slipped her fingers under the knot of his tie and dragged him to her lips before she could stop herself.

The painful reminder that he was a good kisser added insult to the injury of her unsalvageable mistake. She wanted splintered words and jerky movements to crack through his composed demeanour, but he kissed back like pure sin—slow and measured—the bitter tang of wine clinging to her tongue as he swiped his against it.

In a failed attempt to shove his face away, her traitorous hand stopped short of applying any meaningful pressure, instead settling against the warmth of his cheek.

"Look at you," he muttered as he gripped her jaw, tilting her face back with a victorious grin. "All bark and no bite."

Notes:

It might go without saying but when I release the next chapter, I'll be updating the fic's rating from mature to explicit.
If you're solely invested in the plot, I'd suggest jumping ahead to chapter 20, but if you're up for sinning in the back of a horse-drawn carriage, I gotchu.

Your comments continue to bring me an indescribable amount of serotonin—thank you ❤

Chapter 19

Notes:

Just a heads-up that this chapter is mostly filth, so if that's not your cup of tea, I'll catch you in chapter 20 :)

If it is your cup of tea, I'm sorry it took so long.

The carriage's tremors on the cobblestone road shot up Ominis' arm and reverberated through to the grip he held on Nova's jaw. His emotions were barricaded behind a stony expression but his free hand hunted for her wrist, as though trying to physically prevent her from apparating away from him.

"You almost had me believing you feel nothing but animosity towards me."

"I feel nothing for you," she bit out. The more venom, the better the chance it had of purging the lingering taste of him on her lips. She was still clutching the knot of his tie with such force that the texture embedded itself into her skin. "I don't know who you are anymore."

"Mm-hmm," He disregarded her words with a hum, tilting her chin up before audaciously crashing his mouth back into hers. It was more of a fight than a kiss, a spiteful exchange that set her blood boiling. Her nails dug harshly into the back of his neck, and he retaliated by thrusting a fist into her hair, using the leverage to pull her onto his lap.

The power struggle was stirring a perverse pleasure, and she despised that being on the losing side was only turning her on more. Her knees anchored on either side of his hips as her dress shamelessly gathered up around her thighs, and she drove her tongue into him like it was a knife.

"You know me," he insisted before muttering an incantation against her lips, charming the thin curtains to drape themselves across the windows.

"I did," she spat, swatting his hand away from her face. "And then you disappeared. Not a single letter, not a visit…"

"You know I wasn't able to visit you."

"You found a way to visit Sebastian."

"Only once." Distant echoes of cruciatus pulsed in his fingertips as they wandered down to her throat, forcing her to look at him. All his movements were deliberate and achingly controlled. "Don't worry, I was duly punished for it."

His mouth grazed over hers, infuriatingly soft and tempting—and when she tried to deepen it, he intentionally withdrew.

His jaw was practically screaming to be met with the force of a clenched fist.

The fact a denied kiss could get her so needy, the fact he knew it would make her flutter apart for him like a house of cards made her want to swan-dive out of the carriage door.

I need to get out of here.

Rallying enough focus for apparition proved challenging as a warm palm caressed her thigh. Part of her was seriously scandalised that he was skimming the hem of her dress, but a significantly more dominant part was dying to know how far he was willing to take this.

Retracting her hands, she roughly dragged her nails across the racing pulse on his neck and sensed a distinct twitch between her thighs. Chalking it up to a bump in the road, she gritted her teeth against the temptation to grind down and find out.

"You've gone unusually quiet," he observed, his grip firm on her waist. She suppressed the touch-starved relief of being held—a deceptive illusion of I've got you. You're mine.

It was difficult to recall if she'd ever been this aroused.

Their first encounter was more about satisfying a longing for comfort than indulging in lust.

Her second time was a foggy, alcohol-fuelled tumble with her yule ball date as an act of retaliation after learning the news.

The betrothal announcement was just a scrap tucked away in the socialite section of the Daily Prophet, easily missed. Still, someone wanted her to know—Ominis wouldn't have been the one to mail it to her, of course. Nova deduced it was the fiancée who blamed the Slytherin trio for the demise of the Gaunt brother she truly wanted.

A searing pain lodged itself between her lungs at the memory.

"You're engaged," she chewed out, forcefully shoving his hands off her skin.

"You want to discuss that now?"

"You're engaged, and once you're done with me, you'll be gone. You won't put me through that again."

The timber seat groaned beneath his weight as he reclined in it, and after a thoughtful pause, he carefully spoke. "Do you believe I possess the freedom to allow Sebastian to walk free but not call off my own betrothal?"

An onslaught of questions thundered into her mind, but his tempered features melted away her defences. He was cradling the back of her skull, and the relief was bleeding into her arousal.

It didn't make sense.

He had a debilitating fear of crossing his father's boundaries, but here he was, seducing a half-blood in the back of his family's carriage, orchestrating Sebastian's trial, calling off his engagement... Either he had outgrown the fear of his father's wrath or…

His father isn't coming back.

Ominis' knows he isn't coming back.

"What have you done to your fath…"

Ominis kissed the words out of her mouth with a lewd groan that she swallowed down, and she gave into the urge to grind against him; he was thick and stiff between her thighs, and when he rolled his hips up to meet hers, it sent a wave of sparks racing across her skin.

The air inside this wretched mode of transport was stifling, the coarse fabric of the seat was imprinting into her knees, and her neck ached from bending down to avoid hitting her head on the roof.

"Can we apparate now?"

"We?" Ominis repeated before capturing her lips to pre-emptively silence any potential retort. "Do you want to join me?"

She eyed him warily, "Where?"

He raised his hand in a gesture of invitation.

Without thinking, she placed her palm against his, and the carriage walls exploded outwards.

Nova staggered into a vast chamber, shoes clacking against the polished hardwood floor. The room was cold and bleak. A canopied bed inhabited the centre, and a sturdy wardrobe stood against the distant wall. The expansive windows towered up to the intricately carved ceiling, but the view was obscured by the iridescent haze of protective wards.

Gaunt Manor.

Panic gripped her throat, burning her oesophagus all the way to her chest. ,.

"What have you... why..."

"This is the safest place you could be," Ominis's hand landed on her shoulder, and she instinctively recoiled away from it. "No one can breach these wards unless I allow it."

"What if someone hears me?"

"No one will hear you," he assured her. "The house is empty. Ever since my father's hospitalisation, my mother has been hiding at the Flint's."

"Hiding?"

"Visiting. Turning to them for comfort—apparently, mine wasn't enough."

His attempt to deflect the mistake fell on deaf ears, the unintentional confession wedging uncomfortably between them.

Hiding?

Why is his mother afraid of him?

Should I be afraid?

Nova pressed her back against the opulent mahogany walls as the heir of Slytherin towered over her.

The realisation of her isolation hit hard. No one could hear them. No prying eyes would be sneaking a glimpse through the windows. She readied to apparate, only to feel her magic sparking under her skin as the anti-apparition wards held her prisoner. The fortress around them was impenetrable.

She was fascinated by it—by the danger, by Ominis, and by whatever he had done to fight his way back to her. Staring into his eyes, they looked older, as though a decade had slipped by since she last studied them.

Her sigh of surrender poured into him as he claimed her lips, and the lustful twitch in her stomach flickered back to life. He clutched her hips possessively as he indulged in her, his mouth trailing from her lips to her throat, respectable kisses intensifying to lustful bites that stained the column of her neck. His hands glided across her shoulders, stumbling over the sleeves of her dress, unfastening them and pushing the fabric away until it pooled at her feet.

"If you want me to stop, tell me." His words dripped with forced sweetness but were devoid of any genuine kindness. A tactic to coerce her into confessing she wanted him.

"You..." Any insult she had poised on her tongue dissolved as he sank his teeth into her pulse, crafting a bruise into her skin. Her attention redirected to feverishly scrabbling at the fastenings of his shirt.

Ominis scoffed, the derisive sound scattering like poison across her skin, "I don't want you to stop. Notice how easy it is to admit it?"

"Fuck you."

The palms exploring their way down her ribcage stilled and reversed their course, coiling into the strands at the nape of her neck so tightly she could barely twitch her head, "That's what you want me to do to you, isn't it?"

Nova could feel him swelling against her pelvis as he pinned her against the wall. She arched her hips as a way of replying, meeting his throbbing arousal with a defiant grind. The self-loathing she felt for surrendering to him so quickly was, to some degree, alleviated by the location of their transgressions. His family had haunted her nightmares for months. Passive-aggressive sex with their surviving son in their ancestral home felt like fitting revenge.

"Then behave yourself. Any more attitude and I won't think twice about calling your bluff and leaving you here."

His warning trickled down her spine and awakened a smouldering heat behind her navel. She suspected it was an empty threat but had no desire to test her luck.

"I'll be nice," she said reluctantly, swallowing down every retort she'd rather be spitting at him.

He loosened his hold on her hair. "Prove it."

With an almost insultingly sweet kiss, she began to steer them towards the bed. Surmising her intended destination, he dug his fingers into the flesh of her backside and lifted her off the ground. Wrapping her legs around his waist, she delved her fingers into the blonde silk of his hair, dragging her nails down his scalp and the sound he made—she wanted to pull it from him over and over again.

With an involuntary yelp, their connection was severed, and he let her fall back onto the crisp linen of the bed.

"Get on your knees."

She obliged, clutching his thighs for support while he loomed over the foot of the bed.

Banishing the rebellious curls that had fought their way out of her braids, Ominis began to chart the contours of her face. His fingertips perused every peak and trough, lingering on an unfamiliar scar marring her upper lip—the triumphant mark of a won bet. Her pulse quickened to meet his palm as it hovered on the precipice of her neck.

She wondered how she felt to him and why her heartbeat felt like it might burst through her chest when the edges of his mouth twitched into a smile.

An unsettling and unfamiliar sense of intimacy coiled in her gut, and she swept her tongue across the pad of his thumb to steer them back on course. Taking the hint, Ominis slipped the digit between her parted lips and began unhooking the buttons of his trousers.

"Open that pretty mouth, darling."

Her jaw went slack around his fingers, and his rigid length sprang out as the last of the buttons conceded. His lashes fluttered when she licked a stripe up the sensitive flesh, and to her satisfaction, they flickered closed entirely when she met him with a swirl of her tongue.

Determined not to miss a second of his wavering control, she gazed up at him as his imposing length glided across her tongue, trying to gauge how long he'd permit it before pinning her to the mattress to regain the upper hand.

Fingers tightened in her hair as he quickened his pace, rolling his hips into her throat. She welcomed it with eager, greedy moans, the sounds mingling with his own throaty pleasure as she continued to descend until her nose brushed against the fine hairs on his stomach.

"You take me so well," he rasped, repeatedly striking the back of her throat. "Being so good for me—I knew you had it in you."

Out of spite, she held him in place and released a sultry moan, strategically ensuring it reverberated in all the right places. Ominis withdrew, blinking rapidly.

Nova sank into the absurd mountain of decorative pillows, wiping her palm against her wet chin and using it to provocatively tease along his swollen shaft. "Can't handle it?"

"What did I say about attitude?"

Her lips tightened into a thin line as she scrutinised him—the pale skin of his erection standing in stark contrast against his pressed black trousers. His shirt was ruffled, with frayed threads marking where the top two buttons had been torn off. His cheeks were flushed, his eyes dark with arousal.

"You're wearing too many clothes."

"So, take them off," he instructed, pulling her across the sheets by her thighs.

She shifted the material up his torso and tossed it to the side. He was a beautiful shade of moonlight. Scattered stars in the form of beauty marks embellished his skin. Her fingers began to dance across them but were interrupted when he gently drove her into the pillows, his kisses reverent as they grazed along the curve of each of her ribs.

Elaborately carved bedposts emerged into her view as she tipped her head back, the flickering glow of sconces hovering at the edge of her vision.

He hissed in feigned disapproval as a fingertip teased along the edge of her saturated underwear. "Did you squeeze these thighs together while slashing at me with those sharp words?"

A deflective rebuff hovered on the tip of her tongue, but reluctant to risk him stopping, she swallowed her pride.

"Yes."

The ruined material found a home somewhere at the foot of the bed while Ominis pressed his lips on the inside of her knee, his hands kneading and contorting around the curve of her flesh. Every coherent thought slipped away as he ascended higher. A displeased moan was poorly stifled when he paused his journey to suck a bruise into her thigh.

"Please, don't stop."

"Please?" he repeated, a playful lick granting her a sliver of relief from this delectable torture. "So well-mannered."

The air was knocked from her lungs as he began to devour her.

Pink marks bloomed underneath his fingers as he grasped at her plump flesh, pulling her tight against his eager mouth. He was intuitive, lining up his movements with the rhythm of her breath catching. Altering his pace until she was writhing underneath his splayed hands. He tangled their fingers, noting every clench of hers as if finely tuning himself to her. It was merciless and precise, sending thick waves of pleasure streaking through her body.

"You taste incredible," he muttered, twisting his mouth away for a few torturous seconds. "You're going to feel like heaven, aren't you?"

Anticipation dripped from her lips in the form of a deprived whine.

"Be a good girl and tell me what you want," he hummed as his tongue curled against her receptive bud. "Tell me so I can give it to you."

Her heart felt like it was going to crawl out of her ribs; she'd never been called a good girl before, and now it was all she wanted to hear. The shift from hurling verbal daggers at him to hungering for his praise was a bitter pill to swallow.

Nova cupped his jaw, drawing him to her lips, and somehow, it felt more intimate than being thoroughly pulled apart by his mouth. The kiss wasn't fierce like the others—like they were trying to wage a war with their tongue, it felt genuine.

Fuck it.

"I need to have you now."

Ominis muttered a satisfied string of praise, but she could tell he hadn't expected it. True to his word, he lowered his forehead against hers, aligning himself to the entrance to her warmth.

She could suffocate in the depths of his cloudy blue eyes if they kept flickering down at her with such adoration. Witnessing such tenderness after seeing the other side of him—commanding, capable, reducing the Minister himself to his knees—she wondered if anyone else had the privilege.

"If you want me to stop, just tell me, and I will," he promised, scattering kisses across her collarbone.

Something had shifted between them, and the sweet sting of him pushing inside her drew her attention before she could decide if she preferred it. His velvety hiss as she adjusted to him shuddered down her spine. He was moving in tediously slow increments, and when she attempted to grab his hip, he intertwined their fingers, pinning her firmly to the bed.

 "Let me take my time with you."

He touched her body like he was praying—slow worship like she held power to free him from whatever burdens he needed to release. If she could perform such a miracle, she'd do it for him in a heartbeat.

She drove her heels into the mattress to push up against him, but he grabbed the back of her knees and held her in place, spreading her apart under him. There was nothing she could do but take it as he struck the deepest parts of her with each perfect drag of his cock.

"Harder, fuck."

Eighteen months of his absence intensified his presence. Each touch felt like flames licking her skin, each kiss felt like drowning, and each thrust was driving her closer to the edge. Cautiously, his palm found her throat, applying a delicate pressure to her windpipe.

"Oh—fuck—just like that."

"I want you to be loud for me," he commanded. She sank her nails into his shoulder blades to pull him close, and he buried himself to the hilt inside her, circling his hips to initiate a delicious friction against her bundle of nerves. "I want to hear how good I make you feel."

He cast away the final remnants of fabric veiling her body, his mouth avidly exploring her breasts, kissing and sucking until the point where their thighs were colliding became increasingly soaked. She was vaguely aware of moaning his name over and over as if he had fucked every other word out of her. The reward manifested in the form of a harder thrust with each repetition.

"Such a good girl, doing so well," he purred into her ear. "I can feel you tightening. Will you come for me?"

"Keep calling me a good girl, and I might."

His rhythm faltered at her demand. Whether or not he indulged the request remained uncertain as the phrase that involuntarily slithered out of his mouth and ignited her senses was a shrill symphony of high-pitched hissing.

"Oh, what the fuck—"

Stars streaked across the black canvas of her closed eyes as she clenched around his cock, mumbling a cracked profanity into his mouth. She drowned in the weightless waves crashing over her while he kept hissing garbled strings of parseltongue through every throb of pleasure. As the dark haze clouding her vision began to lift, Ominis was nestled in the crook of her neck, his breath heavy as he poured himself deep inside her with a broken groan. His fingertips gripped her throat too tightly, but she welcomed it—Five small souvenirs of their misdeeds would be gladly taken.

They eased back into the pillows, grabbing forgotten covers to shield them from the chill. The inevitable awkward silence sneaked up on them, bringing unavoidable questions and the harsh light of reality.

Ominis' fingers gently combed through her hair for a few moments before he finally spoke, "Are you alright? Can I get you anything?"

She gave him a vague hum of dissent as she nestled against his body. The warmth of his chest beneath her cheek and the gentle rise and fall of his breathing threatened to lull her to sleep, but the discomfort of the environment was clawing back under her skin with a vengeance.

She trusted Ominis wouldn't have brought her here if he wasn't convinced she was safe, but it felt like cruel déjà vu. They'd been here before. His arms around her with promises of protection from the Gaunt's, and come morning, she had woken up alone.

Her heart plummeted into the pit of her stomach.

"I should go," she declared, peeling herself away from his embrace. The abrupt loss of heat was stoking her rising urge to cry. Her bare feet slapped against the frigid floor as she hastily gathered her belongings.

"Are you alright?"

"I'm fine... I just can't stand this place. I… I don't want to fall asleep here."

Ominis pulled himself up to perch on the edge of the bed. The once impenetrable mask of apathy had crumbled entirely away, leaving him alone with an expression of genuine confusion and fear.

"Do... you need anything?" Nova asked awkwardly, fidgeting with the clothes bundled in her arms.

"Can I come with you?" he asked quietly, "I can't stand being here either."

The thought of leaving him in such a vulnerable state was excruciating. It dawned on her why he chose to slip away while she slept when the roles were reversed.

Combing back the sweat-soaked strands clinging to his brow, she instructed him to drop the wards.

He did, and they apparated.

Chapter 20

Nova felt Ominis' voice brush against the edge of her consciousness.

She grumbled a passive hum and burrowed deeper into the blanket's warmth. After tirelessly juggling night shifts to support the understaffed hospital, she seemed doomed to face tonight's on tattered scraps of sleep—courtesy of her impromptu guest.

She reluctantly cracked open a weary eye. An amber glow had begun filtering through the curtains. Inhabitants of the bird nest outside the window stirred awake, their shadowy silhouettes dancing across the ruffled hair obscuring Ominis' face.

"The sun is rising," Nova informed him, her words smothered by a groan as she forced life into her exhausted limbs. "Don't you ever sleep? What's wrong now?"

"This scar," Ominis repeated, trailing the pad of his thumb across a blemish on her lips. "You didn't have it last I saw you."

"Seventh year. Tavern. End of N.E.W.T.S," Nova flung an arm over her eyes, each word requiring her full effort to articulate. "I bet Imelda couldn't fly us back to the castle blindfolded. I won."

Ominis' ensuing murmur lacked any sympathy. He continued to trace each uncharted detail of her features until his fingertips reunited with a familiar groove, snaking from ear to eyebrow.

"You still have it?"

Despite her efforts to purge all memories of that winter, even the proficiency of St. Mungo's couldn't erase the souvenir carved into her skin.

"Mm-hmm. The acromantula thought I needed a permanent reminder of the catacombs."

"The night you got that scar was the night I kissed you for the first time."

"I should have known it was a bad omen."

Her laughter bubbled into a squeal as his fingers dug into her ribs. "You have no right to throw a tantrum; you ran away afterwards", she managed to gasp out, holding him at arm's length. "Your signature move."

"I returned, did I not?" Ominis brushed aside her attempts to keep him at bay and drew her up to straddle his hips. "I consistently do so. Perhaps that's my signature move."

"Mm, getting you to open up was more of a challenge back then, though." She shivered as he swept the blanket off her shoulders, allowing it to pool around her thighs while his exploration persisted over the rest of her body. "How the tables have turned."

"Are you suggesting that finding my way into your bed was a challenge?"

"Excuse me?" She snatched the stuffed badger wedged behind her pillow and swung it at his smug grin. "What exactly are you implying?"

She couldn't deny that his painfully accurate comment irked her far less than it would have a day prior. Their sleepless night had devolved from sharp words into soft apologies, and kisses that had stopped being battles. 

"I'm implying your feelings for me never faltered, just as mine remained constant for you."

"Stop trying to romanticise calling me a whore," she grumbled. Her feigned outrage contrasted with the kiss she planted on a lone beauty mark on the centre of his throat. "It might have been a challenge had you not cornered me in your bedroom."

"I would've dissolved those wards in a heartbeat had you asked," he said, tilting her chin to claim her lips in a kiss that was agonisingly slow and sinful. "You know that, but it didn't even cross your mind, did it?"

She opened her mouth to feign an objection, and her toes curled when he took the opportunity to swipe his tongue against hers.

"Admit it, darling. It drove you wild."

She cursed inwardly as the affectionate name trickled down her spine and kindled a simmering heat between her thighs. A raucous crash froze her in place before she could act on any impulses.

Nova scowled up at the window in search of the disruption, and a tawny owl gawked back at her. The morning breeze whipped at the parchment clasped in its beak as it cocked its head to the side with a hoot, amused by the interruption it had caused.

"Pervert," Nova hissed as she shimmied open the stiff window. The bird relinquished the letter into her hand before taking flight and weaving back through the cobbled structures of the Hamlet.

"Is it important?" Ominis asked, his palm sliding up the length of her thigh.

She dug a nail under the distinctive red 'M' etched into the wax seal. "It's from the Ministry."

His hand hesitated on the cusp of delving into scandalous territory. "Sebastian?"

 

Dear witness,

You are hereby notified that the Wizengamot has reached a verdict for Case C-1892-27861. This will be read to the accused at 4 o'clock this afternoon, 25th August.

If you wish to attend the reading, kindly arrive no later than quarter to the hour.

Sincerely,

The Department of Magical Law Enforcement.

 

She read the announcement out loud before handing it over to Ominis. He rummaged around on the floorboards to track down his cane and unsheathed his wand from its sleek black casing. Accepting she had soaked up every drop of sleep she was likely to get, Nova dragged her body down the stairs to brew tea while Ominis scrutinised the letter.

Although it was theoretically a  house , Nova's residence stretched the definition of the term. The kitchen and living space were squeezed together, and a lofty bedroom teetered precariously above.

Just a two-apparition and floo connection to St Mungo's and the same in the opposite direction to Poppy's cottage by the coast—it was perfect for her. Still, she couldn't deny Ominis had a point when she said it would be a stretch to accommodate Sebastian too.

"Will you be able to attend before your shift this evening?"

Nova admired the sight of Ominis descending the ramshackle staircase. His guiding hand trailed the bannister while the other gripped a blanket perilously low around his waist, revealing far more than it concealed.

"It'll be tight, but I should make it if I leave right after," she said, returning her attention to the screaming kettle. "Are you going? I assume you're already aware of the verdict."

He didn't reply immediately; instead, he reached out to locate the sagging crimson couch and flopped onto it with a sigh.

"It wasn't easy convincing the minister to conclude the trial without my father's influence," he finally confessed, abandoning any pretence of naivety. "I intend to relish in the rewards. Besides, I'm eager to hear you describe Sebastian's face when he sees us together."

"The last time he saw us together, he threw me down a hallway."

"He's not the Sebastian he was back then."

"No. He's not..." Nova nibbled at the loose skin on her lip, reluctant to re-raise the topic of Sebastian out of fear it might sour their morning. Luckily, Ominis' words ricocheted in her mind and shot her thoughts down a different path.

"Wait, together? Is that safe? Isn't your mother going to be there?"

By Ominis' account, his mother was nothing more than a vindictive drunk, hardly as formidable as his father. She would relay the scandal back to him though, and Nova wasn't convinced the head of Gaunt House wouldn't pull off a miraculous recovery.

"I have my doubts. I wasn't the sole target practice of Marvolo's cruciatus," Ominis confessed. "She's not grieving, but she's shaken. If she does decide to join us, it will likely be for appearances or to contest me on the inheritance."

"There's already talk of inheritance?" Nova prodded one of his sprawled limbs with her knee, balancing a steaming mug in each hand.

The wizard hauled himself upright, tossing the flattened cushions onto the rug so she could cosy up to him instead. "When my father fell ill, she wanted to ensure everything would be rightfully hers if his condition deteriorated, but he's leaving all his possessions to his eldest son. After my brother's passing, that became me."

"Is that why she's hiding from you?" Nova asked, opting not to place her drink on the side table—more to have something to squeeze than to drink as her nerves began to spiral. Ominis had ascended from a Gaunt pariah to a man primed to inherit obscene wealth and influence. It was sure to paint a target on his back.

"It's not worth delving into. Considering my father is still alive, encountering her seems unlikely."

 

On the surface, Ominis appeared to genuinely believe his own words. Yet, as they strode down stark, desolate halls of the ministry, his slender fingers tapping against the serpentine head of his cane betrayed him. He was nervous.

Nova diverted her attention from the unsettling rhythm by watching their intertwined reflections morph and contort in the glossy black tiles lining the passage.

Any sense of calm was torn out from under their feet as they rounded the corner to the Department of Magical Law Enforcement.

"Ominis," Nova whispered his name, but the skeletal woman at the far end of the corridor whipped around at the sound of it. "She's here."

Ominis nodded with cold detachment, "Alone?"

Her eyes narrowed as she dissected the two individuals flanking the Gaunt. It hadn't been long since she'd laid eyes on her former tormentor, but it had been a while since she was permitted to be this close.

"No, she's with the Flints—Alice and her mother, I assume."

"Alright, go straight into the courtroom and take a seat behind the Minister's podium. I'll join you."

Nova only half-listened to his futile request, her muscles clenching at visceral memories as Alice brandished her wand.

"I swear to Merlin, if today doesn't play out as it should," she spat at Ominis, "over my dead body, will that filth walk free after what he did to my Marvolo."

Her anger hadn't waned.

The charges may have been dropped when Nova resurfaced from the room of requirement two winters back, but Alice's grief had driven her to carry out her own retribution—Immobilising Nova's body and tearing through it with cruciatus in broad daylight.

Panicked spectators had intervened before irreversible damage was inflicted, resulting in Professor Black giving her nothing more than a slap on the wrists before tossing her back into class. It wasn't until allegations questioning his duty of care emerged that he reluctantly approved a magically enforced restraining order for the remainder of their schooling.

"If you're referring to Sebastian, you'll have to take it up with the Minister," Ominis informed her calmly, guiding Nova forward with a firm hand against her back. "He administers the verdicts."

Nova hated herself for flinching when a wand swiped into their path.

"I mean it, you won't get away with this."

"Alice, you were only ever his pawn, a means to keep tabs on me. My brother's death and my termination of our arrangement should serve as your chance to seek better companionship."

"You and he aren't even close to comparable. It should have been you lying dead in that cave."

Nova's words were already midway out her mouth when she realised she regretted them, but pride prevented her from halting their progression. "That wretch might still have a pulse, had you not been such a notorious rat."

Her remorse intensified as Alice lunged forward with her bare hands, a sight infinitely more terrifying than the cruciatus curse.

“Petrificus totalus.”

Alice's body stiffened, then teetered back into the arms of the portly woman concealed behind her slender frame. Despite the counter spell being easily achievable, Alice's mother made no attempt to administer it. "How dare you! First, you cast your own mother out into the cold, and now you assault my innocent little girl!"

"I don't appreciate this ambush," Ominis fought to keep his tone even, though his frustration caused the cane clutched in his hand to crackle with restrained magic. "I've made it clear my mother is welcome in her home. Furthermore, I've proposed to split the estate in the event of father's passing, which is a very generous offer..."

"It's not yours to offer," the grandiose witch spat venomously at her son. "I won't allow you to besmirch our name by parading around my house with your filthy mudblood—"

Terror flashed across her face as Ominis' expression hardened, his knuckles tightening until they turned bone-white around his cane.

"You will address Nova by her name. You will stand with us in the courtroom, or my offer is revoked, and I will demand you be escorted out."

Her mouth hung open, torn between the impulse to argue and the urge to flee.

She apparated, followed closely by Alice's mother, still cradling her rigid daughter.

Nova's eyes roamed over Ominis as he ran a hand through his hair with a heavy exhale.

"I've got this sudden urge to drag you into a broom cupboard."

His stern expression tempered as he took her hand, and they entered the courtroom together. "If you send word when your shift ends, I'll meet you at the hospital and escort you straight to bed. How does that sound?"

"Ideal."

 

As it turned out, the Minister had more pressing matters than dedicating ten minutes of his day to read a verdict. Without their superior at the helm, the Wizengamot also opted to forego the reading. Only Nova, Ominis, and a scattering of officials were present.

Sebastian was notably more casual than his previous court appearance, clad in a knitted jumper, his unruly locks of hair defying gravity. Nova couldn't fulfil Ominis' request and describe his expression—The veil of tears clouding her vision obscured any discernible features, but she was relatively sure he was smiling up at them.

"Attendees of the courtroom," the appointee said monotonously, displaying apparent disinterest in the proceedings. "We gather here to deliver the verdict on… Sebastian Sallow? Standing accused of the murders of Marvolo Gaunt and Soloman Sallow."

Sebastian squirmed uneasily in his chair as the official paused in her speech, sifting through a paltry pile of paperwork and giving each document a half-hearted skim before continuing.

"After examination of the evidence, members of the Wizengamot have reached a verdict. Sebastian Sallow has been found liable for luring Marvolo Gaunt into the Feldcroft catacombs, resulting in the latter's tragic demise."

Nova gripped Ominis' hand so tightly that she felt her nails cutting into his palm.

"Liable," he whispered to her. "Liable, not guilty."

"However," the Ministry employee pressed on, casting a glare of irritation towards the interruption, "He alone did not initiate the tragedy. The true instigator remains at large—a faceless witch or wizard who saw fit to curse Anne Sallow, setting this chain of events into motion."

A clap of thunder from the enchanted ceiling mirrored the fury flickering across Sebastian's features at the mention of his sister, but the court remained indifferent. An Auror shot a spark up at the rafters, muting the disturbance.

"In light of this and given that the association of dark magic has been attributed to the deceased uncle, Soloman Sallow, this court decrees the following sentence for one Sebastian Sallow: a five-year suspended sentence for his involvement. You shall  not  be imprisoned on the condition you refrain from engaging in unlawful activities during this period. Should you breach the terms, you will face the full sentence determined by this court. We expect you to take this opportunity to lead a lawful and productive life."

He's coming home.

"Is it over?" Nova's voice was drowned out by the flood of her tears and the onlookers rising from their seats, Ominis among them. Still grasping his hand, Nova stumbled behind him, her feet barely touching the ground as he practically sprinted to the stand.

An Auror attempted to separate Sebastian from Ominis, but he embraced his friend tightly. Nova's tearful gaze shifted between the two bodies, unable to distinguish whose shoulders were trembling; both seemed plausible.

"Where are you taking him?" she demanded, her voice quivering with panic as the Auror tried again to usher Sebastian towards the exit.

"You may retrieve him twenty-four hours after completing the necessary paperwork."

"One more day," Sebastian exclaimed, lifting her off her feet in a hug that threatened to crush her ribs before reluctantly yielding to the officer's pull. "Just twenty-four hours and everything will be back to normal. It's over."

 

Ominis adamantly denied any connection between his mother's presence and his refusal to leave Nova's side until they reached St. Mungo's apothecary, though it was clear he was flustered.

Pushing her unwelcome worries aside, Nova dropped a bouquet of valerian sprigs into the steaming cauldron. It belched up a burning mist of luminous fog, and she ducked to avoid it with a hiss. Her night with Ominis was beginning to take its toll. A slow nod of her head followed each blink, and the exhaustion was threatening to plunge her headfirst into the scalding potions.

A refreshing shot of vigour flowed through her veins when her supervisor apparated into the apothecary and flung a file onto the brewing station.

"There's been a skirmish," she declared stiffly. "The fourth floor is understaffed already, and now it's flooded with wounded Aurors. This batch needs to be finalised and delivered to them.  Immediately ."

When my father was admitted to St Mungo's, I made certain you'd be kept far away from his ward. 

Ominis' words echoed in Nova's mind, but before she could convey them to her superior, she had stormed out to bark orders at another apprentice.

Nova charmed the ladle to fill phials with the swirling crimson liquid, her teeth clicking in disapproval at the sight of the grim report: stinging hexes, a backfired bombarda, and a slew of gangrene curses. It was bound to be carnage up there.

Whoever Ominis had managed to pay off had been thorough. The magic of the barriers, typically used to deter wandering patients and visitors, shimmered into visibility as Nova approached the threshold of the fourth floor.

"I've been dispatched from the apothecary," Nova announced as she approached the reception desk. "I have the requested potions."

The staff member stationed behind it didn't spare her a glance, her fingers fumbling through a bloodstained stack of ministry paperwork on counter-curses. "Then stop dawdling and take them through?"

Nova rapped her knuckle against the blockade, "Don't you think I would if I could?"

The witch finally looked up, her eyes narrowing as they fell upon Nova's name tag. "Oh, you're that one."

"You'll need to call someone to collect—"

A bloodcurdling scream ripped through the nearest open door, weakening into a sickening gurgle. The commands of a healer followed, directing attempts to staunch the flow of blood.

"Does it look like we have spare hands?" the employee snapped, dispelling the barriers with a dismissive wave. "Get moving."

Nova tightened her grip on the trolley and steered it toward the commotion. The sight was a visceral assault on her senses, and she had to fight to keep her composure. The auror's wand had been obstructed mid-bombarda, shattering it and tearing apart half his face in the resulting blast. Shards of splintered mahogany were embedded in his tattered skin.

She seized a vial of blood-replenishing potion from the collection, her gaze flickering briefly to the diagnostic projection suspended over the bed. "Anything else besides this and Skele-Gro?" she asked, banishing the blood with a flick of her wand before administering the medicine.

"Pain relief. Lots of it," the head healer replied. "Are you competent in fabricating synthetic skin?"

Nova conjured a layer of iridescent coating and secured it over the wounds while the healers worked to regrow the damaged flesh. As the situation stabilised, the other staff members dispersed to attend to less urgent patients until only Nova remained. She tilted the man's head back to assist him in sipping water and topped up his pain relief before leaving him to rest.

Closing the door to the ward behind her, Nova took a few steps toward the reception desk, though her head was craned in the opposite direction. At the far end of the fourth floor, where the private rooms were located, she spotted his name etched on the door.

 

Gaunt, M.

 

Ominis' incessant voice in her head screamed at her to leave, but her legs refused to obey—carrying her closer so she could inspect the scribbled notes.

 

Private Room 1 - Confidential

Diagnosis:  Unidentified curse, dark. Research ongoing.

Medication:  Draught of living death.

Unauthorised access or tampering with this information is subject to extreme consequences.

 

Draught of the living death?

Her skin erupted in a wave of goosebumps. The powerful potion was exceptionally rare, inducing a death-like slumber as a last-resort measure to stall symptoms and buy time for diagnosis and treatment.

He was asleep.

The door had no handle and was accessible only to hospital staff. Driven by an insatiable curiosity, Nova's palm instinctively found its way to the panel, and with a faint click, the door permitted her entry.

The noxious stench of dark magic billowed from the figure in the hospital bed like a thick fog. Its tendrils snaked under her skin and coiled around her senses. Every inhalation felt like shards of glass tearing through her chest, threatening to slash her apart with every breath.

The unresponsive wizard embodied the name Gaunt—His pallid skin stretching taut over his skeletal frame. His complexion was a sickly blue hue, starkly contrasting the intense black circles underlining his eyes, rimmed with veins that pulsated with every laboured breath escaping his brittle lungs.

The appearance, the smell… It sent Nova stumbling backwards out of the room. Her body crashed to the floor, her pain lost in the rush of adrenaline and confusion. Her mind raced, frantically sifting through memories, trying to recall any mention of the relic since Marvolo's murder.

The curse that was slowly consuming the man before her was indistinguishable from the one that killed Anne.

Notes:

I wanted to delve deeper into Sebastian's life since the incident, but since the story revolves around Nova and Ominis from her perspective, I couldn't really find a natural way to include it. So, once I finish this fic, I plan to write a two-chapter fic from Sebastian's perspective about his time in Ministry detention, just in case you were also wondering <3

Chapter 21

Nova's nails gouged into the sterilised walls of the hospital ward as she fought to her feet. She shook her head, blinking rapidly, desperately hoping she was hallucinating – it was just a cruel figment of her exhausted mind.

A sharp ringing drilled into her ears as she cast a glance back at the bedridden Gaunt. Dark magic pulsated from his lifeless body in tangible waves, swathing itself around Nova's clothes and sinking into her skin.

She turned on her heels and ran.

Her feet were heaving through quicksand, the ground dragging her under with each despairing stride. She collided with the reception desk, the impact startling the healer behind it. The woman shouted, but her words were incomprehensible as Nova scrambled wildly for parchment and a quill.

Ominis had insisted she send for him immediately following her shift so he could escort her home. As she started to pen the note, it shook loose a realisation. Ever since her impulsive decision to pull him to her lips in the carriage, he hadn't left her side. She'd chalked it up to having missed one another but now saw the ulterior motive.

He was guarding her.

Ominis was afraid. Paranoid. Was he complicit in his father's cursing, or was he the next target?

Where the fuck is St. Mungo's owlry?

Nova made a strangled noise as she shoved the parchment aside—a sound caught between a growl and a sob. Owls were too slow; she needed him now.

Fear tightened its bind on her chest as she bolted down the corridor, shepherded by the guiding signs to the visitors' lounge. Stunned inpatients clutched their chests at the heavy doors crashing against opposing walls as Nova burst through them.

She grasped a handful of floo powder, the fine particles slipping through the cracks in her fist as she cast it into the fireplace.

"Gaunt Manor."

 

The witch touched down on the outer edge of a prodigious estate. An emerald flame fought against the wind beneath a crumbling carving of Ignatia Wildsmith.

The darkness was oppressive. Her first instinct was to strike up a lumos, but the wind's shrill cries through the undergrowth put her on edge and made her reluctant to reveal her position. Tall spires of a gate stood sentinel to her left; the eroded iron proudly emblazoned with the Gaunt crest.

It grated loudly against the gravel as Nova forced it open and squeezed through the gap.

The mansion's silhouette was just a shadow against the inky expanse of the night sky. The path stretching toward it was flanked on either side by a dense thicket of trees, their gnarled branches reaching out to snatch at wisps of her hair as she ran past. Agony ripped through the muscles in her neck as she tried to advance, but her magic spluttered under her skin as Ominis' wards impeded her every attempt to apparate.

The entrance to the Manor itself was fortified with an excessive array of shields, evidenced by the scorched and blackened ground encircling the perimeter.

An apparition materialised as Nova's foot descended onto the first step of the patio, causing her to stagger back in shock.

"Name?" The house elf asked.

"Nova Fen…."

The creature condensed into a singular point and disapparated with a faint crack.

With a hand pressed against her pounding heart, Nova fought to regain control of her breathing. She tilted her head back, scouring the tall rows of ornate windows for any sign of Ominis, but no hint of life shined through any panes.

After an unbearable delay, a sliver of light sliced across her face as the front door scraped open. Gnarled fingers curled around the edge of the narrow crack as the elf cautiously peered out. Without warning, a net of charms shot from his fingertips—a finite incantatem followed by a slew of polyjuice detection spells.

Satisfied with her identity, he widened the doorway a fraction with a resigned grunt. "Grimkin wasn't informed of visitors."

"I need to speak with Ominis. Is he home?"

"Master was asleep. Getting himselfs fit to be seen."

"No one else is here, are they?" Nova strained to see through the slit in the door, her oesophagus constricting with each passing second Ominis failed to appear in it. "Who are you? Ominis never mentioned a house elf."

"Grimkin has faithfully served the house of Gaunt for a century!" the elf's tone spiked with offence at the contention. "Would have served for many more."

"Would?" Nova repeated, the blood draining from her face. The shadows swallowed her as she instinctively retreated beyond the reach of the light. "What's stopping you?"

Grimkin slowly raised a crooked finger.

The gale whipped at Nova's skin as she shivered helplessly in the shadow of the Manor. The splintered fingernail of the Gaunt's devoted servant pointed accusingly at her panic-stricken face.

"Gaunt business aren't for discussions with filthy blood," he hissed through gritted teeth before firing a spell.

Nova's wand shot up, and a powerful protego blossomed around her.

Grimkin's magic surged towards her, but it dissipated harmlessly into the Manor's protective wards, dismantling the defences and unveiling a clear path for her to enter the household.

"Grimkin is instructed to bring the witch inside and see to it her every request is met."

Nova held steadfast to her shield. "You... you said would," she stammered, hovering at the threshold of the breached wards. "You know something, don't you? About what's happening to Ominis' father?"

"We hold master Gaunt in our thoughts. His family is hopeful for a swift recovery." Grimkin answered, his enunciation jarringly eloquent for an elf.

It was a rehearsed response. Ominis had imparted it when Nova questioned him on the convenient timing of his father's illness. She'd heard him recite it endlessly to well-wishers at the Ministry, each repetition more hollow and insincere than the last.

"Ominis has instructed you to say that, hasn't he?"

"Gaunt matters aren't for discussions with fil—"

"You've been ordered to meet every request I have, Grimkin," Nova snapped, dispelling her protego and levelling her wand at the vexed elf. "I request answers. What have the Gaunt's gotten themselves into?!"

"Not anything," Grimkin spat in outrage, his fists clenching at his sides. "The Gaunt's is having their innocence dragged through the mud. They stand tall, noble, honourable—"

"Then who's behind the cursing? Who's dragging their name?"

"Nasty brat stole master away from his blood, poisoned his mind he did. Cowardly snake slithering in the dark, spreading lies and curses like a plague."

"Stole him away? Are you talking about... Do you mean Sebastian?"

"The trial of Sebastian Sallow," Grimkin snarled the words like they scorched his tongue. "Filthy lies. The catalyst for the downfall of House Gaunt."

"No... no, Sebastian was on trial for the death of Marvolo. I'm talking about the curse that's killing Ominis' father."

“As is Grimkin.”

“Nova?”

A familiar crimson light poured across the porch as the door swung open fully at the hands of Ominis. He held his wand aloft, its blinking tip directing its focus to Nova's defenceless form on the darkened path.

"I told you to send an owl when your shift ended. It would be best if you didn't travel alone," he said with his customary air of dissatisfaction. He had thrown an old Slytherin jumper on over his nightwear, his flashing wand clutched firmly in hand. It was a comforting sight that embodied the word home. "Come inside the wards."

Nova's chest convulsed with a sob, and Ominis blurred into a watery haze as tears flooded her eyes.

Sebastian.

Sebastian was behind this, and Ominis knew it.

"I know who cursed your father."

They festered in an unbearable silence, buffeted by the raging gale that thrashed at their clothes and battered dead leaves against the protective shields they flanked on either side.

There was a subdued crack at Ominis' feet as Grimkin disapparated from his master's side.

"Sebastian has the relic, doesn't he?"

"The relic was destroyed."

"Ominis, I saw it. Your father was bedbound. The tendrils of a dark curse were throbbing under his skin. It was the spitting image of Anne before she—" Nova dropped her eyes and stared at her hands, still stained with blood. "You intentionally kept me from seeing him; you can't stand there and claim you know nothing."

Ominis's knuckles cracked as he tightened his grip on his wand. He hovered on the precipice of the wards before taking a hesitant step beyond them. "You need to lower your voice or come inside, now."

"I'm not stepping foot in there. I don't know where I'm safe anymore."

"You're safe with me. You know I'll do whatever it takes to ensure your protection."

"From who? The Ministry? Your family? Sebastian? You've left me in the dark, Ominis. I have no idea who's out to get me."

"You're safe with me," Ominis repeated, his palm encasing the back of her neck as he pressed his forehead against hers. He was warm, he was so warm, and she was cold. "I was tasked with taking inventory of my brother's... acquisitions... after he passed away. It took me the better part of a year to track down the relic."

"And you destroyed it?"

"The relic was destroyed."

She grasped the implication behind his deliberate choice of words. Ominis would never lie to her, just tailor his language to conceal the truth.

"You weren't the one who destroyed it, were you?"

His sightless eyes drifted across Nova's features momentarily before he began to pace around her like a caged animal. "You remember how furious Sebastian was. He was self-destructive, striking out at anyone attempting to offer their hand. How did you put it? He was determined to wipe out my family or die trying?"

"Is he still trying?" Nova's wand bit into her fist as she clenched it tighter. She would bury a million Gaunts to protect Ominis, but the thought of striking down her closest friend tested her resolve.

"My father was playing on Sebastian's outbursts to hinder any progress I made with the authorities. He delayed Sebastian's trials at every opportunity." His voice cracked as his hand painfully clamped around her wrist. "Nova, the things he was demanding I do for him... Keeping Sebastian on tenterhooks was his only leverage to make me do them. He would never release him. I had to make Sebastian work with me; I could only get you both out if he cooperated."

"I spent over a year trying to sway him, and you accomplished it in a single visit. What did you do?"

"I thought... it would provide him closure if he were the one to dispose of the relic..."

Nova felt as though she were one ragged breath away from shattering apart.

Sebastian wasn't vengeful. At the verdict, he had wrapped his arms around Ominis and cried. He was grateful.

"You gave it to him."

"No. Even a Gaunt wouldn't dare to be caught with something that dark in their possession. I buried it in Feldcroft." Now that she had gotten him talking, he couldn't seem to stop. Unbelievable words poured out of him, faster and faster. "When I visited him, it was to arrange an off the record day-release with the warden. I guided Sebastian on where to find the relic, instructed him on the spells necessary to destroy it…"

"Are you out of your mind?! What the hell did you expect to happen—"

"That's not all," Ominis interrupted. The corners of his mouth twitched several times before his admission of guilt spilt out. "I informed him to stay clear of a restaurant in muggle London—The Brasserie Royale—as that's where my father would be conducting business, all day."

The ground tilted under Nova's feet, and she staggered backwards. Her wand slipped from her fingers and clattered to the ground.

Ominis had armed his best friend, stoked his anger, and directed him towards his target.

He might as well have unleashed the curse with his own hands.

"You used him."

"I provided the means for him to mete out justice as he deemed necessary."

"All those years you preached against dark magic…"

"I was expected to wield dark magic daily on innocents just like Anne. This was the only recourse; it was for the greater good." Ominis' fists kept opening and closing as though he were suppressing the urge to break something. "He'd make threats against you too. He would threaten to use Imperius on me, force me into hurting you when I refused to crucio his associate's children. I had to do something."

Nova buried her face in her palms as guilt pierced her heart. If she hadn't been consumed by anger and grief after Ominis' abandonment, she might have understood what he was returning home to. She could have fought to get him out—her mind had shielded her from it.

They'd both made mistakes born from heartache.

"Sebastian broke the cycle," Ominis whispered, dropping his forehead against hers. "He let go of the relic and his thirst for revenge; he saved us."

"The ministry will connect the dots."

"Only a handful knew of Sebastian's release, and those who did have been obliviated."

“Grimkin… He knows...”

"Grimkin is loyal to the Gaunt's. I am the Gaunt's now." Ominis proclaimed, his touch leaving trails of fire along Nova's skin as his fingers cradled her jaw. "It could be us. I want it to be you and me."

Nova croaked out an unintelligible string of syllables as a flush of heat burst through her chest. "What... What are you—"

"That thought was my lifeline. It held me together when I left you. Each vile act I was coerced into, every cruciatus I endured. They were all sacrifices made in the pursuit of being reunited with you. Please, I beg of you, forgive me."

She wanted to tell him she loved him.

She loved him the instant he raised her off the scriptorium floor and soothed her excruciating skin with soft hands and softer words as she shivered blindly against his chest. Her lungs could never draw a full breath without him near. Wherever he was, she needed to be there. She would stand by whoever he became, always.

Even if she could articulate words through the spasms wracking her chest, Ominis wouldn't have heard it.

The brittle snap of branches at the edge of the treeline had his undivided attention. Unlike the previous whispering of the wind in the undergrowth, this one came without a gust of a passing breeze.

"Nova, get inside."

She was frozen. Her eyes locked on the shadow creeping out of the woods.

Ominis positioned himself defensively in front of her.

The figure raised a wand and spoke.

"Avada Kadavra."

Chapter 22

Notes:

Content Warning: This chapter contains graphic depictions of violence and gore.

The Gaunt Estate flashed green as Nova rammed her body into Ominis.

The forked bolt of emerald lanced from the tree line, its heat blistering Nova's skin as it narrowly missed her shoulder and cleaved a deep crater into the earth. Molten grit and wisps of smoke snaked through the air as they lay winded on the ground, carrying with it the searing radiation of the killing curse that permeated their lungs.

Her chest was on fire; she couldn't perceive which way was up, but the bite of gravel slicing into her palms assured her she was alive. She reached a trembling hand towards Ominis, his name escaping her lips in a raspy cough.

Confirmation of his survival came in the form of a hoarse "Depulso."

He was ripped from under her fingers as she was propelled towards the Manor, but someone intercepted his spell, and Nova was wrenched to the ground—her skull cracking against the marble steps outside the boundary of the wards.

A shadow slithered closer to where Ominis lay, hacking up lungfuls of smoke.

Nova clenched her teeth against the agony flaring up her spine and brandished her wand, hurling an incendiary hex in the direction of their assailant.

The golden orb streaked past the attacker as they parried to the left, offering a fleeting glimpse of Lady Gaunt's twisted face before it detonated in the thicket behind her. Flames eagerly devoured the dry leaves and began creeping into the dense foliage, the flickering blaze exposing two more figures closing in.

"You've stolen everything from me, you foul rat!"

A boot stamped down on Ominis' wand as he fought to raise it. He choked out an incantation that hacked through his mother's Achilles tendon, and she shrieked in pain as her leg crumpled beneath her.

Nova's vision swam as she fought against the tide of unconsciousness threatening to drag her under. She clawed back to the surface, spurred on by the sound of Ominis calling her name.

"I'm… here," she gasped, each shallow breath accompanied by something grating inside her chest. A veil had descended over her eyes, casting the world in a crimson haze. She palmed at it and felt warm, slick liquid trickling down her wrists, saturating the fabric of her hospital pinafore. "Ominis?"

"Get inside."

He swayed to his feet while deflecting an onslaught of stunning spells closing in on him from all three assailants.

A diffindo tripped past his defences and cleaved his kneecaps. A sharp cry ripped from his throat as he fell to his knees, blood pooling in the scattered pebbles beneath him. Before he could muster the strength to dodge, a stunner found its mark—blasting into his shoulder, and Ominis slumped, defeated, at the knees of his mother.

Nova's grief-stricken scream raked up her scorched throat.

She was in agony.

All they suffered had been for nothing.

They should have stayed in the Room of Requirement, starved to death as Ominis had warned her they would. At least it would have been on their terms. Together.

She had been drowning ever since she awoke to his note, alone.

But those words, they had been the only thing keeping her from sinking deeper.

 

Nova,

Leaving while you sleep is not easy, but if you ask me to stay, I won't have the strength to resist.

I have to go in order to find my way back to you, to truly be with you.

My absence isn't abandonment. Trust that every step I take is in pursuit of you.

I love you.

Ominis.

 

Adrenaline sped through her veins.

She knew their execution was inevitable, but only with Ominis' by her side would she accept it. Hand in hand, braving whatever death had in store for them as one.

She forced her head up.

"Marvolo…" a familiar voice spat, their form looming over Ominis' body like a herald of vengeance. "This is for him."

Alice's hand shivered as she levelled her wand.

Nova's shattered ribs were grinding against her efforts to inhale. She pressed a bloodied palm against the balustrade for support and snarled out a disembowelling jinx.

Sparks blasted from her wand, but maternal hands snatched Alice out of harm's way, and the killing curse intended for Ominis blasted off into the clouds.

Alice's mother knocked back Nova's hex.

"Not my daughter, you bitch!"

Nova became disillusioned and flattened herself against a wall, channelling her desperation into redirecting the spell's trajectory back towards her attackers. Its momentum had slowed significantly with the twice-altered path, but she threaded it through the dark witches and nicked Alice in the abdomen.

A look of fright flitted across her face as she clawed at her wounded belly. A pause followed, thick with tension, before the first droplets of blood began to seep through her fingers—and then the torrent came.

Her mother's wild desperation to defend her child made her duelling technique exaggerated and predictable. Nova's eyes traced her wand movements, foreseeing, moulding, and repelling each incoming attack into blazing flares that tore through the night sky.

Signals for help.

Golden light fell across Ominis, who was regaining his bearings. His fingers skimmed along the rough gravel, seeking out the familiar touch of his wand. Nova's opponent made the deadly mistake of diverting her attention towards him to draw her out of her position, arching her wand for a close-range Bombarda.

The Auror Nova had tended to earlier in the evening glinted in her mind at the recognition of the spell—how he had been obstructed mid-cast. Inspired by the memory, Nova bloomed a protego around Alice's mother as she voiced the incantation.

The intention was to incapacitate, to inflict enough damage to keep her down.

Instead, the blast slammed into the walls of the shield and ricocheted back into the witch.

Billows of dense smoke dissipated into crimson streams that cascaded down the forcefield's walls, carrying sluggish chunks of debris in their wake.

Nova shook her head, blinking and trying to clear her vision.

Alice's scream made it real.

Flames curled around the twisted branches that flanked Gaunt Manor, the stifling heat further hindering her attempts to breathe and the light seeping through the black spots clouding her vision.

The air was thick with the scent of blood and dark magic; Alice was kneeling amongst the carnage with gore swarming her abdomen.

Nova's healer instincts kicked in.

She dispelled the disillusionment and staggered forward, only semi-lucid.

"Let me see," she croaked, dropping to her knees and prying Alice's icy hands from the wound.

She laced synthetic skin over the puncture and sealed it tight to contain the damage while cataloguing the potions needed to stabilise Alice's deteriorating condition. A calming draught first, to alleviate her distress—she was shrieking and clawing at blood-soaked grass for reasons Nova's mind was fighting to suppress.

"St. Mungo's, ward four." The words scraped up Nova's throat as she slipped Alice's wand into its owner's hand. "Apparate."

Alice's eyes were hazy and unfocused as she hiccupped blood, scarlet freckles painting her paling lips. Her fingers stiffened around the glossy oak; her wand was sparking, but she remained.

The anti-apparition wards.

Nova's panic collided with a visceral dread when she turned to Ominis and found him locked in a duel.

Mother and son were exchanging hexes of escalating malice, each probing for a weakness in the other's shields. Ominis was skilled in defence and held his ground as his mother advanced toward him to exploit an opening at closer range.

He growled out an arresto momentum, freezing her arm in an upward trajectory and a torture curse flashed red against the clouds. She was casting too many dark curses; Nova could see the colour draining from her skin as she continued pushing herself to the brink of magical exhaustion. The attacks she discharged were wilting into feeble downward curves, but she knew how to exploit her weakening state. She released a storm of diffindos, knowing Ominis stood little chance of deflecting them all.

The ghostly blades struck Nova and Ominis, the serrated edges tearing through the flesh of their raised arms with excruciatingly slow force, their bodies jerking backwards as the spell struggled to hack all the way through.

This was it.

Nova was beyond exhausted; every inch of her body screamed for respite.

Ominis' voice rang out as he tried to shelter them against another blitz of slicing spells.

Then, silence.

Something tumbled into Nova's lap, and she whimpered as liquid began seeping across her thighs.

Ominis' signet ring winked at her from his severed hand, fingers curled in a final, futile attempt to grasp hers.

His defeat had breathed some life back into his mother, and her black eyes flitted to her next target.

Nova had seen this before.

Wrath blazing in a Gaunt's fading eyes, their wand poised to deliver the final strike.

Wood bit into Nova's bloodied skin as the two witches raised their wands in tandem.

Her nightmares served a purpose.

All she had suffered hadn't been for nothing.

She wouldn't let it be for nothing.

She mirrored the spell Marvolo had cast at her a thousand times in her restless sleep.

"Avada kadavra."

 

Nova woke with a gasp.

The killing curse crackling in her ears mutated into fierce thrashes of her heart against her ribcage. Her fingers were trembling, stacks of paperwork slipping from her lax grip and fluttering across the Persian rug.

She blinked away the remnants of the memory in a panic, her mind lagging behind as it writhed through the grove where she and Ominis had fought together.

Pushing the heels of her palms into her eyes, she performed the exercise Poppy had taught her to wrestle back control from the nightmares.

"Three things I can see," she whispered, expelling the black abyss by easing the pressure and cracking her eyelids. Relief flooded her as she beheld the sight of the ornate hearth, the dwindling embers winking off the polished mahogany.

Her eyes flitted down, searching for a second focal point—her shaking hands. Drawing in a breath, she flexed her fingers to steady them. The scars running the length of her forearms sneered at her and challenged her resilience, but then a third factor wound its way around her ankles.

"Three things I can feel," she whispered to the creature poised on hind legs, his imploring paws snagging at the hem of her dress.

She lifted the young kneazle from the ground and settled him onto her lap, where he immediately set about exploring. He butted the soft curve of his head against her chin, and she nestled her face in his thick ginger coat, allowing it to brush away her tears while counting the rhythmic purring from her little companion as the second sensation.

She scratched his chin, wincing at the cramp that gnawed at her knuckles. The endless paperwork from sorting through Ominis' affairs had caused an insistent ache to radiate through her tired fingers.

Three things I can hear.

The room was filled with a symphony of quacking from the lake outside, carrying in on the gentle breeze wafting through the open window.

"Are the nightmares plaguing you again, my dove?"

The motherly cadence of the former Lady of the Manor wrapped around Nova's scattered thoughts like a hug.

"That night at Gaunt Manor," Nova told the canvas, her voice muffled by a comforting swath of orange fur. "I haven't had it for a while. It caught me off guard..." Nova sank deeper into the plush armchair, its velvet cushions moulding to her body.

The serenity of Noctua's living room eased her turbulent mind, and the warmth of the evening sun filtered through stained glass and planted technicolour kisses on her skin.

This was her penance? The consequence of the atrocities she performed that night?

 "…just the product of a guilty conscience."

Noctua's painted eyes softened with quiet sympathy. "The fault doesn't lie with you, sweetheart."

That was difficult to dispute. Gaunt influence didn't even play a role in swaying the Ministry's opinion in her favour; it was a clear-cut case. Ominis was ambushed for his inheritance, and Nova was caught in the crossfire.

St. Mungo's were less lenient, but that was understandable. Unforgivable Killing Curse aside, Nova's suppression of a bombarda maxima and Alice bleeding out as she crawled down the driveway in a wasted attempt to bypass the wards were extensively documented in the Daily Prophet. Healers and patients alike refused to entrust someone who had taken the lives of three witches so brutally with the healing of the masses.

Gathering her strength of mind, Nova knelt on the golden threads of the rug and began sifting through the documents scattered across it. A commotion erupted from the adjacent floo parlour, breaking her concentration as she arranged the parchment into numerical order.

A grin tugged at the corners of her lips, the tension in her soul easing.

"How does a blind amputee stick the landing better than I do every damn time?"

Noctua shook her head affectionately from her gilded frame. "Go see how their first day went; I always knew those young men were destined for greatness."

Nova filled the doorframe just in time to witness Sebastian hauling himself to his feet, brushing off a thick layer of ash that coated the arse of his Auror robes.

Ominis was laughing at his plight, a vision of immaculate perfection.

As Nova's amusement interlaced with his, he extended an arm, the emerald flame from the fireplace casting a glint off his silver, enchanted hand.

"We're home."

She fell against his chest, where his steady heartbeat served as a soothing rhythm to hers.

Today marked the longest they had been apart since the ambush; she prayed it would become easier with time.

When she had regained consciousness in the hospital, concussed, ribs shattered, and skull fractured, Ominis was, of course, already lucid and at her bedside.

They had recuperated side by side while his legal team handled affairs at the Manor in his absence. It was during this time Noctua's letters were discovered in his father's bureau, prompting the immediate recovery and proper burial of her body.

In her will, she had bequeathed all assets to Ominis.

 

Noctua's home towed a perfect line between Manor and cottage, a stark contrast to Ominis' ancestral home. While the latter flaunted every corner of its estate with harsh architecture and ostentatious sculptures to parade its lineage and wealth, Noctua allowed nature's hand to govern her grounds.

The Slytherin trio shed their shoes and headed straight for the estate's crown jewel. Oak planks groaned softy underfoot as they stepped onto the veranda overlooking the beauty of Noctua's lake. Swans glided across the glittering surface, the lazy songs of their cygnets harmonising with the lapping waves. Cherry blossoms danced in the breeze, their petals joining the cascading foliage of the weeping willows.

With champagne in hand, they gathered around the firepit in joyful celebration.

"First day of training down, just one thousand and ninety-four to go," Sebastian toasted, his forehead scrunching as he noticed Ominis was only half listening. "What are you looking for?" 

"Where is my son?"

"Oh, he was here just a moment ago…" Nova scanned the area, her eyes landing on a kneazle-shaped lump nestled in a ray of sunlight. "Garreth? Daddy's home, baby boy."

The golden creature was napping on the timber beams, his body so flat that it wasn't immediately clear where the sunbeam ended and kneazle began.

Nova slipped her palms beneath the furry mass, lifting him off the ground without breaking his shape and depositing him into the waiting arms of his doting father.

"I hate that you named him that. You've made it needlessly difficult to warm up to the thing," Sebastian grumbled, which seemed like a barefaced lie to Nova, who was watching him scrape up a thumb of cream from his scone and offer it to the spoilt Kneazle. Garreth blissfully lapped it up while reclining in Ominis' arms, basking in chin scratches.

"It was Ominis who promised Weasley we'd name our firstborn after him, not me."

"I didn't think he'd hold me to it so… passionately."

"Have you met Garreth?"

The smooches Ominis had begun planting on the kneazle's little baby head was a stroke too far for Sebastian, who redirected his attention to Nova's mostly reordered stack of papers, which were fighting to break free from beneath a paperweight.

"So, is this the pitch?"

"It is. We're almost there; just a few kinks to iron out, and then I'll be hand-delivering it to The Minister."

"Read him the opening statement," Ominis urged.

Nova pulled the letter from under the marble weight, revealing a beautiful script on the highest-grade parchment.

 

Esteemed members of the Ministry,

I trust my name is familiar to you, as are the recent events Ominis Gaunt and I have faced, which have led to his inheritance of the Gaunt fortune and his ancestral Manor.

We have opted not to reside there, considering the horrors we faced. So, I present to you our plans to reclaim the meaning of Gaunt Manor and donate it to a cause that impacts the lives of those in the wizarding community.

Through no fault of their own, muggle-born witches and wizards face prejudice daily. These children form the majority in all wizarding poorhouses. Many transition from muggle institutions, where their unique needs were not met, and upon arriving in the wizarding world, they have stunted knowledge and a sense of alienation.

It is our duty to extend a hand.

The Gaunt Orphanage will be a sanctuary with a workforce of half-blood and muggle-born employees who, in addition to providing practical care, will offer empathy based on shared experiences. These mentors will guide the children through their formative years and provide vital support academically, socially, and emotionally.

We can't undertake this alone. We seek the collaboration of the Ministry; your guidance in navigating regulatory processes, finances and legal compliance will be invaluable.

Please find enclosed details of our proposal. We await the opportunity to discuss this in greater detail.

Nova Fenwick and Ominis Gaunt.

 

"See what happens when you refuse to put a baby in your spouse?" Sebastian mused, his lips freckled with specks of scone. "They adopt fifty."

Ominis nodded as though this was entirely conventional, "I'd rather take in an army of surplus children than endure the presence of another Gaunt on any given day."

"The pitch is exceptional, Nova," Sebastian smiled earnestly, "And if they don't listen, you'll soon have that shiny new surname to throw around."

Nova's heart swelled as she admired the polished ring gleaming on her left hand.

The signet ring she had refused to accept belonged on Ominis' finger, now resting snugly on hers.

She had barely gained consciousness before he had slipped it on her finger, with tearful declarations and heartfelt promises to swap it for a diamond at the earliest opportunity, but Nova didn't want that.

It was a part of him, a cut of his identity. He couldn't change his ancestry, but he could redefine what it represented.

"We won't rely on our name to gain rewards; we're going to be better than that." Ominis intertwined his hands with hers, gently tracing his finger over her ring as he drew her onto his lap.

"You used it to get a felon on the Auror training program," Sebastian pointed out, injecting a dose of reality into the moment and somewhat dampening its charm.

"That was necessary. I have to keep an eye on you."

"See, this is why things went awry last time: I'm not sure if you're aware, but they aren't exactly operational."

"That does it, go to your room."

"I plan to." Sebastian let out an arduous sigh as he rose from his wicker chair. "You know, it's been eight months since we moved here. I think it's time I start sorting through Anne's things."

"Do you want some help?" Nova offered, brushing her hand against his as he moved past, his watery eyes catching the sunlight.

He blinked hard, "No, I'd prefer to do it alone. Thanks, though. I'll join you for dinner later."

Garreth, who had been draping lazily on the arm of Sebastian's chair, stirred at the sound of his uncle departing the table. Extending his velvety paws out in front of him, he descended with elegant fluidity onto the hardwood floor, his claws emitting soft taps as he trotted after Sebastian. Nova and Ominis exchanged a laugh upon hearing Sebastian cooing a greeting, evidently making an exception for the kitten.

"So, are you feeling prepared?" Ominis asked as he topped their glasses with more champagne.

"Mostly, I still need to finalise plans for the hospital wing... It's refreshing being back in a healer mindset."

Since her termination from St Mungo's, she had immersed herself in studying theory, with a particular focus on paediatric care for wizardkind.

Perhaps she'd take her exams and become the orphanage healer.

"My contact at St Mungo's seems to think we'll be receiving our fair share of unnamed newborns," she informed him, tapping her ring against the stem of her glass. "It's going to be difficult to resist giving them the surname Gaunt, isn't it?"

"It's certainly tempting to head an emergence of non-pureblood Gaunt's. Have you many first names in mind?"

"How many Garreth Gaunt's do you propose we introduce to the world?"

"Good lord."

"Let's see how bizarre we can make your father's legacy."

"My ancestors will surely be writhing in their graves," Ominis purred, his smile brimming with satisfaction as he clinked his glass against Nova's.

"Let them writhe," she replied.

Let them squirm for eternity in the shadows of their mausoleum. Their time in the sun had set, and the stars of a new generation were blinking a hopeful awakening.

At the lake's edge, Nova and Ominis would unite as one beneath raining cherry blossom—the name that had kept them apart, binding them together.

Two souls that had touched hell could, at last, breathe freely, embrace, love and cast its radiant light to every dark corner in reach.

"The Gaunt's," Ominis breathed, pressing a kiss to Nova's lips. "Perhaps it's not such a terrible thing to be."

Notes:

The story arc of the Serpent's Hold has finally reached its end, and I hope you enjoyed the last chapter. Thank you to everyone who has left kudos, commented, or silently followed along; your support is everything.

I have two epilogue chapters planned for the near(ish) future. The first will likely be smutty because exploring the capabilities of that enchanted hand is a NEED. The second will be domestic bliss ft. Sebastian being a doting uncle to a plethora of orphans because that will heal my soul.

I also have plans for a two-part fic that covers the time jump between chapters sixteen and seventeen told from Sebastian's POV. It will include the murder of Daddy Gaunt and the inner workings of the Ministry justice system.

Thanks again for reading. Please do consider leaving a comment if you enjoyed the story, it will make my day, and I appreciate each one so much 💕