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sweetiebean00 · 2 days
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Of Dark Arts
Listen, this one imo is gonna get a wee bit maybe more dark? Then again this is the bit with the Scriptorium. Warnings for implied abuse, implied child abuse, implied a lot of shit - please be safe reading this guys I personally have been writing Ominis perspective in a mix of "I can't see how is things being done" and Toph Beifong xD
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Ominis groaned, pinching the bridge of his nose as he continued down the corridor with his wand guiding him. Talking to Sebastian had been a mistake. That much Ominis is certain of. With a deep breath, he ignored his friend. Ignored the pleading, the bargaining, the ceaseless badgering as he was followed from Potions back to the common room. Pain formed in the back of his neck, trailing up his skull as his mind raced with memories he didn't want to remember. With words, voices, and moments he could never stop reliving. Not even in his dreams. 
"For the last time Sebastian, I said no." Ominis whirled on his heel, wand jabbing his friend in the chest. He forced a breath in through his nose, slowly releasing it out his mouth at the cold sensation winding itself along his shoulders. "I'm sorry, but there's nothing good lying along this path."
Sebastian huffed, smacking the wand away. He could hear his friend as he paced, his steps more like stomps. Ominis refused to budge, refused to be moved by pleas. By begs, barters, and guiltless tactics of manipulation and wordplay. Yes, he cared for Anne. Yes, he wanted her back at Hogwarts with them as much as Sebastian did. However, Salazar's Scriptorium wouldn't have anything in it that was good, that would help anyone but Salazar Slytherin himself. Ominis refused to even think about it, to even share what his ancestor had been obsessed with. The Dark Arts were dark for a reason, they were not to be trifled with. They most certainly wouldn't bring anyone any healing, any help. 
"What are you two going on about?"
Ominis straightened, cheeks warming as he turned in the direction of the soft voice. Celia. He frowned, hearing her soft barely there steps echoing throughout the empty corridor. He could hear them talking, hear Sebastian swaying her to his side using information that was not his to share. If it was anyone else, Ominis would've yelled. Interrupted in some way, shape, or form. But it wasn't just anyone. It was her. 
Celia Clyde.
The one witch he couldn't get off his brain for the life of him. The warm feel of curves pressed into him, her soft skin beneath his. The smell of her even was enough to keep him up at night. His dreams didn't help, hearing her voice calling to him like she did in the Room of Requirements, the press of her against his chest like in the Undercroft. 
Only this time there weren't clothes separating them, only this time when she called his name it was a cry. A mixture of pleasure and lust that left a chill down his spine and goosebumps breaking out across his skin. Left him waking with her name on his lips, with her scent in his nose. That heady smell of fruit dancing from the trees, of old books mingling with that thick spicy smell of a candle burning. Left him waking hot and aching, his blood burning and pants tight and constricting as he heaved a breath. Left him casting a silencing charm before his mind was pretending the hand wrapping around him was smaller and unable to hold him properly. Pretending the hand had longer fingers with barely there-calluses as hot air puffed around him as pouty lips parted and-
Ominis took a breath, breaking from his thoughts only for her to be filling his nostrils another time in the last few hours. Only for it to be real and not the vivid imaginations of a sixteen-year old boy. He willed his body to obey, shoving every thought he's ever had of one of his closer friends away as she stood only a few steps away from him.
"Hello Ominis." 
Ominis had to stop himself from frowning. Something wasn't right, that old parchment and ink smell was stronger, almost overwhelming the rest of her scent. He could hear a sort of rattle in her chest, like a toy in a wooden box being rolled about. She cleared her throat, and he had to stop himself from pressing his fingers to her throat. From finding her pulse point to feel the heart that beat beneath because... because it shouldn't be beating as fast as it sounds. There was something... off. Her voice was tired, verging on strained. 
The joy is real, the cheer and utter delight in her tone is entirely genuine. She's happy to see him, and she had the same light airy notes with Sebastian, only a tad calmer with the other Slytherin. He wanted to smile at the way she read his mood, at the way she came across softer when needed. Instead, it only added to that feeling in that something wasn't quite right, only added to the checklist inside his head of mannerisms he was noticing, of behaviors that didn't sit well when a spotlight was shined on them just right.
"Good afternoon, Celia." He licked his lips, breathing a sigh at the way her breath seemed to hitch. "Don't try and argue for him, it won't work. Nothing good can come from Salazar's Scriptorium, he was a mad man obsessed with blood purity and the dark arts."
The silence lingered this time, but Ominis didn't mind. It gave him time to focus on that rattle in her chest, on the way her breaths were coming out shorter, quicker. A chill ghosted his spine and he shuddered, rolling his shoulders back. He didn't have time to focus on it, to ponder the reasoning of the goosebumps breaking across his skin. 
He frowned, lifting a hand to graze his knuckles along her jawline to her forehead. Resting his hand there for a moment, only to let it gently drag back down. She wasn't fevered, and she didn't feel flush. That didn't explain the gnawing in his stomach that said something was about to happen. He didn't like it. Didn't like not knowing, not being prepared for whatever was to come. 
"Blood purity?"
Ominis heart stopped at the innocence in that tone, at the curiosity. She didn't know. His brain short circuited, forgetting whatever he was thinking about as her question reverberated through his skull. Oh sweet bloody Merlin, she didn't know. She wasn't lying, was not pretending innocence. There was no hidden smile in her voice, no silent glee that had her bouncing on the balls of her feet. Celia was still, standing in place with her hands dangling at her sides and tangling in her skirt as she cleared her throat. Oh, Godric's heart. Why did it have to be him?
"Some in the wizarding world believe that magic should stay within all magic families." Ominis swallowed thickly, his hand gently trailing down from her face to her neck to feel her pulse beat against his palm.
Celia didn't respond. She didn't move, he wasn't sure she was even breathing. His chest tightened; beneath his hold she was stock stiff. Muscles tense, coiled far too tight. She was a band about to snap, and he frowned at the rattling that grew louder and shakier in her chest with every passing second in silence.
"Celia?" This time it was Sebastian to break the silence, his steps hurried as he crossed the corridor. "Celia? Ominis, what-"
"That's what a mudblood is, someone born to muggles. Someone who isn't born to a wizarding family." She inhaled, only to cough for a moment. Clearing her throat another time, her next words were spoken just above a whisper. "Someone like me."
"Celia, no. That's not-"
Celia didn’t let Ominis finish. Warm, clammy hands grazing featherlight along his wrist. Slowly, she pulled his hand off of her as she stepped back. His frown deepened. If it wasn’t for his keen hearing, he doubts he’d have known she moved at all. In a quick, fluid motion - Ominis had her wrist in his grasp. Tugging her forward once more until her hand was catching on his chest, her fingers splaying out along his school shirt. His heart fluttered beneath her palm, that ancient smell becoming powerful to the point of overwhelming and Celia cleared her throat again.
"Guess no matter the world I stand in, I'm still dirty blood." She huffed a short, bitter laugh that sent a pang through his chest at the low, hollow notes of her voice. "Good to know now what that Ravenclaw boy was spewing."
Ominis froze, his own muscles tensing beyond belief as her words rang like a church bell in his ears. Ravenclaw boy... Duncan Hobhouse. Puffskien Duncien. Ice burned through his veins as anger burned a fire in his chest. Spewing his pureblooded bullshit, was he? Ominis took a deep breath, maybe he should go have a talk with him. Maybe this time he'll let Sebastian stand as look out while he beats it into his thick fucking skull that there's no such thing as pure or dirty blood. Blood is blood, it's all red. All pumping through someone's veins. Though if he hears Duncan called Celia what he thinks he might have... there might be one less person with more blood on the inside then the outside in this world.
"Who." Sebastian growled, and Ominis snapped his head in his direction. He'd been so silent, he forgot he was there. "What Ravenclaw, Celia? What year? Better yet, did he call you anything?"
"Sebastian, no." Celia said, gone were the sweet warming lilts of her voice. Replaced with the lukewarm sentiments of someone who has accepted something. Like hell would Ominis allow that line of thinking. "Relaxed, we were here for a reason, remember? Aside from a lesson in wizarding terms, which if one of you gentlemen would be so kind as to share with me later?"
Silence, nothing but the sound of Sebastian's tapping foot. Ominis let his lips tug into a smirk at the sound of fabric shifting, tugging. He didn't need sight when he knew the familiar sound of a tie being loosen. When he loosened a tie, it typically meant there was a fight coming. One of magical or muggle means, and it usually ended with Ominis springing him from detention with a few words to Black.
"Fuck it, show me him. Now."
She squeaked, her hand fisting in Ominis' search as she jerked back. Ominis didn’t have time to think, instinct flaring as he shifted his grip on wrist to her forearm. He tugged her back, his other arm flying out to swing around her waist. Pulling her closer than she had been before as she braced herself with her hands on his chest. Merlin, if that wasn't a mistake. 
He swallowed, his name squealed into his shirt had his cheeks burning. His arms had locked around her back, not allowing any -if at all, struggle. She wiggled against him, shifting about in his hold as her face buried against his chest. Her warm breath dancing along his collarbone, sending shivers down his spine. Like this, he could feel everything. 
There wasn’t a part of them that was not pressed together. He could feel the curve of her hip beneath his hand, the warmth of her thin shoulders through her button-up. Feel the soft curves of her breasts firmly against him. This was a very big mistake, he breathed deep and fuck. That was not smart. Not smart at all. He could feel the blood rushing south, and it took every inch of his control to will his body to obey.
It didn't take much effort, when she cleared her throat for the billionth time. Then again. And again. And again, until she couldn't stop, and it turned into coughing. Raspy coughs that sounded like they were scratching and clawing on the way up her chest. Her grip tightened in his shirt, her thin shoulders shaking -correction. Her entire body was shaking with the force of her hacking. Ominis gingerly ran his fingers along her spine, patting her back between her shoulder blades as she heaved for breath.
"Can you please stop dying?" 
At Sebastian's whine, Ominis felt one of her hands shifting. Felt one of her long fingers lifted and felt the others curl as she shot Sebastian, a rather crude muggle gesture against his chest. He snorted at the indignant sound that came from his fellow Slytherin's throat, at least now he knew she was at least somewhat okay. 
"I'm not so sure you could keep up with me, Celia, I think Ominis might be more your pace."
Ominis scowled, fire dancing along his cheeks to the tips of his ears. He scowled, shooting him the same crude gesture against Celia's back. Sebastian's boisterous laugh filled the hall as Celia jerked away. His hands flexed, and it took everything Ominis had to loosen his grip. To let her slip through his fingers when he wanted nothing more than to pull her closer. To have her back in his arms and protected from the world that seemed to be needlessly cruel against her. 
She cleared her throat, the sound bringing clarity to his muddled mind. He wouldn't be sleeping well that night, not with the memory of her warm breath dancing along his skin. Of her heart beating strong, albeit too quickly for his liking in time with that little odd rattle inside her chest. 
"Back to the matter at hand," Celia cleared her throat. "Ominis, I understand your worries, your fears. But wouldn't it be better to be able to put that question to rest? To learn the truth on what happened to your Aunt Noctua? I apologize that Sebastian shared with me rather personal things about you without you knowing, but if I were you? I'd like to be able to say for certain what happened to my aunt. To know what happened to the woman I loved so much."
That is not what Ominis wanted her to say, and he hated the way his forever burning curiosity seemed to ignite and rise to the surface like smoke from a fire. He had long since accepted he would never know what happened, long accepted that something awful must have happened to his beloved aunt. Fought with himself on the wandering thoughts that conjured what if's to mind that he didn't want to think about. But was it truly better not knowing? Not knowing whether she died in pain, or in peace? If there was even a chance for her to have survived but been trapped inside his school? How many times had he laid awake at night wondering that... 
No. He wouldn't bend. He won't give in. Taking a deep breath to tell her how much he appreciated the effort, the thoughts, that he wouldn't be budging on this. Nothing good would come from Salazar Slytherin's Scriptorium, he was more than sure of it. Only to pause at the gentle wafting of lilac. Of lilac and gooseberries dancing with pine just beneath the curtain of the old books smell that grew stronger with every rattle of her chest, with every clearing of her throat.
Ominis swallowed, his stomach twisting itself further and tighter into knots as that feeling returned. If it ever left. Something wasn't right, something was off and he couldn't put his finger on it. Yet again, he was reminded of her stillness. Of the way she didn't dance about in place, there was an absence of fabric shifting, of tapping shoes as she bounced on the balls of her feet. No bapping of her braid lightly tapping against her back, no twisting of her skirts in her fingers. His chest tightened, the ominous weight settling on his shoulders. Soft, cold fingers grazed the inside of his wrist. Featherlight as they dragged along the back of his knuckles and down his dangling fingertips. 
"Please Ominis."
Fuck.
He sighed, he could hear her smile growing. He needed to find a way to ban her from saying those words in that order. Forever. Or until he gets her into his bed, whichever came first really. No, he scolded himself. Bad Ominis. Merlin, he really wouldn't be sleeping tonight if she kept saying things like that. If she kept using that... low, softened plea. How could he ever resist it?
"I... okay." He sighed, lips twitching at the corner of the sound of Sebastian stumbling from where he no doubt fell off the wall he'd been leaning on in surprise. "For Auntie Noctua; I'll do it."
"What? Just like that? You didn’t want to even think about it when I was asking.” Sebastian’s tone was accusatory, Ominis huffs. Arms crossing, he doesn’t want to dignify that remark with a response. “You hadn’t said what I wanted to hear.”
“Or, perhaps if I was over a foot shorter, smelling of flowers, and batting a set of big blue eyes at you.”
Ominis scowled, "Do you want me to change my mind, Sebastian?"
He  glared in the direction of Sebastian's snickers, wanting nothing more to take back his word. To not give his friend the satisfaction of any sort of dark magic secrets that would be hiding inside Salazar's hidden study. It would be easy, a very snarky comment to Sebastian and Ominis could be turning on his heel. Wand in hand as he left his friend to sulk outside the Slytherin Common Room. So why didn't he do it already? If he was going to be mocked-
"Shut up, Sebastian." Celia's voice was like honey, faux sweet and luring the innocent fly to the trap. He could almost picture the incredulous look upon his face as the sweetest girl in school told him to be quiet. "Is there anything you can tell us about the entrance, Ominis?"
If she would forever speak to him like that, like warm butter melting on toast. He would do anything she'd ask. He shoved those thoughts aside, knowing exactly what fantasies would be playing tonight inside his head as he adjusted his tie around his neck. She cleared her throat, the rattle getting louder, clearer inside his ears. Maybe he should try and buy them some time, try and convince Sebastian to take her to the Hospital Wing, or maybe get Sebastian back onto a war path. He did loosen his tie already; every student and teacher knows what it means when a Sallow walks about with their tie loose. Anne was just as notorious as Sebastian was for it. 
Even as Ominis wondered, he knew the answer for it. He had given his word, and she had sparked the wonder, the morbid curiosity about what happened to his Aunt. He knew she was dead, there's no way around it. Yet, he wonders how. Why. All sorts of questions that buzz through his mind that he doesn't even notice when Celia goes about solving the puzzle. Doesn't hear her ordering Sebastian about, until he hears the sound of stones shifting. Until he hears voices so hushed and hissing. The same words, the same phrases over and over in his ears.
Speak to me.
The hair on the back of his neck stood on end, goosebumps racing along his skin. His grip on his wand turns white-knuckled, his blood roaring to life just loud enough to drown out those haunting whispers. Snakes. Why did it always have to be snakes? Oh right, because his ancestor was a crazed, tacky fuck with a boner for reptiles. Why wouldn't chasing after the long-lost study of his wacky ancient grandfather involve talking to snakes?
Soft fingertips gently danced along the skin of his wrist, chasing away the goosebumps with a warm touch so gentle he shuddered. Celia hummed a quiet tune. A question in the simplest form, no words, just sound. Just thought and intent swirled together into a singular note that raised and lowered as needed. It was grounding. When her fingers got to his knuckles, he turned his hand around. Capturing hers in a vice-like grip he'd apologize for later. She didn't make a peep, didn't whimper, nor whine when he squeezed. Only squeezed back with those same soft notes that gave him the strength he needed to mutter something in parseltongue, she shuddered where she stood next to him. The flickering spice of a candle washed away as quickly as it raised when the door opened and a cloud of dust rolled out.
They have found the Scriptorium.
The pit in his stomach deepened, stifling air near suffocating. The feeling in his gut deepened once more as he stepped into the passage, his heart hammering in his chest. The door sealed shut behind him, the sound impossibly loud in his ears as Sebastian cursed. Deep breaths, he reminded himself, nose wrinkling as he inhaled dust. His grip tightened on his wand, Celia's hum cutting through Sebastian's rhetorical questions. The smooth slide of shifting metal had his ears perked, almost reminding him of a snake when they coiled to-
Fear gripped his heart in a tight grip, his arm shot forward. Coiling around her waist and tugging her away from what he's sure is a trap. A trick. Sharp, metal fangs dragged down his forearm and Ominis had never been more thankful to be wearing layers. She squeaked, but that only made him hold her tighter. He breathed, she was fine. She's safe. The thing didn't get her. 
"What in Merlin's name was that?!" Sebastian exclaimed, at the same time Ominis demanded: "What in Merlin's beard were you thinking!?"
"It's a puzzle! I'm sure of it!" She bounced in his hold, trying to get back to the enchanted lock that had tried to attack her moments ago.
"Are you insane?! It just tried to attack you not moments ago!" Ominis snapped, pinching the bridge of his nose with his other hand and taking a deep breath. "This was a mistake, we never should've come here."
Celia twisted in his hold, her tiny fists lightly tapping against the limb snug around her waist, against his chest. She cleared her throat, turning to try and pry his fingers off her side one by one. He wouldn't be budging, not on this. Not when she seemed fixated and focused on solving some magical puzzle that would apparently bite should she fail. She huffed, this close he heard the rattle grow, heard her cough turn into a swallow as she cleared her throat. The rattle got stronger and with it, the scent of old books sharpened and grew overwhelming once more.
"Celia-"
"Ominis!" She whined, dragging the letters in his name out as she flopped over his arm. Attempting to crawl out of his hold. He snorted, good luck with that. "Please! Let me just-"
"Celia." He cut off, flexing his arm till she was standing upright once more. 
A flicker of spice danced in his nose, and he grazed his other hand up her back. She shivered, the spicy smell starting to weigh in against the parchment and ink scent. His hand followed the length of her spine, to the nape of her neck where he dragged his touch along her throat to angle her chin upwards. To face him.
"Are you hurt?"
“N-no?”
Ominis didn't need his wand to find his way around. He's never actually needed it to find his way around. It is his preferred method to get around places. His senses have been dialed up higher than that of anyone's, his ability to hear, to smell, taste, feel, making up for the sense he had been born without. While having his wand was tremendously helpful, it wasn't how he first learned how to move about the world. He could feel the vibrations in the ground, the walls. Could hear them when someone spoke, the little vibrations that danced in someone's throat, their chest, their belly. He could see ripples in the world, allowing them to give him a silhouette of someone's figure with every vibration that partook their forms. 
It's how he had been able to tell when Anne or Sebastian were sneaking up on him, whether his mother was in a good mood. Whether Marvolo was ansty to hurt someone, something. When his father wasn't happy. He could hear it in the quiet hum of their chest with every breath they took, and hear it in the way they stepped. 
"Ominis," She whined again, and Merlin, he needed her to stop doing that. "Please?"
He didn't need eyes, didn't need a wand to see the world when seeing it in the way it breathed about him, was beautiful enough. However, his senses were never... this clear before. He swallowed the dryness in his throat, hearing Celia clear her throat as he finally let her slip free of his arms with Sebastian standing to the side to snatch her back if the snake tried to bite again. Because of course the entire passage would be snake related, this was the way to Salazar Slytherin's study after all. 
He couldn't not hear the way that rattle in her chest danced throughout her body. The way something vibrated inside her from shoulder to shoulder, from foot to foot, from the tip of her head and to the bottom of her toes. A continuous pulse of something inside her that made her figure clearer than the others. All through the vibrations she was projecting into the floor as her barely-there steps tapped against stone, through the wave of light that pushed and pulled like the Black Lake and her body the shore.
He didn't need his wand to travel the world, though it gave him more of an accurate view of the world. More precise, more accurate for walls. For stairs, and paths that were difficult. It helped him find walls before his skin did, helped him find a path clear of trees before the wind did. Everything was made easier with the use of magic, but Ominis preferred the way he could feel when someone was approaching, the body heat tied to emotions, the way they walked, their very breaths. All very telling ways to give him clues someone or something was approaching, the intent made ever clearer the closer they got.
He heard the clicking, the spinning of stone and metal as the door in front of them opened. He shoved thoughts of this peculiar addition away, focusing instead on how the hair of his arms hadn't stopped standing on end once. How the goosebumps on his skin started to hurt. How cold his hand felt since Celia pulled hers from his when she had caught sight of the snake, the hum of her interest a broken record inside his head as his mind played a dangerous game of what if. What if the snake had gotten her? What would it have done? With this area being tied to Salazar, he honestly wouldn't be surprised if it had made her suffer from some archaic form of dark magic. What if that rattle in her chest is a disease, an illness? What if she is sick and he should've held firm a few more moments? What if he didn't agree to this, what if he had confronted it? What if-
The door slammed shut behind them. The familiar squeak turned into a very short cough. The rattle was growing incessant and he could hear the whispers of the snakes once more, his blood turning to ice as Sebastian and Celia stiffened. He heard Sebastian swallow, and he heard the whispers. 
The key to the way forward is the one spell Ominis promised himself to never cast again. Crucio. That's why and how his aunt died, she had gone in alone, and had no one to cast it on, or to cast it on her. He knew this was a mistake! They never should have come here! Never! This will be another notch on his belt of regrets.
"Ominis-?"
"I won't cast it." He said firmly, head shaking as he paced by the door that sealed them in. 
She jumped at his tone, and he made a note to apologize for startling her later. His blood was roaring too loudly in his ears, a migraine was forming behind his eyes and his temples pounded. His grip clenched and unclenched on his wand, his other hand fisting at his side. 
"You don't understand, Celia, the pain -it's unimaginable, you would do anything for it to stop. My family used it on me, when I refused to cast it on muggles. Used it until I cast it on a muggle... don't ask me this."
Her touch was like ice on his heated skin, her fingers sliding along his wrist. Only to stop halfway down, to go up instead. His elbow was lifted, her touch like a balm on his wounds as she hummed. It wasn't like the higher note of intrigue, the soothing low of assurance. This was a middle, as high as low, and as calm as her natural speaking voice. 
"Ominis, you're bleeding." She spoke of it as an observation, as if discussing the weather. Her hands shook on his arm, her fingers clumsy as she wiped at his arm with something soft until pain like fire danced up his arm and he hissed. "The snake got you instead of me... oh Ominis, I'm so sorry."
He didn't have time to speak, to say a word as the pain came to the forefront of his mind. Maybe that was why he wasn't feeling so... confident. She dabbed at the wound, apologizing for every hiss of air he released through his teeth. She fiddled about, pressing something cold and smooth into his free hand with a quick command to drink. He didn't argue, obeying without a second thought and tipping it back to let the liquid slosh down his throat. He grimaced, wiggenweld never tasted the greatest. She hummed, pleased as the skin healed itself and stepped back.
"I- I won't ask you to ever curse someone Ominis. I am sorry, for your pain and for your Aunt."
She turned, gone from his side and back across the room in an instant. The feather-light steps turning firm. With the pings of sound dancing across her figure and across the floor of the hall they were trapped in as she squared herself opposite Sebastian. His hopeful tone trailing off at the look upon her face, if Ominis were to guess. Celia's next words were too fast and hushed for him to catch, a tone their friend didn't hesitate to match. They debated for a moment, words Ominis didn't care to try and hear. Not when he could feel the furious heat coming off her in waves, not when he heard the same scathingly biting tone she used on him that night outside the Undercroft now directed at Sebastian as she tore him a new one for even suggesting Ominis cast the spell.
Celia cleared her throat, huffing haughtily. "You know how to cast it, don't you Sebastian."
It had not been a question, even if worded like one. The growing tension threatened to snap at the tiniest of moves, the silence a sharp piercing ring that Ominis wished would deafen him to the next words he feared would come from her lips, or from Sebastian's. He swallowed, the pit in his stomach threatening to swallow him whole. He really didn't like where this was going…
"Then cast it on me and be done with it." She hissed.
"I don't think you understand what you're asking me to do." Sebastian snarked, running a hand through his curls. "I'll teach you the spell, then you can cast it on me. I can take the pa-"
"Listen," She said sharply, coughing. "I don't have the spell casting experience nor the want to learn spells like this, just cast it on me and be done with it. I can take pain, Sebastian."
Sebastian huffed, whatever comment he was going to say died on his tongue when Celia placed a gentle hand on his forearm. She squeezed it, not to hurt. Waiting until dark eyes met hers, and she smiled. Throwing her arms around his middle, she hugged him tightly. Waiting until his own begrudgingly fell around her to hug her close. Her eyes stung, the wonder of if this was what it was like to have a brother making water form in her eyes. She cleared her throat, shoving the thoughts away and blinking back the tears that formed. She's not cried in years, she won't start now.
"For Anne," She said.
Sebastian sighed, voice defeated. "For Anne."
Ominis knew the moment she said those two little words, Sebastian was snapped back into the reason for why they were here. His logic, his reasoning, everything that hadn't been committed to helping his sister fell out one of his ears as her words rammed through the other. Ominis braced himself for what he was about to hear, wishing he could cover his ears and pretend this was all a dream. Sebastian swallowed thickly, a low spoken apology on his tongue that Celia brushed off like dust on her shoulder. If the room had been tense before, it was suffocating now. Quiet except for the deep breaths Sebastian heaved, quiet except for the now borderline incessant rattle shaking in her chest. She swallowed, and he heard it grow worse. 
"Crucio!"
For a moment, everything was still, entirely too quiet as the magic danced over her skin like red lightning. Celia blinked, meeting Sebastian's eyes for a moment before she felt it. The tingle, the itch, the final inkling that something was coming. Only for everything to blend together in a mesh of light and darkness, colors becoming a gray tinted red as pain like never before broke through the dam. 
She wouldn't scream, not with Ominis standing but feet away. He made it clear those screams were unforgettable and she refused to add her own to that list. The world fell away beneath her feet, the solid stone flooring coming far too close to her face as she squeezed her eyes shut. Teeth digging into her lip as copper coated her tongue. 
She couldn't scream now, not even if she wanted to. Her mind racing as her heart pounded in her chest to get out, her fingers clawed at her shirt, at her tie. She needed to get it out, out, out, out- No! Hands gripped hers in a vice grip, pinning tem flat to her chest as arms curled about her waist and she was moving and Good God, Merlin, please stop it-!
It's not real! The pain is fake, an illusion conceived by her own mind! Her logic failed, falling on her own deaf ears as the pain continued to get stronger on her skin. Feeling entirely too much like when she used the ancient magic she was blessed with. Her skin too tight, her body too small for her insides. Her veins and blood vessels were the wrong size, the wrong shape and she needed to get it out of her! Get it out of her chest before it makes her burst!
But Celia couldn't move her arms, couldn't do more than clench her fists until her nails were digging into her palms until one of her hands was snatched and- No! Please! Don't make her move, don't make her move. Moving was bad, bad, bad. She couldn't move, couldn't scream, and she wouldn't give him the satisfaction of knowing that it hurt. Not when she could see his hand raising, see specs of blood stain the wine colored shirt worn for lessons. At least she knew now why white was a forbidden color in her wardrobe. 
Every breath burned, every blink stinging and Maker, how she wished to scream. To beg for it to stop, to end. But begging did nothing but show weakness. And no Croft is allowed to show a weakness... 
The world had long since grown dim, the figures around her turning blurry and hazy into one as she braced herself for the pain that would always be followed if she showed even a minute reaction. She already knows she failed the first test by flinching, by curling into herself. Her limbs were weighted, getting heavier and heavier by the second and Celia thanked her lucky stars that the sweet abyss of nothing was coming for her like a weighted blanket. Even if the dark whispers in her ears were barely heard over the piercing ring of silence, even if she couldn't keep her eyes open to see the cruel, dark smile shining in the night...
"Celia!?"
She doesn’t know who called her name, doesn’t have the strength to find out. Not when she knew she'd wake up, back in that shack. Alone, shivering and covered in her own blood with the expectation to care for her own wounds and return home before breakfast. She just... needed... needed to... rest... rest her eyes... for a... for a second....
@helendeath
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sweetiebean00 · 3 days
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lissen
I’m at work and can’t fucking write properly right now!! But idea!! For a Fanfic!!
Sebastian rubbed tired eyes, despite the exhaustion clinging to his form she knew he had been awake. She only prayed he didn’t ask any questions. “What’s-”
“Stop.” She lifted a hand, taking a glance around as she pushed the glasses up her nose. “I will answer every and any question you’ve been wanting to ask since you viewed the pensieve with me in the restricted section.”
He frowned, arms crossing. “What’s the catch?”
“You have to not follow what you’re reading of Salazar’s book.”
He opened his mouth, to protest, her mind whispered and the words she didn’t want to say came spilling from her tongue.
“I know it promises a dark relic to remove the affects of any dark curses and spells, but using it will cost you both Anne, Solomon, and even Ominis. The sacrifice isn’t worth it, because in the end - you fail.”
“How?”
“Not here, I don’t care about the questions, but not in the open. Like this, please.”
“Undercroft. Five minutes.”
Fuck! This will be written later!!! Ahhhh have a glimpse of the thing in my head
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sweetiebean00 · 4 days
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https://play.google.com/store/apps/details?id=com.infinitycow.eplay
Am... am I to click the link?? It won't let me? Am much confuzzled???
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sweetiebean00 · 8 days
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Of Excuses and Flirtations
@helendeath; I think I tagged you correctly? I hope so lol; this is the fourth installment Of Nifflers and Magic - please enjoy!! Should state that this was not supposed to happen, I didn't plan this. At all lol, but apparently I really want to make MC suffer lol - this was also meant to be a slow burn but apparently I can't do that either lol WARNING: This will imply abuse; this will imply some things that are angsty. Physical and mental abuse, maybe some emotional are implied and hinted at! Please Be Careful!!
Ominis hasn't know Celia Clyde very long, not as long as Sebastian, as Anne. Not as long as he's known his classmates, Amit Thakkar, or Samantha Dale. Not even as long as he's known of Natsai Onai, the witch who often battled against and with Sebastian in Crossed Wands. Whilst he hasn't known her long, mayhaps only a handful of days has he gotten to properly be in her company and converse with her whilst they were working on her transfiguration. If not other things when he deemed them done for the day in lessons, there are some things he's learned to be true. No matter what the common rabble had been gossiping about since the term started and she captured any attention that she hadn't already had by starting Hogwarts as a fifth-year.
The first thing he learned the hard way. Celia is as protective as she is loyal. The night of the Undercroft had yet to fade from memory. The acidic bite she spoke to him, the venom that hid itself in her monotone as she defended Sebastian against Ominis' anger. Having conversed with her, observed the interactions she and her friends had when he had found himself invited amongst the noise. Ominis is more than sure that she had been intentionally provoking him that night.
She had succeeded too. Diverted his attention to her, to nothing but her. She had the entirety of his ire for the few minutes he had spent in that hall with her. It was a sweet albeit a foolish way to protect Sebastian, who was in no real harm from Ominis. It had made his heart pound, made it ache and twisted a dagger made of agony when she had spoken against him about his oldest and best friend. As if Ominis was the same as the rest of his family; that he wouldn't hesitate to curse his friends and family with a smile. The thought disgusted him, fueled his anger and made his hackles raise. He had written her off then, another face believing the stories that he was just another Gaunt.
Now, his heart ached in his chest for another reason. He feels foolish, letting his own insecurities hide her true motives. If he had seen her actions for what they were, he could've... he doesn't know what. But he wouldn't have given her an empty threat, wouldn't have called her trouble and implied she was a bad influence on Sebastian. A bad friend. He recognizes that move, knows it almost as well as he knows the healing spells.
Redirection. 
The art of changing someone's attention elsewhere, often causing someone to switch targets. Memories flooded to the forefront of his mind, of tales of Feldcroft. Of Sebastian recounting memories of when he and Anne were younger, when his uncle had first taken them in. When his sister would cause trouble, have a problem of some sort that was a surefire way to raise the anger that was hidden inside his uncle's chest. 
Sebastian stepped up, continuously without fail. Claim the trouble, the problem as his own and earned himself a quick way title to being spoken about by his uncle as a “troublemaker”. A child bound to do nothing but trouble. On the path to a cell in Azkaban with his name on it. Why? If you asked Soloman, it was because Sebastian was his "father's son". Anne, sweet Anne, took after their mother. A golden child, a little darling who didn't belong in Slytherin.
Redirection. 
Often, used to protect someone from being physically harmed in some way, shape, or form. And it made Ominis wonder, made him worry on why Celia has that instinct ingrained into her. What made her take harm for others? If she had truly taken the fall for things to save others? And to save them from what? Or better yet, from whom?
The idea of Celia taking any number of punishments of any sort for others left a sour, bitter taste swelling on his tongue. Had his chest tightening as heat surged through his veins, igniting his blood in a way he hadn't felt since Anne was cursed and Sebastian was too worried. Too far wound like a spring about to break, that he never paid it a second thought of why the books in the Restricted Section were restricted in the first place.
Which leads to the second thing he's noticed about Celia. She is helpful, selfless, unfathomably kind to everyone and every person she's ever encountered to his knowledge. And yet... Celia Clyde is sacrificial. 
She was a martyr dancing about the castle, sacrificing her time, her energy, and even her own well being for others. He can understand helping, most of the locals offered the occasional odd to any of the students that happened to be in the area. Offering them galleons for their assistance in whatever trivial or dangerous -as Ominis was learning, task.
Ominis is more than willing and has on more than a few occasions, sat and listened to her for hours. Listened as she spoke of lending a hand to the poor widow in Upper Hogsfield, her melodic voice soothing the sharp edges inside his soul. Rolling over him like warm water, gentle and caressing the scars lingering along his frame. He sat there, pinching the bridge of his nose as she shared the story of how she helped Nora Treadwill when she was hounded by ashwinders. As she shared the tales of helping Arn get his carts back from Ranrok’s loyalists. 
He hadn't needed eyes to know how haggard she was, the exhaustion seeping in her voice making him frown and something inside him tighten. Carefully, Ominis had stretched his hand along the table until he found hers. Flexed and pressed tightly against the wood. Keeping his touch featherlight, he covered hers with his own. Wrapping his fingers along the flat of her palm to ease the tension as his thumb ran soothingly over the dips of her knuckles. He hadn't moved aside from that, continuing to guide his dictation quill along the parchment. If he noticed that night the way her shoulders relaxed, the way she released a breath of relief when his very presence strongly discouraged any from approaching if they didn't have a death wish; he said nothing. 
The twitch of his lips was merely an itch, after all.
Ominis hears the cracks in her chipper display as she walks amongst the castle grounds. The way he could feel how tightly her muscles were coiled by walking beside her as she speaks in a voice far too high and so sickeningly sweet, she might as well have sugar oozing from her lips and dripping down her chin. He notices when she starts to avoid the halls overflowing with students, when she starts to take the long way to class if she is walking alone. Noticed the way students have taken to seeking out the newest fifth-year to ask for her help. No. That would imply they were giving her the choice, that they wouldn't guilt trip or try and taint her reputation depending on her answer. They didn't ask her. They only ever demanded.
He worries. 
Worries when Celia's silent for too long, worries when he can't find her. Feels the pang in his chest when she's absent for far too long, her hideaways empty and vacant with nothing but the lingering smell of that sweet and earthy fragrance. Each time he wonders if she bit off more than she could chew this time, if he should've followed her. Should've stuck to her side like someone had casted a sticky charm on them both. He ignores Sebastian's teasing, ignores the way he comments on how "fond" Ominis was becoming of the Hufflepuff, and makes a crude gesture that would have his mother cursing him and has his friend laughing as Ominis snarks at him.
Then Celia's there. Closer, closer, and closer until she's next to him and he gets a whiff of that same smell mixed with something woodsy, something ancient and old that reminds him of the library. He can hear the smile in her voice. Can hear the utter joy as she calls his name and settles herself beside him. It's not the false cheer from when he found her bleeding in the Room of Requirements, it's the genuine happiness she reserved for him; for her friends. Only it's mingled with the soft kind like when she talks about her friend, Adelaide. It's the quiet kind of happiness she projects when Amit is paired with her for Astronomy and is rambling about the stars as she listens. Only to admit later when pressed she has no idea what he saw or talked about, only that she enjoyed learning stories of magical things and that while she may not understand it. She could enjoy it all the same.
"Wait-no!"
Omins could hear Celia scrambling, his brows furrowing as she chased the goblet about the room. He's not quite sure how she managed to turn it partially into two different types of animals, considering the task today was to turn the cup into a plate. The soft flapping of wings mixed with the twitching of what he could only guess were rabbit ears as her feet padded quickly around the Undercroft. He flicked his wand, freezing the item in place as she huffed for a breath.
The soft sound of her squeak turned squeal followed by a thud as she no doubt caught it in the air, only to trip on her own two feet. Her hand smacked into stone, and he shook his head. Lips twitching as she softly crossed the room to be by his side once more, it should not be endearing for her to be this bad at something. Her little noises and constantly shifting nature with her nerves should be far from adorable.
Ominis pinched the bridge of his nose, shoving those thoughts away. The stench of Gobstone juice had faded much since the last time he had been in the Undercroft for this long, but there was no getting that stink out of the room. Not with how often he, Anne, and Sebastian played it. It was thankfully being overpowered by the smokey smell of fire blending together with the scent of something woodsy, sweet, and old. 
He sighed, making a mental note to check on Sebastian later that day as he turned the material over inside his head. Reviewing everything they had gone over involving transfiguration, from the lessons and pronunciations to the thought behind the spell, the intention of each cast. Maybe that was it, maybe he hadn't worded it correctly. Already the words were rearranging themselves inside his mind, the letters forming on his tongue as he opened his mouth to try another approach.
"I'm sorry for wasting your time, Omins."
"Excuse me?"
His head snapped in her direction, something bitter settling in his mouth as he frowned. He doesn't need eyes to see the look upon her face. She has spoken just barely above a whisper, spoken so faint he almost thought he hadn't heard her right. Keyword being almost. His hearing was one of his sharpest senses, and he hadn't once doubted it. Ominis had no intentions to start now. With a deep breath, he offered a silent prayer to whatever divine being was listening. He didn't want to believe the shake of her voice, the broken mutter that sounded so... defeated. He had to mishear her, she was still breathing hard. Probably just trying to catch her breath, there was no way she could possibly be thinking... Ominis couldn't bring himself to say it. even in his mind. Couldn’t even bear the thought if it were true.
"'Waste my time?'" He echoed the words, hoping against hope that she would laugh that soft laugh of hers. Shake her head so hard her braid smacked against her back, that she would correct him with a lighthearted tease.
"Don't worry about it, I understand I-" Celia cleared her throat, the false cheer sounded hollow to his ear. The high notes grated on his ears as she swallowed thickly. "I apologize for-for not listening better, for being a waste of your time, and an inconvenience. I will see this as the lesson it is and use it to make myself worthy of your help."
Ominis couldn't do it, he couldn't stand the quiver in her voice that faded into nothing. That faded into those cheery high notes that put a curtain in front of her feelings, that buried them beneath something just shy of a monotone and something so sickly sweet and fake his stomach turned with nausea. This is not the Celia he's been getting to know more and more every day. This is not the girl who made a scene so grand she was on the lips of every student and teacher in Hogwarts. It is not the girl who tried to play brave as she bled onto her own floor to soothe his own aches. 
This is not Celia and those are not thoughts he will allow her to think true for another second. A waste of his time? If there was anything in this world that was a waste of his time, it most certainly is not her. It will never be her.
“Stop talking.” 
He didn't like the way she immediately went silent, the way she obeyed without second thought. Something dark, something twisted curled inside his chest and before he knew it, Ominis was marching across the Undercroft. With each step closer, he could hear her shaky barely there breaths. Her own feet were near silent on the stone floor, but not nearly enough for him not to pick up the sound of her retreating. For every move back, he took two forward. Long legs closing the distance between them as he shoved the thoughts of what he would do if his sneaky suspicions were proven true. This is nothing like the Celia Sebastian had forced him to hear about for weeks on end, the one Ominis had teased him about.
"You. Are. Never. A. Waste. Of. Time." Ominis all but growled, his tone offering no room for arguments as he closed her in against one of the stone pillars. He heard her back press against her, heard her breath catch as he swallowed. "You are most certainly no waste of my time."
Ominis slammed one of his palms against the pillar, trying to reign his own thoughts in as he pressed closer until there remained only an inch between them. He could feel her warmth through his button-up, could feel the ghost of her curves against him and he forced himself to focus as he grazed his knuckles along her cheek. Thumb and forefinger finding her chin and tilting it up until she was looking at his face.
"Do I make myself clear."
It wasn't a question, and Celia kept her council silent as Ominis took a deep breath. He could feel her eyes burning into him, as if staring straight through him as that sweet woodsy aroma took on a slight spice like a candle. His fingers grazed her pulse, feeling the hammering of her heart in her chest as they stood there. His nose gently ghosted along hers, and when he spoke, she shivered. 
“I will say this as many times as you need it heard, but you are never nor will you ever - be a waste of my time.” 
It was his turn to swallow thickly, the spice in her scent growing thicker. Between her warmth, the softness of her skin beneath his, the way he seemed to tower over her, and the rapid flutter of her heart had his senses going haywire. She was everywhere and it took him a moment to regain his purpose, to remember why he was doing this in the first place. 
"You are a Merlin damned gift, a breath of something real. You are not an inconvenience; you are not a waste of time. Especially not to me. I enjoy every fucking second of the time I get to spend with you, and when I find out what -or who, filled your head with such deluded thoughts - they won't find enough of them to bury." 
"You-you can't say things like that." She muttered, her cheeks burning as he gently caressed her cheek with the back of his hand. 
"Promise if you ever find yourself thinking such thoughts, feeling such things, you'll find me." Ominis pleaded, softly pressing his forehead against hers. "Someone, at the very least, please Celia. Don't suffer in the silence when you have those around you to help."
Her breath was warm on his lips, heat burning at his own cheeks. In a moment, he became all too aware of her. Her hands were gently splayed across his chest, small fingers curling in the fabric of button-up. When they had gotten there, he didn't know. His heart racing in his chest as her nose dragged along his featherlight, he could feel the soft strands of her hair against his forearm. He had forgotten he had rolled up his sleeves upon entering the Undercroft, the heat from the fire spells Sebastian often practiced inside keeping the room toasty for hours on end. The tension in his shoulders fell away when she spoke, the tightness in his chest relaxing.
"I promise, Ominis."
He smiled, resting his eyes as he felt her lashes flutter against his nose. He didn’t move, didn’t want to. Too busy soaking his senses in everything that was Celia Clyde. More things to add to his ever growing list about her, she was always warm. Her scent was intoxicating, and he could get addicted to the way her hands laid against his chest. Just a few more moments like this wouldn’t hurt…
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sweetiebean00 · 8 days
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sweetiebean00 · 11 days
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Of Healing Ways
Clara = Claudia = Celia = Same person, I'm just a very indecisive person lol. Should state their like 16ish? Like, I picture them mentally in mind as Juniors in this fic, ngl to ya'll lol I guess this is Part 3 of Nifflers and Magic
In the week since the events that transpired in the Room of Requirements, in the week since Ominis began tutoring Celia in transfiguration she hadn't been late once. She's punctual, always on time if not early. Often, he's been finding himself walking her to their designated spot for the day after their shared classes have ended. Has been hearing her whirlwind thoughts on the classes, on professors and classmates, on transfiguration itself, and bantering with her as they traversed the castle halls.
It was a new normal that he was finding himself getting used to far too quickly. Shoving that thought aside, he frowned as yet again his search for his friend came up empty. She wasn't in the library, the Undercroft, or the Room of Requirements. Sebastian's oddly cryptic suggestion of checking to see if Fig was in his classroom was fruitless, as the older professor was in fact teaching a class. Why her disappearance would have anything to do with the Magic Theory professor, Ominis wasn't sure, but Sebastian was keeping rather tight lipped about something of late. Something Ominis would find out later, when he wasn't on the search for a missing person.
Poppy Sweeting's suggestion of checking the pens around the classroom for Magical Creatures was just as useless, as the animals were there and she was not. Did give him the chance to ask Imelda at the Quidditch Pitch if she'd seen anything, but that was also a resounding no, but led Ominis to Crossed Wands. Where not one person, including Natsai Onai, had seen hide nor hair of her. Although she had suggested the Greenhouse, where she'd seen her last.
Which led him to now, his grip tightening on his wand as he scowled. She was yet again, not there. How could an entire person disappear? He would find out by the end of the day if he found her, and if not, well Sebastian always tried to get him to do things he wouldn't normally. Leaving the castle grounds in search of his new friend certainly wouldn't hurt, if anything she was probably helping someone. Again. Or petting some wild, dangerous creature and trying to feed it without care to her own wellbeing. 
He's heard Sebastian gripping about that once, yet hadn't thought his friend had been serious until he started to spend time with Celia. Merlin's beard, she was harder to find than a ghost. None of which saw her, nor knew who he was talking about. Except for the Fat Friar. Adelaide Oakes had been coming from her common room when she found Ominis and the ghost conversing and shared that Celia had not been inside, nor had she been seen since the day before. Something that apparently made the other Hufflepuffs worry.
Ominis sighed, stepping into the Room of Requirements yet again for the second time that morning.Maybe she was looking for him all this time? Maybe they had miscommunicated about the location and time they were meeting? He hopes not, but with no other idea on where she could possibly be. Ominis was resigned to wait, walking to the lounge that she hadn't moved from the middle of the floor to sit and wait for her in silence.
The Floo Flames crackled to life, as sharp gasp breaking the silence as something slammed into the wall with a thud. Celia's voice was rough, quiet and more of a broken rasp as she muttered words he didn't catch. The sound of something dripping on the floor mingling with the sound of heavy footsteps drowning it out with her pained grunt. Ominis stood from the couch, questions and demands merging into a tornado of thought inside his head when he heard another thud. This time heavier, louder. He felt the vibrations in his feet, and he was moving before he could even speak. 
"Sh-shit, fuck, just-just need-"
Ominis kneeled, the faded image of Celia's crumbled form on the floor making his heart twing in his chest. Gone was his worries of her being, of time. Gone was the worry and mild irritation of a skipped lesson. Replaced by the cold chill of dread ghosting up his fingers, coating his veins in ice. Replaced by the twisting, tugging weight of a stone sinking in his stomach. He swallowed, brows furrowing when the only thing he could hear were her quick breaths and that steady drip-drip-drop.
"You're hurt."
"Om-Ominis!" 
The cheery tone made his teeth clench, the false cheer would’ve had him fooled had he not heard the pain inside it. The shaky edge to her breathing, the near silent wince as she tried to force herself to move. His hand hovered over her shoulder, eager to touch. To stop her from moving if it hurts for Merlin's sake! Yet, unwilling to cause her more pain. She was good at the cheer, if it wasn't for his hearing, for him having been there before she arrived -she probably could've fooled him. Fooled a many of their friends, and he wondered if Sebastian could tell when she wasn't genuine with her cheer. 
"Where are you hurt?"
"H-hurt?" 
She laughed. It was weak. Nothing like the warming sound that was akin to feeling sunlight on his skin after a long day of cold clouds. Nothing like the breath of life was flowing through her entire being. Nothing like when she laughed and snorted, and hugged her stomach. This was hollow, too high and scratchy. It made his ears ache, but all he did was furrow his brow. Was wait in the silence that followed, brows furrowed and eyes narrowed. Lips pursed as he took a breath to reign in the emotions starting to brew in his blood. The ones that demanded he lift her from the floor, he ran his wand and his hand down the length of her being. That he finds her injuries and treats them, that he tips her chin and opens her lips to dump wiggenweld down her throat.
"Don't lie to me." He cut off whatever words she was spewing, uncaring for the lies and deceit that danced off her tongue. 
His hand hovering over her shoulder, ghosted the length of her neck to her cheek. Carefully, he grazed her cheek with his knuckles. Something warming his chest at the stuttered breath against the back of his hand, while worry and fear it was pain yanked on his heart and tightened his chest. Gently, he let his forefinger dance along her jaw, his thumb coming to rest on her chin as he guided her face to look in his direction. To see him. 
"Please, don't lie to me."
"I-"
"Where are you hurt, Celia?"
She swallowed, he felt it in his fingers. "I-I'm not quite sure."
He nodded to her words, flicking his wand to lift her with the levitation charm from the floor. She made a noise, but whatever she had been going for fell off into a pained grunt at the motion. The drip-drip-drop was loud in his ears, every breath followed by an unsteady increase of drips. She was injured, and his mind went blank when realization settled on him like a bucket of ice water. Blood. Blood or water. Please be water, he inhaled. The metallic smell making his stomach sink as he cursed. Blood. She was bleeding all over the floor. Fuck.
Lowering her to one of the lounges, he summoned wiggenweld to his hand. Coming to sit on the coffee table as he offered the potion to her as he summoned cloth and a pot of water. When she didn't grab it of her volition, he leaned forward. Repeating the same gesture as before, knuckles grazing her soft cheek, his thumb running along dry lips to her chin as his finger stretched along the length of her jaw only to curl beneath her chin. He tipped her head back, dumping the healing liquid past her parted lips with the soft command to drink. He felt her swallow against the rest of his hand, nodding as she drained the potion without protest. 
"Good girl," He pulled the vial and his hand away, hearing her breath catch and offering her another vial. "Do you need another one? Can you drink it on your own?"
"N-no, I shou-should be fine."
"Good." With a deep breath, Ominis tried to reign in the emotions once more. His heart was racing, his blood rushing through his entire being as he tried to focus on what to do next as the potion worked its magic. "Is there anything broken? Any deep wounds in need of mending?"
"No, just, some cuts and bruises."
Ominis raised a brow, waiting for her to break from the silence. He could still hear it, smell it. It was strong enough to coat his tongue and he took another calming breath. Shoving away all the burning questions, the thoughts, the worry and fear were playing jump rope with his heart strings and that was as far as he was letting them go. At least for now. It was persistent, a constant that had slowed since he lifted her and set her down. It wasn't quick by any means, but the steady rhythm was enough to be concerning. Either Celia didn't realize how wounded she was, and Ominis was tempted to cast one of the many healing spells he knew and deal with the consequences as they come. Whatever they may be. However, she could be downplaying it. She could have a preferred method of healing the wounds that were no doubt staining a mark into her furniture, and unless her plan is to ignore it and hope the wiggenweld helps eventually…
He would not ever force anything on another. She could also have been cut open and fell into a river, he supposes. Would mingle the smell of blood and water together and she might not even need more healing. Celia sighed, and he waited patiently for her to speak the words that would either sooth his worries or make them twice as large.
"Maybe," She winced, her breath hitching with pain. "Maybe a larger cut or two..."
"Unless you have another, more preferred means of healing yourself that's not downing wiggenweld until it works...?" 
His eyes narrowed, his sentence hanging in the air in open invitation to correct him should he be wrong. Her silence wasn't comforting. He could hear her shifting in her seat, her knees tapping against his with her every pained wince. Keeping his touch featherlight, he squeezed her knee. Keeping it from jerking and causing the both of them some measure or more of pain, he gently drew circles into the side of her leg. He can apologize for his actions later, when he can't hear the steady dripping of her blood and what he was really hoping was water, of the cushions. 
"Celia," He breathed a sigh, head shaking at her barely heard squeak. "We will discuss your lack of self-care later, for now you have two options remaining. We can go to Nurse Blaney-"
"No!" She all but flinched away at the suggestion, if not for his grip on her knee tightening to keep her from moving away. He frowned, the sheer panic in her voice made that rock in his gut tighten into a knot. "Not-not the nurse, please."
"-Or, I can heal you myself." Ominis continued, cutting off her pleading with another squeeze to her knee to ease the muscles that had tensed upon his first suggestion. Something to delve into later. "I know several healing spells, Celia, you would just need to show me where the wound is."
This time the silence was thoughtful; he could practically feel her mind connecting the dots of what he was offering. It had barely lasted a moment, maybe two. Then she was leaning towards him, the sound of her moving was all he could hear until the sound of her racing heart filled his ears. She swallowed, cold, shaking fingers gently ran along the knuckles of the hand still on her knee.
"You-you can heal?" 
He didn't trust his voice, not with the way her touch was ghosting along his hand. Not with the trails of warmth left in their wake. Not with the lowered, softer notes of her words dancing to the beat of her heart like it was a drum. 
"Can- If you are okay with it, can you heal me? Please?"
Slowly, he caught her small hand in his. Squeezing it gently with a soft-spoken, "I wouldn't have offered if I hadn't meant it, dove."
"Please Ominis." A chill danced down his spine, and it took every inch of his willpower to not shudder. "Please heal me, please don't make me see Nurse Blaney."
"You will have to guide my wand, to show me where you're hurt." 
Releasing her hand should not have been as hard as it was. He should've uncurled his fingers, released her palm and grabbed his wand from the table beside him. Instead, he found himself squeezing hers, and she most definitely should not have squeezed his back. 
"You can't hide an inch or the spell won't be as effective, do you understand Celia?"
"I understand Ominis,” She sighed shakily. “I-how do you want me?"
"Not bleeding that's for sure." 
Her laugh was light, genuine and soft. Short and sweet. He found himself smiling as he finally let her hand go. Ignoring the way his palm tingled with cold, the sudden ache of missing something important. Of losing something. He ignored it. 
"Lay back for me, dove."
She winced, but didn't once complain. He waited until the sound of fabric shifting had stopped, when the sound of her beating heart and short breaths had moved further to his left then in front of him. Ominis had just lifted his wand from the table, grip flexing on the handle when a pained gasp broke from her chest. He froze, waiting patiently for her to settle herself only to feel a weight on the tip of his wand. He waited, hearing her breathing grow haggard as the wand lowered, lowered, until it stopped. The sound of blood trickling was louder there, and he didn't need her to waste energy speaking when he could smell the potency.
"The-there, it goes from there down then-then curls inwards halfway down my side onto my stomach."
Ominis didn't respond, instead letting the incantation flow off his tongue. A cool warmth bubbled in his chest, the soothing magic washing over him like a balm. He heard her gasp, but didn't stop. Trailing his wand down the wound she had described and back. He has felt this spell wash over his own skin several occasions, there was always a sharp sting at first. Akin to stepping into a hot bath after having your feet buried in nothing but snow for hours. Then it was soft and soothing, as if all that was in the world was good. Like there was no bad, no darkness, no evil.
It was peace, it was light, it was the beauty that made him long since fall in love with the healing arts. It was like the first breath of spring after a harsh winter, or the first snowfall. He smiled as her breathing eased, the smell of blood fading from his nostrils as he continued to chant over her. Continued to drag his wand down her side, up halfway into a curl over her stomach. It wouldn't heal the scar unless it was an immediate cast, but it would return her missing blood. It would stitch and seal the wound and leave her floating and light. At least that was how he felt, then again, he almost always passed out shortly after healing himself the nights he spent at the Gaunt Manor.
Celia was quiet, her breathing long since gone steady. Good, she needed the rest. At least that confirms he's not the only one to drop off the edge of consciousness after healing from that spell. The lack of dripping was both a weight slipping from his shoulders and a tightening of the ever-twisting knot in his stomach. It wasn't water, he can no longer try and pretend to think optimistic. It was blood, her blood, the blood he had just restored to her but still. It was her blood staining her furniture, her blood on the floor. Her blood probably led a trail into the castle or to whatever floo flame she had used to get to the Room of Requirements.
He breathed a sigh, thankful the metallic smell had started to fade. Overwhelmed by the sweet smell of something woodsy, earthy, of something soft and sweet, warm. Like fresh fruit, or maybe flowers. Sweeping his wand over her, he focused on the images forming in his mind. Seeking any more injuries that could have been lost in the trouble of the wound he had just healed. 
He ignored the thoughts bubbling in the back of his mind that wanted to find the bastard responsible, to treat them with the treatment they dished out to Celia. And to others, of course. The thoughts that whispered that he could give them much worse than a diffendo to the side.
Relieved at the lack of visible injuries, Ominis released the breath he had been holding. He had letters to write, his search had probably sent their friends into a fit of worry. Standing, he shifted his grip on his wand, only for a hand to weakly grasp his. He paused; her hand was still cold. Colder than natural, but just as chilling as the last time he held it. She was shaking, not as bad, but enough to make him furrow his brow in concern.
"Stay?" If not for his sharp ears, he doubted he'd have heard her. "Please? Just... just a little longer?"
He smiled, turning his hand over in hers and gently running his thumb along the back of her knuckles. A request like that? How could he refuse? Slowly, he lowered himself to the table. Sitting down once more as she shifted amongst the cushions. His wand lay forgotten by his side as he held her hand. If she needed someone to stand watch while she rested, he would stand. If she needed a hand to hold, he would offer it. Mayhaps later, he would dissect the need inside his chest to do and be what she needed. Then again, she had managed to worm her way into the protected heart of Sebastian Sallow. The boy so-determined to help Anne he locked himself away behind walls of mischief and masks. Maybe Ominis shouldn't be so surprised.
"I'll stay as long as you need, my dove."
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sweetiebean00 · 11 days
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Thank you to everyone who got me to 50 likes!
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sweetiebean00 · 11 days
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lissen
feel like should apologize to anyone who has read my works so far in the Hogwarts legacy fandom… I don’t typically write and post anything I write (because I’m a procrastinator from hell) and if you are by chance getting like spammed in notifications from me… I apologize I just was using temporary names for the MC I made lol, I promise Celia is the last change lol
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If you’re on ao3 and found me through that, also sorry for the updates I know you fuckers get notifications lol promise last update lol
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sweetiebean00 · 12 days
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bring back tumblr ask culture let me. bother you with questions and statements
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sweetiebean00 · 13 days
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Of Dueling Debates
This is a lil fluffy continuation of Of Nifflers and Magic, just a bit of Ominis roasting his best buddy with MC lol
Celia dug her teeth into her bottom lip, fighting to keep the laughter from bubbling out of her chest. A snicker escaped when she chanced a glance at Sebastian's face, his cheeks reddened as he leaned back on his hands and sulked from another of Ominis' sharp remarks. Hiding her face in one of the tombs gathered about them, she bit her lip harder at the look of betrayal Sebastian sent her way. She didn't know how long Sebastian was trying to argue his reasoning, to explain the logic behind teaching her transfiguration magic through dueling. 
"In my defense-" Sebastian tried again, speaking loudly over Ominis' dry commentary. "It worked didn't it?"
"If by worked, you mean you worked yourself into being transfigured twice..." Ominis raised an unamused brow, his voice thick with sarcasm as Celia snickered. "Then yes, it certainly worked... to prove you should never teach anyone again."
Of all the ways to teach something, Celia had to agree with Ominis. It was not one of Sebastian's greater ideas, although she had hoped he would have a better idea when it came to trying to drown himself in her potions. Godric's heart, she almost forgot. She still had to brew some wiggenweld, and at the very least see if she can salvage the ones Sebastian swam in.
"Excuse you!" Sebastian cried indignantly. "I'm an excellent teacher!"
"At curses, maybe."
Celia snorted, stepping through the mess of parchment and books. She had intended to study before Sebastian had found her on the way up the Astronomy tower, their impromptu study session interrupted when he saw how utterly useless she was with transfiguration magic. Still, she had to wonder. He watched her fail at turning a goblet into an animal, yet decided the best idea was to duel her into a corner where she turned him into an animal.
"Actually," Celia spoke up, flicking her wand to clear out the potions inside the cauldron. It's not that she didn't trust Sebastian with her potions, more that she didn't trust where he had been. Besides, he had been covered in fur and she really didn't need to gag on a health potion when she used it. "It was more like, five times?"
Refilling the pot, she let the water simmer. Grinding the materials together like Professor Sharp reiterated on the daily. An even, smooth motion. No irregularities. She loved making potions, the easy rhythm. The requirement of enough attention to not butcher the potion, but not too much to be able to think as she followed the recipe step by step. She could almost imagine Sebastian teasing her for still using the recipe, she just preferred accuracy over memory. Better safe than sorry, Sicilian always said. 
"What."
Celia jumped, the sharp tone nearly sending her elbow into the bottle of horklump juice. With the amount of health potions she went through on a daily basis, she couldn't afford to waste even a drop of wiggenweld. Especially with her stash having been gone through in the last week, between the poachers, ashwinders, bandits, and spiders. She needed to make the most of everything she had.
"If you're counting the first time -when he was turned into a chicken, the times I tried turning him back before and after I got you?" As she spoke, she glanced over her shoulder. Letting the cauldron simmer and tugging her braid into a bun, as Sebastian shook his head furiously. "Then it was closer to five times, maybe six?"
Sebastian grimaced, sending Ominis a sheepish grin as his hands raised in defense against his best friend's scowl. Ominis huffed, pinching the bridge of his nose. She shook her head, it wasn't like it was a secret. She had admitted to trying to turn him back on her own before she sought out the help of Ominis. Although, now that she's thinking about it...
"Does the time he was turned into a barrel count?" 
Celia’s question was answered with silence. With a frown, she looked to find Sebastian sending her another look of absolute betrayal. Ominis had his face in his hand, if it weren't for the near silence she was sure she wouldn't have been able to tell he was muttering under his breath. Sebastian huffed, running a hand through his curls as she turned back to her cauldron. Holding her breath as she added a pinch of dittany.
"You know what, Sebastian?" 
Ominis broke the silence, and Celia found herself glancing from the corner of her eye as she waited for the snarky comment she knew was coming. 
"You are right, you were successful. Celia, please, be a dear and turn him back into a barrel - I am in some desperate need of peace and quiet."
Celia snorted, shaking the bottle of horklump juice as Sebastian's whine cut through the room. She had just enough dittany and horklump juice for one last batch, maybe a handful of vials if she could stretch it but the potency wouldn't be as strong as a concentrated brew. Adding the drops, she would just have to go gather more when she had the time. She could do with the minimum. She'd just... prefer having more, especially since Ranrok’s loyalists are becoming more of a thorn in her side. She would have had more, had a certain someone not tried to drown himself in them.
"Ya know Ominis," She flashed a sharp smile over her shoulder, a sick sense of delight warming her chest at the way Sebastian paled from where he had frozen mid-argument with Ominis. "You did promise me proper transfiguration lessons, and turning him into a barrel could provide ample practice! Maybe then he'll learn to leave my potions alone."
Sebastian's cry of protest was drowned out by the sound of Ominis laughing. It was cool, as clear and crisp as his speaking tone. And yet... there was a warmth to it that was missing when he spoke in class. It was like stepping out on a hot summer day to feel the cool relief of rain, not the sharp jarring cold that sent you coiling back. But the softer kind, the one you longed for and could smell in the air. She smiled, chancing a glance at the blonde. His head was tipped back, eyes squeezed shut as he laughed from deep inside his belly. 
Her cheeks burned, no one had the right to look like that. Completely unfair to her and the other normal people in a world of magic. The hair on the back of her neck stood and Ceila looked to meet Sebastian’s eyes. He smirked, brows wiggling as he glanced between her and Ominis knowingly. The heat in her cheeks increased and she jerked her attention back to the potion she was supposed to be stirring in a clean and even motion. 
Thankfully the night Ominis had confronted her outside the Undercroft had Sebastian sworn to the utmost secrecy. Not that it’s stopped him, Poppy, and Natty from planning when they can. He still didn’t let her live it down, reminding her of the time he had taken off through the entire castle in search of the sweet Hufflepuff who had just received a threat from someone that left many shaking in their shoes just from a sharp look in their direction. Only he didn’t find her scared, oh no, why would she be scared? No, he just happened to find her cursing Ominis’ “beautiful stupid face!” as she casted confringo after confringo at the dummy the room had set in front of her. 
Releasing a sigh, as she carefully poured the potion into as many of the vials as she could squeeze. She was never more thankful the blonde was blind and couldn't see her interest. Poppy and Natty still hadn't stopped teasing, hadn't stopped trying to "help" by lumping her with the blonde as a partner in the classes they all shared. Sebastian interfering made it so much worse. 
Tucking her potions away, Celia paled. Eyes widening as she took in the sight of the boys gathered about the floor with their school work scattered near and far. Tugging the wand from the bun she had haphazardly thrown it into, she flicked it until a couch was spouting beneath the both of them. Tables collecting their parchment and books and a rug stretched across the center tiles beneath it all.
"Oh my Merlin! I'm so sorry-!" With another flick of her wand, the mess of potions was cleared away before she was shoving it back into her bun. "Forgive me, I didn't even think to-!"
"You know conjuration?!" Celia nodded, ducking her head as Sebastian laughed. "That's amazing! Can you teach me? I want to-"
"Please, there's no need for an apology, dove." Ominis kicked Sebastian beneath the table, earning a pained grunt as Celia dug her teeth into her lip to keep from smiling or Merlin forbid, snickering with the way Sebastian was rubbing at his shin with a pout. "It's not like you intended for us to overstay your welcome after his grand idea of teaching."
"Thought we went over this," Sebastian grumbled. “I'm an excellent teacher, Ominis.”
“Your opinion is not fact, Sebastian.” 
Celia smiled, her heart doing a funny little dance in her chest at the smirk that graced Ominis' lips as Sebastian huffed and crossed his arms. She shook her head at his antics, using her wand to conjure an overly large ottoman. With a huff, Celia flung herself into the soft fabric. Bouncing lightly as she hummed.
 "Yes, because pouting will further your point Sebastian."
The laugh that escaped her chest was bright and full, overpowering any other quips and comebacks they exchanged as she cackled into the ottoman until her stomach hurt.
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sweetiebean00 · 15 days
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Of Nifflers and Magic
"Excuse me? Ominis?"  
Ominis lifted his wand from where it had been skimming the pages of one of his homework assignments. The quill dropped carefully beside the sheet as he tilted his head up to the voice that spoke. It was soft, quiet and rather meek. But not unrecognizable. Breathing in the scent of parchments and ink, he played the notes of the voice over. Coming to a stop to the new fifth year Sebastian had taken under his wing, the last time he spoke to her had been when Ominis found her coming out of the Undercroft. She had spoken quick, sharp even, a protective surge probably welling inside her to save Sebastian from his wrath. She was a Hufflepuff, loyalty was strong in them.
"Yes?"
"I- I am sorry for attempting to lie to you, about the Undercroft, but I had made a promise and am not keen on breaking my word on anything." He blinked, that was not what he was expecting. Before he could speak, she continued on. "I am also sorry for taking so long to come to you and say that properly or formally, however I have also come because I know not who else would be able to help."
"You have Sebastian at your side, could you not ask him?"
It wasn't sharp, it wasn't meant to be rude. The sound of shifting fabric filled the silence, and he got the impression she was shifting on her feet. Sebastian was an excellent wizard, if he hadn't been a Slytherin, Ominis would've had him pegged as a Ravenclaw.
"I- well, I can't." She swallowed, his brows raised but before he could question she was speaking in a rush. Her voice raising in pitch. "I can't ask him this and I can't really explain it, but it is about Sebastian, and well, you are really smart, and I was wondering if you could pretty please help me?"
"Are you wanting to court him?" 
It wouldn’t be the first time one of the many girls in their school had sought out Ominis to help with courting, confessions, and other such things. Unlike Anne who would either scare them off or use them to prank Sebastian, he didn’t help nor hinder them. Merely suggesting they go and talk to him themselves. Even if it always ended the same way, usually with Sebastian enjoying some time with them before one or both of them moved on.
His question earned a snort so loud it earned a very harsh shush from Madam Scribner. Ominis had no doubt the old librarian was scowling and keeping a watchful eye on them in the corner of her precious library. He waited, the silence thick as they waited for the librarian to go back to whatever it was she had been up to originally. Despite the stares he could feel gathered from the other students around them that had chosen to hide away in the library for Merlin knew what reasons.
If Ominis hadn’t known better, he’d think she was intimidated by him. That his reputation, his last name, had scared the socks off her feet. Except, he had felt the strength of her glare that night outside the Undercroft. He hadn’t needed sight to see the ferocious gleam of daggers that she sent his way, that if looks could kill he’d long since been dead. He felt it, the animosity, the protective way she had stepped between him and that damn door to send words so sharp they could’ve cut him to bits to protect his best friend. The bite to her voice, the cold timbre of apathy? He didn’t know her well, but he knew one thing for certain. There was no chance she was scared of him.
"Merlin no, he's just one of my first friends and is very protective. He figures hanging around me helps deter some unwanted peers." She breathed a laugh, before swallowing thickly. "It is about him, but uh, I can't ask him either. And before you think it's part of that… thing -it's not that either."
Ominis released a breath through his nose, his gut twisting the more she rambled. He had never thought the bright, walking ray of wild sunshine to be a nervous rambler. He could hear her fidgeting the longer he went without responding, the soft scruff and tap of her shoes against the hardwood. Her tie tapping against her chest as she no doubt pulled at the collar of her shirt, the soft thud of her braid hitting her back. He wouldn't be getting any answers to explain here, that much was clear. And despite everything, that was still his best friend. This is a... new student surrounded by peers who have already made their friends and grown up together, a person his best friend had taken in under his arm much like Sebastian had done for Ominis with Anne once. Slowly, as her words never once stopped, Ominis had gathered everything. Vanishing it all with a flick of his wand to be summoned later when he had the time to focus on his History of Magic homework.
"I will help, lead the way." Ominis paused, mind racing as a rock sank into his stomach. What... What was her name? Did he ever actually get it? Did he ever actually introduce himself?
She grinned, the rambling cut off with a breath of relief. At least he hoped it of was relief. She seemed to wait until his wand was out, the tip lighting up to help guide him through the castle. The walk was quiet, tense, and he was not expecting her to be quiet the entirety of the walk. How often he hears her voice as he wanders the halls, she was always doing something. Talking with her friends, to the portraits, humming to herself or just making some general noise if she wasn't getting up to something she wasn't. Although he hadn't witnessed her being sneaky as a secondhand person, but to be fair, she stood no chance of hiding from him that night outside the Undercroft. He remembers Sebastian earning a detention with Scribner for sneaking in with the girl, but had always assumed his friend had been his chivalric and self-sacrificing type because she had attracted Peeves attention. Now he was wondering what had really happened that night. 
"I don't believe we ever properly met each other," Ominis said after a moment, hearing her steps stumble as she tripped on her own foot. In the blink of an eye, he had her arm in his hand. Catching her in time to keep her upright. "I'm Ominis, Ominis Gaunt."
"Sebastian talks of you often," She said, her tone lighter. Soft, and he had a feeling she was smiling. "I'm Celia, Celia Clyde."
"Tis a pleasure, now," He breathed a heavy sigh, earning a giggle from his traveling companion as they traversed the stairs. "What exactly has Sebastian gotten himself into this time?"
"Oh! That!" The sound of fabric rustled once more as the silence seemed to stretch. "Well, you see, it's actually rather interesting, but-"
"You're stalling, and rambling again." He snorted at her squeak, "Not that I mind, but I would rather know what I am going to be walking into."
"Yeah that-that's fair." She sighed, her steps slowing beside him as they climbed the last step. "Okay, we were dueling. I had learned a new spell and I'm rather ruddy with... this type of magic, and had been practicing it on barrels and other things. Sebastian however, said the best way to improve was to duel and use it."
Ominis could feel the start of a migraine with the way this was going, because of fucking course that was Sebastian's idea. With his free hand, he pinched the bridge of his nose. Breathing in deeply only to sigh. 
“Of course he did, that idiot, I swear all he thinks about is dueling, finding a cure, and researching.”
She snorted a laugh that sounded more tense than amused, but she got points in his book for trying. 
"Yes well, it was this or he was going to hunt down a couple of students it would be best he didn't hunt down."
"Hunt down?" Ominis reiterated, "Just what would cause such a thing?"
"It's... a long story, for another time." She huffed a breath, tugging on his sleeve as they walked the hall to stop in front of a blank wall. "We dueled, it worked, except now... well, this is where you come in."
The sound of stone crumbling and moving filled the hallway, and he lifted his wand to get a better picture in his mind as the completely blank and empty wall in Hogwarts... turned into a door. He blinked, but then she was walking to the door and pushing it open. The hold on his sleeve guiding him in before the door shut behind him. The Room of Requirements, no wonder she was never found in the Undercroft, Sebastian had been pitchin a fit for weeks now. Claiming Ominis had scared her off, but he wouldn't go there either if he had a sentient room.
"Because we are stuck with this otherwise, and I’d rather not." 
He frowned, about to question what she had been talking about when he heard the highest, squeakist chirp-like grumble in his entire life. He grimaced, it was almost as if someone was trying to strangle or step on a cat. Or a rat was trying to sing, but was wailing instead. The sound pierced his ears, a migraine forming behind his eyes.
"Sebastian!" At the sound of her voice, it went silent. Only for furious chirping and grumbling to respond, "You put that down right now! You are not dying! Ominis is here to help-!"
More chirping.
"Is Sebastian-?"
"A niffler?" Celia huffed, the sound of struggle growing louder before she was stomping about the room. "Yes. I'm rather shite at transfiguration magic, and he wanted to try- ow! You don't need a wiggenweld!"
"So let me see if I understand correctly." Ominis pointed his wand at Sebastian, the image in his mind showing the silhouette of Celia’s short figure snatching Sebastian out of her potion's cauldron. "You've transfigured Sebastian into a niffler. And... can't turn him back?"
Furious chirping was followed by a heavy sigh, "Not particularly, no. I tried but he wouldn't stop chirping and well-"
She was interrupted by yet more chirping as the sound of water splashing made him snort at her long-suffering sigh. Despite the dire situation, he couldn't the grin on his lips. This was one way for Sebastian to actually learn more about dueling, and it did teach him a lesson. Dueling wasn't the answer to every spell-casting related problem. Walking from the doorway, Ominis hummed in thought. While he could transfigure Sebastian back, this was a learning moment for her. What better way to learn than try again?
"Maybe your intent wasn't clear?" She was silent, even Sebastian went silent at the question. Allowing himself to be snatched out of the cauldron once more as she carried him to the center of the room to meet Omnis in the middle. "Here, Sebastian, behave. Celia, set him down and really mean the spell to turn him into his true form. If it doesn't work, I'll take care of him and we can give you proper practice that won't lead to... this."
"You want me... to try again?" 
Ominis nodded, only for the silence to be broken by Sebastian throwing the most dramatic tantrum Ominis had seen of a niffler or Sebastian in general. He was grumbling and chirping up a storm. Ominis rolled his eyes, snatching Sebastian from her careful hands and placing him on the floor. He held him by the scruff of his neck, voice steady and calm.
"Don't move or I will cast arresto momentum and leave you like that for a few more days." Sebastian released an indignant chirp, but when Ominis released him he didn't move. "There, try again."
Celia took a breath and held it, he could practically feel her nerves. He heard the air whooshing around her wand, heard her mutter the words clearly under her breath. Then she was casting, and the last thing he heard was terrified chirping. A moment of silence, then all Ominis could hear was the sound of hair ruffling, and a long, low hum. A very unhappy, low hum.
"Oh no."
"Did you just turn him-"
"-into a puffskein? Yep." She popped the p, and he snorted. Earning a nervous chuckle from her. "Well, at least we know I won the duel since he can't fight back, right?"
Ominis couldn't help it, laughing so hard his stomach hurt as her own giggles joined him in the room of requirement. All the while that low hum remained and Ominis could almost hear Sebastian's cursing, his whines as he begged Ominis to please just help him. For them to stop laughing. With the flick of his wand, Ominis transfigured Sebastian back into himself. 
"Oh, thank Merlin, I thought I was going to have to live in your vivariums for a moment there!"
Celia laughed harder, and while Ominis wasn't sure what a vivarium was, it did amuse him further. He couldn't hear Sebastian over their laughter, but when his loud and boisterous laugh joined in. Ominis felt peace, felt ease for the first time since Anne got cursed and Sebastian started looking for a cure on his own. Mayhaps, the new fifth year wasn't walking trouble like he had thought.
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sweetiebean00 · 2 months
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(than you @ao3commentoftheday for their masterpiece of a fic blurb)
Simple skin that adds a border and alternates background colors for tags
More than a few people found the border around the tags I’ve done in my dyslexia skin easier to read (especially a few peeps said it helped with their adhd) and it’s easy to extrapolate it from the original code (I’ve clearly labeled where it starts and where it ends so you can go and copy/paste just that part) but I’ve decided to go one step further:
I’ve made a quick skin that adds a border and alternates 3 colors for the relationship tags, 3 colors for the character tags and 3 colors for the additional tags. To make them as separate as they can.
I went for subtle shades of the same color but you can choose every color you want for every category of tags.
Here for the instructions and the code
If you are a dark mode/reversi aficionado you have to change the colors because the one I chose really do not read well with a white font. (I explain how to change the colors in the link too)
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sweetiebean00 · 7 months
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Zodiacs
Okay okay, so first post here and I was just thinking and have been... about the zodiacs and like, basing this on the interwebs... First thing to post and read hope whoever stumbles upon this enjoys but like here we goooooessss.....
The breeze sent goosebumps dancing along his skin, the cold refreshing against his heated muscles. His knuckles throbbed, the wipes Ari had loaned him doing little to get the blood off his hands without a thorough scrubbing. Leo couldn’t help the twisted curl of his lips, the rush of his blood through his veins cooling as the music from the club finally broke through the dimming roar in his ears. He wouldn’t have it any other way, punching his way to victory five days of the week from nine-five with a damn good pay for his wins. He didn’t know if that changed with a loss, in all honesty, he’s never lost a fight. 
He didn’t want to find out either.
“You look like you could use a hand.”
From the shadows, the cool tone was smoother than silk. Leo glanced up from his hands, golden eyes narrowing in the darkness the small lamp hanging above his head didn’t reach. The sound of shoes clicking against stone almost sounded like heels, but he shook that thought away. This was an employee only exit, and no one wore heels to work. A safety precaution with all the partiers, the wild dancers. Alcohol did not give grace.
“I have two, already.” Leo smirked, flashing his bloodied hands to the darkness. “Although, if you’re offering a hand~”
A snort sounded closer, olive tan hands reaching from the shadows to gently pry the wipes from his callused grip. His eyes tracing up the slim hands that softly smacked the back of his when he tried to help, over tattoos that circled over the left forearm up under a rolled up sleeve. Leo’s breath hitched at the light pink pouty lips, the narrowed nose until he caught the vibrant blue irises under dark lashes. Amusement made her eyes brighten, brow arching at his gaze as she switched hands.
“See something you like, Leo?”
“How-?” Leo licked his lips, willing away the blush threatening to burn his cheeks at the teasing purr her voice dropped to. “How’d you know-”
She snorted again, dainty hand running through short dark locks. “I’d have to live under a rock to not know who you are, Leo the Lion. Unmatched in the ring, known for the mane of gold and the devilish smirk said to bring women to their knees.”
“It’s always nice to meet a fan.” Leo teased, winking when she blinked up at him. “Unfortunately, I don’t have time for autographs, but if you give me your number-”
“Fat chance, kitty-cat.” She cut off, stuffing the bloodied wipes back into the package. “Besides, who said I was a fan?”
“You just-”
“No.” She stood, knees popping as she wiped her hands off on her black coat. Leo swallowed at the sight of her bare stomach, the black material sealed just under her bust if he had to guess. “I said I’d have to be living under a rock, not that I was a fan.”
“C’mon sweetheart, you know you like me.” Leo mused, watching as she rolled her eyes. 
“Nasty rumors, don’t let ‘em get around.” She snarked, turning to walk right back into the shadows. “Good night, kitty-cat.”
“Wait!”
Leo’s hand caught around her wrist, her entire being stiffening in his grasp. Glancing over her shoulder, he resisted the urge to shiver against the threat in her eyes. Hair raising off the back of his neck at the rising danger. Maybe he was high on the adrenaline still, maybe it was the risk dangling in front of him. Either way, Leo ignored the twisting of his gut. Standing to his full height and taking small joy in the height difference.
“What’s your name?”
She blinked at him, once. Twice. Her hand slipped from his grasp as if he had never held it, her voice that same cool notes from before as a single corner of her lips twitched.
“Why should I tell you?”
“Kinda unfair there babe,” Leo said, crosssing his arms. “You know about me, but I can’t know about you?”
“I’m no one’s babe, lion cub.” She retorted, waving over her shoulder as she continued to walk away. “If you find me again, I’ll tell ya.”
Leo couldn’t help himself, his eyes dropping as she got further and further away. Lucky for him, cats can see in the dark.
“Leo! Where the hell are you?!” 
He didn’t turn to look, not when Vi called his name another dozen times. Not even when the door wrenched open, the hinges screaming. Not when her footsteps pounded on the ground, or when she shoved at his back. It wasn’t until she yanked on him, her eyes blazing as he finally turned to her. 
“You have a match in ten minutes!” She hissed, crossing her arms over her chest. “This is the big one, you can’t fucking lose, got it!? No-shows means forfeit, being late is a penalty!”
“Cool your tits, V.” Leo rolled his eyes, walking past her and up the few steps. Her groan of frustration bringing a smile to his lips. “ I was just cleaning up, ask Ari if you don’t believe me.”
“How many times have I told you to stay away from her?!” Vi demanded, “She’s a distraction, Leo!” 
“Ease off, she’s nice.”
“Only because you both share the same element.”
“Oh don’t even bring up that bullshit, for crying out loud. She doesn’t have anything against you.”
Vi didn’t give him a response, huffing as she pushed at his back towards the basement.
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