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hollowwrites · 2 months

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Blindsided

Part 16

Ominis x MC

Summary - Sebastian finally makes some headway with the next Tri Wizard Trial...much to Ominis' chagrin.

I just wanted to dump this cause next chapter will be spicy and that'll already be long enough without this tacked on at the front...

Warnings - Mild Spice (Omi reminiscing about last chapter) Sickeningly Sweet to Angst, Plot Dump

Word Count - 3044

Saccharine

That was the only suitable word for them now.

The King and his Queen of Slytherin reduced to a puddle of sickening sweet syrup.

Honeydukes would soon start selling Gaunt/Hollow fudge if they kept up this ludicrous behaviour.

Since that night in the Undercroft, the once stoic couple from Slytherin went from gallantly traversing the hallways with an almost regal edge to…

…to…

Public Displays of Affection

Evelyn couldn’t take more than three steps in any given direction without Ominis gathering her up in his arms, his fingers as well as his arms wrapping possessively around her waist.

She would excuse herself to attend lessons and he would be there, chest pressed into her back, cradled against his tall frame.

“Ominis…” she would giggle, placing her hands on his forearms in an ‘attempt to pry him off her’. But the lack of strength in her shoves and the heat he felt radiating from her was clue enough to Ominis that she actually didn’t care. And she wasn’t even convincing to any outside source, everyone else clearly seeing the instant flush of her cheeks, the almost painfully wide smile on her lips.

“Mmmm” he would hum into her ear, tightening his grip impossibly around her as he brought her closer to his chest.

As her giggles faded to be replaced with content hums, he’d grin, teeth grazing against the shell of her ear.

“What is it, love?” He purred smugly, like someone who knew they were getting away with murder.

“You’re going to make me late to see Imelda” she scolded with absolutely no conviction whatsoever.

“She’ll understand I’m sure” he murmured continuing to step forward, her bunched in his arms and his mouth coming dangerously close to her neck. Her feet lifted from the ground with his embrace, prompting yet another mumbled giggle to tumble from her.

Oh if he could only just scoop her up and carry her off somewhere. Preferably, the nearest secluded corner. That way he could have his way with her in peace.

A low growl, rolled through him thinking of the way she became undone around his fingers. What he wouldn’t do to feel her clench and tighten around him again. Feel her shake and tremble and-

“I will never understand this” The harsh timbre of Imelda’s voice broke him free of his memories, followed by the harsh tapping of her foot against marble. His arm loosened around Evelyn, just a touch. Enough for her once again touch the ground and for them both to maintain some level of decorum. Ominis cleared his throat under his breath, hiding the smirk on his lips by burying his face in her hair.

“If you’re quite done fawning over each other in the middle of Central Hall…”

“Oh…We weren’t-“ Evelyn started, the embarrassment thick in her voice. Ominis just snickered, an involuntary noise that earned him an elbow to the gut.

“Uh huh…” Imelda groaned with a roll of her eyes “…Anyway, this Herbology exam is making my teeth itch so…come on”

With one quick jerk of her head towards the Library, Imelda walked away, leaving Ominis loosely wrapped around a beet red Evelyn.

“I’ll find you later, love” he whispered butting the side of his head against her temple before pressing his lips to her cheek. They tingled as though the flush of her cheeks burned his lips, once again making him chuckle.

“See you then” she turned to him, finally free of his grasp somewhat and kissed his cheek in return. Ominis smiled fondly, producing his wand and tapping it to her nose. The colour of rosy blush filled his senses and he sighed.

“Adorable” he claimed before fully unraveling himself from her and striding confidently away.

When Evelyn found Imelda, she was already hunched over a book, hair ragged and eyes hard. A group of first years hurried quickly away from the far corner after Imelda had occupied the space. Some looked like they wanted to cry.

Ordinarily, Evelyn would scold Imelda for her harsh behaviour, explaining that this is the reason she has such a negative reputation.

But as she approached and Imelda’s head raised from the pages, a look of genuine fear flashed across her dark eyes.

Everyone assumed Imelda was fine, mainly due to the thin line her lips were constantly pulled to, the near permanent scowl adorning her brow and her inability to hide her feelings when they so blatantly made themself known across her face.

But she was struggling as of late.

Exams, Quidditch, Sebastian, Essays, Sebastian in the Tournament, The upcoming dance…

The tipping point lately was her Herbology exam, which just so happened to align itself with the first Quidditch match of the year.

Doesn’t the school know their star Slytherin Captain needed complete focus to play at her best?!

It was a set up.

A crime.

A truly abhorrent crime.

Though, not as criminal as Imelda studying for anything other than Quidditch.

Whilst Evelyn remained stationed next to Imelda she was privy to some of the most abhorrent groans she had ever witnessed. It had only been half an hour and yet the noises she made sounded as though she were being subjected to the Cruciatus Curse. Groaning and huffing every five minutes to such a degree, one could tell the time off her misery.

“Have I ever told you just how much I hate Herbology?” she muttered.

“Then why did you choose to take it?” Evelyn said quietly, careful to not disturb the relaxing atmosphere of the Library. Imelda shot her a look as though the answer were obvious.

“Professor Weasley said it wasn’t acceptable to just take advanced broom theory and Quidditch Practise solidly for an entire year. Needed to fill my schedule with…something” she returned to huffing and flicked through an old Herbology book, a strong earthy stench filled both their noses with each turn of the page.

“Besides…some plants are useful. Chinese Chomping Cabbages make excellent replacement bludgers, and if you chew on a-“

Imelda’s almost excitable reasoning was quickly cut off by a loud and disturbing bang of the library doors. A rather manic looking Sebastian came bustling through the door, dragging Ominis along by the hand.

Scribner shushed loudly, as Ominis tripped and stumbled into tables and chairs. On their way towards the girls, her brows bristling at the disturbance in her domain knowing full well nothing would happen to either boy. The Heir of Slytherin and The Tri-Wizard Champion for Hogwarts. She may as well bang her head against a wall.

Once, Sebastian released him, he tutted towards the Librarian shooting her a dirty look before turning his ire back towards a fidgeting Sebastian, an untrustworthy grin pulling at his lips.

“Was there any need for that?” Ominis hissed, pulling his arm from Sebastian’s iron like grip.

“Every need in the world, my good friend” Sebastian beamed as he took a seat at their table. He slammed his palms down on the table, books, parchment and ink all leaping slightly from the surface. “I finally figured it out…”

“How to start a conversation normally? Oh…clearly not” Evelyn teased gently, a smile tugging at Ominis’ lips. His arm snaked around her waist as he joined her side, the two of them instinctually leaning into one another.

“No! The Second Trial” Sebastian’s voice became muffled as he dug around in his robes, producing a crumpled piece of parchment, hastily scribbled on, slightly damp and thin strands of spider web trailing after it.

“What’s this?” Imelda leaned over to inspect the small paragraph scrawled upon it, inspecting it with her usual critical eye. An amused smirk pulled at her usual stoic features “You trying your hand at poetry, Sallow”

“It’s the clue to the next trial. I was trying spells again. Confringo. Incendio. Arrania Exumai. The usual. Still, nothing was working. Eventually lost my temper and just started hurtling jinx and hexes, all sorts.”

“Aquamenti. Thats what ended up working. All the little droplets of water stilled into this…”

Sebastian joyously flourished his hands towards the paper with a heavy vainglorious sigh.

Imelda scoffed and pushed the paper towards Evelyn, her eyes rolling after reading the little poem.

“These paragons of worth, you owe a great debt.

This trial will see that neither forget…

Our burden will add to your mounting pile.

Of favours and gifts, you thought worthwhile…

One hour you shall have to seek what we stole.

And see if these champions stay a giving soul…”

Evelyn’s tone betrayed her confusion as she read aloud, though the tightening of Ominis’ fingers lead her to believe this probably wasn’t just an innocent albeit ominious poem.

“It’s a clue to the next trial” Sebastian bounced, vibrated almost, in his chair. “I think it has something to do with the Lake. Why use Aguamenti if not?”

“So? You’re swimming around the lake to…what? Take in the sights?” Imelda said with a hint of annoyance. If there was one thing Imelda hated…it was the unknown. And the lack of control that came along side it.

“Not sure. Maybe there’s a clue in the lake? But I’m certain it involves you two…” Sebastian’s gaze shifted towards Evelyn and Ominis “Owing a debt, favours…being a burden” Sebastians' tone of accomplishment faded towards the end of his sentence, his self-loathing rising quickly to the surface.

“I think you’re partly right…” Ominis said flatly “…I think, yet again, you’ve dragged Evelyn along with you into danger. Merlin only know whta this trial could entail...and now Evelyn is at risk. Again.” his tone sharpened as he spoke, the grip on Evelyn’s waist increasing.

Evelyn watched as Sebastian flinched, Ominis’s words and tone clearly striking a nerve.

“Hold on now…it might not be me. That poem could be anyone...” Evelyn reasoned “I haven’t been that helpful to you”

“You do look after his sister. And he wouldn’t have been able to do anything during fifth year without you…” Imelda reasoned

“Yes…thank you for pointing that out, Imelda” Ominis spat once again, neck jerking in Evelyn’s general direction accusatorially.

Imelda’s eyes snapped to Ominis’ immediately on the defence. She hadn’t meant to throw Evelyn into the firing line, but from what Sebastian had told her about their collective awful fifth year…Evelyn did play a large role in a lot of his antics. It wasn’t her fault, she didn’t know what she was doing was bad for the most part…but regardless…

And despite Ominis agreeing with her, both him and Imelda had an awful habit of butting heads. Neither of them knew how to control their tone or face, not that Ominis knew that.

So when he leapt immediately on Imelda’s choice of words, her shoulders squared and her brow slammed over her eyes.

It was rather amusing how similar they looked when they got their back up about something. Not the time to point that out though…

Sebastian placed a calming hand on Imelda’s shoulder, shaking his head subtlety.

‘It’s fine…he doesn’t mean it that way’ Sebastian mouthed. Immediately, Ominis’ eyes shot to Sebastian, his lips curled into a snarl, no doubt about to unleash another rehearsed lecture in his direction.

“Well…what about Anne?…” Evelyn said hurriedly, saving Sebastian from yet another rant “…Could it not be her?”

The nails digging into her side were becoming a dull pain and she began to notice Ominis shaking. From anger or worry she wasn’t sure. But from the familiar shadow of his brow she guessed anger…

“Doubtful…” Sebastian said casually as though two of the most important people in his life weren’t at loggerheads “…Anne hasn’t done anything for me. I’ve always looked after her…”

“Ah…so-“

“So me or you are going to be paying for Sebastian’s foolishness once again” Ominis snapped, rising from his seat with an ear piercing screech of chair legs against marble.

“Ominis…I didn’t mean for this to happen. You have to know that…” Sebastian said, voice level and calm. He was used to speaking with Ominis when he got like this. He didn’t even break a sweat “…I’m sorry if it’s you-”

“You think I care if it’s me?” He growled leaning down towards Sebastian and Imelda on the other side of the table “It’s her I’m worried about…” He snapped back up, fast as lightening, before turning on his heel and marching out of the library.

Evelyn watched as he walked away with a sigh. She looked back between Imelda and Sebastian with an apologetic smile.

“I’m sorry if it’s you too, Vee” Sebastian said with a soft smile and took her hand. “I just wanted to make Anne proud, I genuinely didn’t mean to get you involved with this…”

“It’s okay….” her smile mirrored his as she squeezed his hand “…I’m just going to make sure he’s okay”

“Maybe one day we’ll have a peaceful study session together” Imelda smirked looking back down at her Herbology book one last time.

“Not with these two…”

Upon exiting the library, Evelyn was confronted with the all too familiar sight of Ominis, pacing. He muttered to himself like a mad man, arms gesticulating as though he were arguing with someone just ahead of him.

Then he heard her familiar footsteps, the heavy set of her foot as she unknowingly stomped towards him. He couldn’t stop the upturn of his lips as he recalled this timepiece of knowledge. Something no doubt lost on everyone else.

As she approached, his pacing slowed until he stood directly in front of her, looming down at her with hard eyes.

“I’m not going to apologise, if that’s what you’re about to say…” he snarled before she had even opened her mouth.

“It wasn’t actually…but you can take that tone away, right now” she snapped back, brows angry over her dark eyes.

“I wasn’t- ugh”

He looked almost like a petulant child the way he crossed his arms and hunched over. His thin lips pulled taught before he pouted and threw his arms out in defeat.

“Look- I didn’t mean to snap at you. It’s just-“

“Just Sebastian…I know” Evelyn understood the toll everyone’s favourite Sallow had on him. She usually shared that load. But for some reason, this next trial had triggered something in Ominis that she wasn’t privy to. And the weight was evident in his shoulders. Ominis shook his head before responding…

“Except you don’t…” he muttered incredulously, a bitter sarcastic laugh leaving his tight curled lips “…You haven’t read that Tri-Wizard History, have you?…I have. Front to back. And there are clear patterns across the years. Patterns of trials, of messaging, of fatalities; both champions and patrons alike. It is almost guaranteed that there will be at least one trial involving someone of importance in the champions life. And based on that…”

A long boney finger jabbed accusatorially toward the Library, where Sebastian sat with the parchment that condemned someone to participate in the trial

“…is most definitely you”

“But it-“

“But nothing, Evelyn…” He interrupted with sorrow laden in his voice, gripping her shoulders in desperation “…he loves you. He wouldn’t have his sister without you. And if you die…”

It was becoming too much. He’d just gotten her. She was his. And she could be taken from him? It wasn’t fair. He felt his knees go weak and jaw clench, teeth almost cracking with the pressure.

“…if I lose you…” his grip tightened on her shoulders almost painfully. The only way he could know where she was, was if he held her. And his grip could not, would not, waver

“…I can’t…” eventually his eyes closed, willing the thoughts flickering across his mind away.

“It’s okay…” Evelyn whispered “…if, and that’s only if, I get chosen or taken or whatever this demands…” her hands snaked up, cupping his jaw, thumbs caressing his cheeks. Her fingers tips dipped into the short blonde hairs behind his ears, holding his face securely. And despite everything, she willed him to look at her, truly feel her. “…I will be fine. I can look after myself. I am not glass. You know that better than most. And Sebastian won’t let anything bad happen to me…”

Ominis sighed, his forehead resting against hers, his body seemingly giving up the fight. From exhaustion or because she’d convinced him; she didn’t know.

“I have endured so much hurt in my life…” he croaks, the words coming from deep within him “…so much darkness. And the one speck of light, of good, could be plucked away so easily...”

A soulless chuckle leaves him as he pulls away, fingers waning, eyes opening.

“I’m starting to realise just how fragile everything is…and I can’t handle it…”

Evelyn looked up at him. This broken, pained man and it caused physically pain. To gaze upon someone so sweet and deserving and find…nothing. Her chest tightened as her eyes flickered down to the swirling, gnarled scar creeping up his neck.

His brother did that…his kin.

And yet that same family had protected him until very recently.

She couldn’t blame him for panicking. For being scared. His only avenue for security, he had willing stepped away from. Over and over in his mind, lay what ifs of a world where he had just waited. Waited to separate from that family and put a word in with the Headmaster to keep her safe.

Now she was in danger.

Because of him.

In exchange for what? Was it worth it?

Evelyn found herself staring onto the milky irises of a man who had made sacrifices for her she hadn’t even known about. And…she loved him.

She had known that for a while now. Longer than she’d care to admit.

But had he ever experienced love before? Unconditional and unending love?

She knew he had because that’s what she felt for him. But he didn’t know that.

Maybe he should…

“I just…” he breathed, voice losing all of its usual gravitas and strength “…Promise me you won’t stray from me? If I can just…keep you…until the trial, at the very least, maybe I won’t worry so much”

“If I stick to you like glue…do you promise to calm down?” She teased lightly, the familiar warm tone returning to her otherwise angelic voice.

“Perhaps…” he murmured, a smile curled upon his lips.

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eggymf-archived · 1 year

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of paper planes and wildflowers; 05

ft. ominis gaunt with f!reader (series)

chapter warnings: mildly grotesque jinx effects, icky men, stalking, not edited, not proofread

chapter summary: you didn’t know which was the worst thing that happened within the same week: constantly being targeted by an insufferable 7th year, randomly getting assigned in tutoring a classmate you dislike, or the fact that your heart might’ve raced when a certain blonde-haired slytherin pulled a rather uncharacteristic stunt to get a creep off your back.

word count: almost 4.6k

a/n: this is a bit of a filler in a way to set the events for pt. 6 of this fic. also, my updates will most likely be slowing down due to my work load irl, but i’ll try to dish out at least one chapter every week or so. cheers! :)

main masterlist || series masterlist || AO3

“Oi, stop right there!” an annoying voice belonging to a 7th year prefect called out from the end of the halls – the last person you ever want to encounter especially without any of your friends by your side.

“Oh no,” you groaned, rolling your eyes as you quickly turned to the opposite direction, briskly walking away. You always thought you had the tenacity of a badger especially when it comes to handling difficult situations. Unfortunately, this was one of those days where you specifically wanted to knee someone extremely hard on the crotch for being an insufferable prat.

Robert Bulstrode: 7th year Slytherin Prefect – also known as the Twat of the Century according to you, and Garreth Weasley. Robert Bulstrode was bad news according to many students due to his foul deeds. At first glance, he seems like a dashing young gentleman with perfect manners – the heir of the wealthy pureblooded-family of Bulstrode, tall with toned muscles, pearly white teeth, soft ebony hair, and quite an alluring gaze. Albeit his Adonis-like appearance, he is one of the most disgustingly vile degenerates within the school. Unfortunately, you’ve been his target for around three to four days now, and it was most certainly taking a toll on your sanity.

It all started with the misfortune of you getting caught in the heavy rain while you were out collecting some Ashwinder eggs at the cliffs near the Quidditch pitch. You weren’t wearing your uniform on that day due to it being just another relaxing Sunday: just a simple button-down shirt and a pair of grey trousers. Upon entering the Bell Tower Wing completely soaked to the bone, Bulstrode just so happened to catch a glimpse of your wet clothes clinging onto your figure. He has been lecherously staring and stalking you eversince.

Garreth did offer to be your chaperone and has been doing it so for the past few days. However, your best friend had been forced to do some extra assignments by Professor Weasley this particular morning, hence his absence. Needless to say, the 7th year prefect often pestered you to no end about going on a “date” with him whenever you weren’t in the safe company of any of your friends.

“Come on. Just one date! I promise I’ll make it worth your while!”

You ignored the male, who was catching up to you while you briskly walked to the Potions Classroom.

“I won’t stop asking until you say yes.”

You felt the last remaining threads of your patience snap, causing your lips to curl into a close-mouthed, insincere smile as you exhaled sharply through your nose.

Upon noticing that the hallways is currently desolated except for you two, you halted. Swiftly, you grabbed your wand and pointed the tip at Robert’s direction with the same mirthless smile on your face, firing two consecutive jinxes. Robert collapsed and landed on the ground with a loud thud, his legs now a jelly-like consistency. Pimples began to pop out of his once unblemished face at an alarming rate, and small tentacles sprouted out of the newly-formed pustules. The 7th year screamed in horror as his hands felt the tendril-like appendages tickling the surface of his palm.

“Obliviate,” you wordlessly casted, cleaning up the scene of your own little crime. You then turned your heel the moment you saw Robert’s eyes roll to the back of his head, slipping into a state of unconsciousness due to his screaming session.

“Why couldn’t more men be like Ves?!” you thought bitterly as you headed to the Potions Classroom in peace. Overtime as more letters were exchanged between you and him, Ves became your bare minimum standard when it comes to men: kind, respectful, considerate, thoughtful, emotionally mature, and clever in his own right. You couldn’t say much for his looks since you haven’t met him yet, but you were certain that there’s this possibility that he’s probably very prince-like in his own way. The sole thought itself made you shamefully swoon deep down.

And Bulstrode? He’s nothing compared to Ves.

Going to the Potions Classroom early wasn’t something that Ominis usually did, and if he was instructed to do so by none other than Professor Sharp himself, it usually spelled out some sort of trouble for the young Gaunt. Ominis never really favored the Potions Master: Sharp was indeed knowledgeable, but he was insanely strict and grumpy most of the time, usually expecting his students to fare well with little to no guidance. This teaching method has proved itself to be a huge disadvantage to Ominis due to his lack of sight, and it was evident with the usually poor grades he got in every practical lesson under Sharp’s tutelage.

“Good morning, Professor Sharp. You wanted to talk about my grades?” Ominis worriedly asked the ex-Auror, who hobbled towards his usual seat at the front of his classroom with his usual gruff expression on his face. He flipped the thick book atop his table, running his finger along the pages to search for the young Gaunt’s grades.

“Ah yes, Mr. Gaunt,” Professor Sharp began, leaning comfortably against the backrest of his chair.

“Based on your record, it seems that you’ve been severely underperforming in your practical activities. While you have a firm grasp on the lessons when it comes to theory, you are aware that your OWLs is a practical test, correct?”

Ominis nodded in response, silently dreading what the middle-aged man was about to say.

“If that’s the case, I hope you understand the severity of the situation regarding your current grades, Mr. Gaunt,” Professor Sharp said grimly, tapping his finger against the wooden surface of the table. “To put it simply, you’re on thin ice. And I’d rather not have any of my students fail in this class.”

“Then perhaps you should actually teach instead of shove the textbook down our throats?” Ominis sarcastically remarked in his thoughts, keeping his poker face intact as Professor Sharp continued.

“In light of your current situation, you are to do extra assignments from me. I will be requiring you to brew several potions from past lessons, and I shall be assigning one of your classmates to aid you with these tasks.”

A rather loud thud on one of the tables echoed throughout the nearly empty classroom, causing Professor Sharp to dart his eyes towards you who had slammed your textbook by accident. Your eyes widened, muttering an apology. The ebony-haired professor narrowed his eyes, humming.

“Ms. (L/N), a word?” he called, causing you to hurriedly skedaddle towards the front of the classroom.

“Yes, sir?”

“Mr. Gaunt here is in dire need of some guidance in the extra assignments that I’ll be assigning to him. As one of the better-performing students in this class, I trust that you’ll be capable of ensuring that he’ll at least get an acceptable grade for his OWLs?” Professor Sharp asked, his tone sounding more like an order than a question. You briefly glanced at Ominis, who had his lips formed into a tight line, and then back to the professor.

“If Gaunt is alright with it, then I’ll do what I can,” you curtly replied. Before Ominis could breathe another word, Professor Sharp had cut him off.

“Very well. I shall give you both the list of assignments after class.”

Ominis frowned, grumbling as he navigated his way to his usual table while you returned to yours with an equally displeased expression etched on your face. Within a few minutes, your classmates began to pour in, occupying the remaining seats of the classroom. Professor Sharp then stood up, signifying the start of class. All of you were required to brew an Invigoration Draught, much to your relief. The draught was fairly easy to concoct despite its brewing time and rather long list of ingredients.

You finished most of the steps fairly easily with little to no obstacles. While you were waiting for your draught to turn into a shade of blue as it cooled down, Garreth had occupied the other vacant burner, concocting another one of his brews to pass the time.

“Hey, do you happen to have some extra billywig stings?” Garreth queried. You handled him a jar containing the said ingredient and he received it gratefully with his usual boyish grin.

Everyone bolted upright the moment the classroom door swung open, the sound of the door slamming against the stone wall echoing throughout the enclosed space. Much to everyone’s surprise, Nurse Blainey scurried into the Potions Classroom and hurried towards Professor Sharp with a rather frantic expression on her face.

“Professor Sharp, do you happen to have any cure for boils within your storage?” the nurse asked in a lowered volume. Garreth nudged you, tilting his head towards the two adults. You leaned slightly closer, attempting to eavesdrop on their conversation slightly together with the red-haired Gryffindor male beside you.

“I believe I’ve given Professor Black the last of the phials, but I can brew one immediately. Is there something the matter?” Professor Sharp asked.

“A student found Robert Bulstrode in one of the corridors with jelly legs and tentacles coming out of his face. We assume somebody had used both the jelly-legs and pimple jinx on the poor boy,” Nurse Blainey explained, causing Sharp to raise an eyebrow in mild amusement and one corner of his mouth to twitch slightly upwards before clearing his throat when the nurse shot him a serious look.

“I’ll brew it immediately,” Professor Sharp grunted. “But it may take a while, so I humbly request for your patience.”

“Please do. The boy has been wailing and complaining all morning in the hospital wing! I’m at my wit’s end!”

Garreth turned to you with wide eyes and a look of realization as Nurse Blainey exited the classroom.

“Did you...?” Garreth trailed off.

“...Did I?” you teasingly feigned innocence, causing the ginger-haired male to audibly snort in an attempt to suppress his laughter. You uncontrollably let out a mild snigger, biting your lower lip in hopes of preventing yourself from laughing out loud while you elbowed Garreth on the rib to make him stop infecting you with his contagious hysterics.

“Y’know, I don’t know which one is funnier,” Garreth snickered while leaning towards your ear. “Bulstrode getting jinxed or Black needing a cure for boils – where’d you reckon he has those? His buttocks?”

You and Garreth wheezed in unison, erupting in coughs and snorts to mask both of your hysterical laughter. The both of you stopped your antics immediately when Professor Sharp walked by your table, prompting you to check your cauldron: the room temperature liquid within it was finally in the shade of blue as described in the textbook. You grabbed a flask and filled it up with the draught before going to Professor Sharp to get your potion graded. He swirled the liquid within the flask, checking for its consistency and popped the cork stopper off, smelling its contents. He gave a nod of approval, scribbling an “O” beside your name in his records.

You went back to the table while Garreth went to have his attempt checked. You pointed your wand towards your cauldron, making the invigoration draught within it disappear. Moments right after, Garreth returned to the table and and proceeded to clean his cauldron up as well before focusing on his ongoing concoction until classes end. As soon as you were done with cleaning up your station, Imelda Reyes walked up to you.

“Hey (L/N). Sharp told me to switch seats with you. Said something about you guiding Gaunt with his potions from now on,” she explained. You nodded, heading over to the table right across the other side of the room despite your reluctance.

Ominis dejectedly sighed at his cauldron while he sat on his stool, just waiting for the class to end. However, he immediately sat upright when he heard someone place their things atop the table. Ominis felt a presence getting nearer, peering at his cauldron.

“Oh, you’re almost done. The color is a bit off, though. I think you need slightly a bit more drops of the infusion of wormwood – perhaps one or two?” you suggested.

“But the book said–”

“The book’s got a lot of wrong measurements actually. Just trust me on this.” you reassured. Ominis scoffed lightly at your signature know-it-all tendency but acquiesces nonetheless. A deafeningly awkward silence loomed over the both of you as you both awaited Ominis’ draught to be done. You peered into his cauldron again, finding that the once pale blue liquid is now vivid blue just like your recent attempt.

“It’s done,” you said, handing Ominis an empty flask. He carefully filled the flask up with the draught, immediately going to Professor Sharp to have his attempt checked. Sharp narrowed his eyes, inspecting the draught carefully.

“Hmm. Decently made,” Professor Sharp hummed, scribbling an “E” beside Ominis’ name in his records for once. Ominis’ eyes widened upon hearing Sharp out of all professors utter those words of approval. Sharp also handed the befuddled young Slytherin two pieces of parchment containing the extra assignments he shall be tasked to do before his OWLs. As he walked back to the table, you looked at him expectantly.

“... Well?” you asked, your lips curling into a knowing smirk.

“Hmm. I suppose you actually do your job pretty well,” Ominis hummed.

“Hmm. Then perhaps you should listen to me from now on,” you smugly retorted in a slightly mimicking fashion, causing the young Gaunt to scoff in return while cleaning his cauldron up.

You were currently in your room at your desk, scribbling on a piece of parchment while the thick book that was levitating beside you flipped to the next page. You were rushing your assignments due in three days – something you would’ve already been finished with it if it weren’t for that blasted stalker of yours. Luckily for you, Madam Scribner was kind enough to let you borrow extra books that you could study within the comfort of your own dorm room.

The sound of large flapping wings entered the room: Russ had flown in through the open window, carrying two neatly stacked boxes tied together with a thick piece of twine with his talons. He dropped the package right at your bedside before flying up towards his perch for his usual fill of owl treats. Bits of pellets materialized in front of the owl, who hooted in appreciation. Placing your quill neatly back into the ink pot, you untied the package and opened the smaller box atop the larger one, finding an envelope placed neatly on a packet of assorted cookies. Prying the flap open, you began to read the letter’s contents.

Dearest Lucie, I apologize for sending a letter out of the blue, but I simply couldn’t help but to feel rather worried of your wellbeing. I noticed that your reply to my previous letter I sent last Saturday hasn’t arrived. Is everything alright? I didn’t upset you or anything, did I? For good measure, I attached a gift alongside this letter. Hopefully it’s not too much for your liking. Worried and missing you, Ves

Placing the larger box on your lap, you carefully lifted the cover. You were greeted by a neat array of dark pink and crimson red carnations, its sweet fragrance lingering lightly in the air. Your once moody expression was now non-existent, fully replaced with a huge grin and a shade of light pink dusting your cheeks as you conjured a fresh piece of parchment and grabbing your quill, writing your reply while Russ was still in the room resting atop his perch.

“Pink and red carnations, huh...” you mused out loud, a knowing giggle bubbling from your lips.

The sound of light footsteps on hardwood floor alongside the faint scribbling of quill tips against parchment and the gentle crackling of the nearby fireplace filled the quiet air within the library. The majority of the students present within the place were mostly busy with their own assignments and readings. Ominis was sitting in one of the long tables, rather distracted from his task at hand. He was supposed to be doing his essay on the properties of alihotsy leaves due in a few days, yet he was spacing out while staring at his pile of books.

Giving to his urge of momentary procrastination, he let out a sigh and slipped out an envelope that had he had sandwiched between one of his textbooks. Upon opening the letter, a pleasant scent combination of freesias and peonies greeted Ominis’ nostrils, causing a faint smile to grace his usually vacant expression.

Dearest Ves, I apologize for my slow reply. To be honest, I haven’t been able to go to the owlery as frequently and freely as I can without at least a friend tagging along. This week has been absolutely dreadful so far and I’ve been traversing through the hallways in fear especially when I’m alone. I’m being targeted by a 7th year who can’t seem to know what “no” is – can you imagine someone being that daft? He had more than a decade to have a full grasp on that basic concept yet he acts like an animal in heat at the mere sight of a young lady in wet clothes? Thinking about it makes me absolutely livid. I can’t believe I’m being held back from going out and about even within the school grounds because of some prefect who can’t keep his behavior and shameful urges in check. Regardless, I would like to thank you for your wonderful gifts. They truly did make my terrible week a lot better, and I would love to repay you for your thoughtfulness. Alas, all I can offer you for now is one of my pressed roses since my hands are tied for now. The scent of the flower has already faded a long time ago. But not to worry, I shall not give you a scentless parchment. I spritzed some of my own perfume while I’m still confined within the school. I promise I’ll send you more flowers once I have my freedom back again. With love, Lucie P.S. You certainly have an interesting choice when it comes to flowers. It’s rather poetic and subtle of you, not that I’m complaining.

The opal-eyed male’s eyebrows furrowed as he tucked the letter back into its envelope, sandwiching it carefully in his transfiguration textbook which rested on top of the short stack of books neatly arranged beside him. He loosely gripped on his self-inking quill, unable to focus on the assignment he was doing while he waited for your arrival. Out of worry for Lucie’s wellbeing, he racked through his brain on who the stalker might possibly be.

7th year prefect? Skirt-chasing? Has an ego so fragile he can’t handle rejection?

Ominis slowly tapped the tip of his quill on the table surface as he pondered.

Why does that person sound way too much like–

“I know I’m late. I got caught up with something,” a familiar voice grumbled, snapping Ominis out of his train of thought. You sat at the vacant seat beside him, slamming your potions textbook open. The aggressiveness shocked everyone within the same table, to which you paid no mind to since you were absolutely exhausted and stressed out.

“Grumpy today, huh?” Ominis remarked, causing a sigh to escape from your lips.

“Gaunt, I’m tired. Can we just please get this over with?” you irritably retorted, causing the male to put his hands up in defeat while you turned his potions textbook to the same page as yours. Miraculously, Ominis had agreed to let you change some of the measurements within the recipes in his potions textbook that were incorrect to make his potion brewing a lot easier. Minutes passed quickly as you tutored the opal-eyed male while he made the revisions in his textbook.

“So for the Wiggenweld Potion, it’s actually 10 lionfish spines and not 9–”

You were cut off by a distant sound, specifically the obnoxious voice of the person you’ve been desperately avoiding followed by contemptuous laughter from his two cronies. You glanced at the trio of misfits, clicking your tongue in annoyance. You hadn’t expected Robert Bulstrode to recover that quickly from your mild onslaught of jinxes.

“I should’ve verbally jinxed him instead,” you hissed under your breath lowering your head slightly to avoid getting seen by the 7th year.

“Jinxed who?” Ominis asked while raising an eyebrow, his sharp hearing catching what you had just said. Inhaling a lungful of air to calm your overthinking thoughts, you decided to confess your deeds in hopes of obtaining the possibility of receiving the alabaster-skinned male’s assistance once again.

“Your house’s bloody foul git of a prefect, of course!” you contemptuously scoffed. Ominis’ mouth hung slightly ajar, before uncharacteristically morphing into a rather excited grin.

“You jinxed Bulstrode?”

“... Did I?” you sarcastically retorted, poorly feigning your innocence. The opal-eyed male cleared his throat, masking the bubbling snicker that threatened to escape his lips.

“Well done,” Ominis praised, causing you to snort in response at the unexpected approval. You quickly cleared your throat, reverting back to your once serious expression. You snuck a look at Bulstrode, who was staring at you intensely. You gasped in mild terror, looking away immediately.

“I take it that you need my assistance once again?” Ominis drawled, his lips curling into a teasing smirk.

“As much as I don’t want it, I believe you do owe me a favor,” you huffed.

“A favor? What favor?”

“Your grades in potions?”

“You were ordered to do this by Sharp, though. It doesn’t count.”

“Doesn’t mean I can’t help you get at least an A for your OWLs, am I correct?” you bargained, glancing at Ominis. The alabaster-skinned male pondered for a moment before letting out a hum.

“Make it an E.”

“Deal.”

Ominis grabbed your wrist, dragging you into the a random section within the library away from prying eyes. This prompted Robert to get off his seat and follow the both of you, hiding behind several bookcases and watching your every move. You looked at Ominis quizzically as he backed you up against one of the bookcases.

“What in Merlin’s name are you doing?!” you hissed while narrowing your eyes suspiciously. Ominis leaned towards your ear, placing his hand right beside your head to prevent you from escaping.

“First and foremost, we’re doing this my way. Whatever I say goes until he’s off your back, are we clear?” he muttered while you sighed in defeat.

“Fine. But what does this have to do with anything?” you angrily whispered while Ominis sighed disapprovingly at your hostility.

“I can feel someone staring at us from one of the bookcases nearby. Two o’clock from where you’re facing. Is that him?”

You quickly glanced towards the direction Ominis said, finding a tuft of ebony hair and a pair of raging watchful eyes behind several books. You redirected your gaze towards the opal-eyed male.

“...Yes?”

“Let’s give him a good show, shall we?”

Ominis cupped his hand against your cheek. You were about to protest by pushing him away, but he immediately shushed you.

“Play along. I know what I’m doing,” he breathed out, resting his forehead against yours. He rubbed your cheek gently with his thumb while you instinctively leaned towards the comforting warmth of his palm more, your eyes getting heavier by the second. Your breaths slowed yet deepened as you gazed within Ominis’ misty blue eyes, feeling your heartbeat quicken the longer your stared at it.

“You know, I think you’re enjoying this a little too much,” he whispered softly with a slightly teasing tone, his breath fanning against your lips. “Your heartbeat’s getting rather quick.”

“You’re begging to be hexed right now, aren’t you?” you deadpanned. Ominis scoffed lightly at the hidden bashfulness behind your tone.

“So, is he still there?” he asked, ignoring your empty threat.

Your eyes wandered towards the bookshelf: Robert’s face was turning bright red with rage, seethingly glaring at the both of you.

“... Yes, and he’s angry.”

“Good,” Ominis muttered, inching his lips towards yours. Your eyes slowly closed, feeling yourself lean towards Ominis unconsciously.

SLAM!

The both of you jolted in surprise: Robert Bulstrode had thrown one of the books he had been gripping onto angrily right onto the hardwood floor, storming off the library section out of sheer rage. Keeping to his word, you felt Ominis push himself away from your frame, much to your relief. He leaned back against the nearest bookcase, crossing his arms while smirking as Madam Scribner began to give Robert and his two henchmen a huge earful about handling school properties with better care.

“See? That wasn’t too difficult now, was it?” Ominis chuckled while you were partially still in a daze, confused with what had just occurred.

“... Wait. That’s it?” you bemusedly ask, causing the blonde-haired male to chortle at your reaction.

“What? Were you expecting something more?” Ominis mockingly queried, causing you to glare at him half-heartedly. With arms crossed and cheeks tinged in a shade of bright red, you stomped back to the table where the both of you were studying at while Ominis tailed after you with a smug little smirk plastered on his face.

With Robert Bulstrode out of the library after witnessing the stunt that Ominis had pulled, the rest of your study session with the young Gaunt went surprisingly smooth. After studying for potions, the both of you sat in silence, doing the remainder of your assignments until the library was nearing its closing hours.

Much to your surprise, Ominis even offered to accompany you all the way to the Ravenclaw Tower. Not wanting to cast another disillusionment charm on yourself for the umpteenth time this week, you happily agreed. The walk to the tower, albeit silent, was rather peaceful – the both of you were in deep thought regarding everything that had transpired within the rather chaotic day.

“You didn’t have to escort me back into my common room, you know?” you grumbled, halting at the spiral staircase landing and turning towards the young Gaunt.

“I’m merely sticking to my end of the bargain. Did you really think that Bulstrode would let this slide that easily?”

“I suppose not,” you sighed. “He has been rather persistent for the past week – as thick-headed as a bloody Graphorn.”

“Then I suppose you’re temporarily stuck with me until he’s gone,” Ominis nonchalantly said in a mildly teasing manner, a ghost of a smile worming its way on his face. You scoffed, letting a tired smile form on your lips.

“I’ll see you around, Gaunt. Good night.”

Footsteps against marble echoed lightly throughout the empty stairwell of the Ravenclaw Tower. Ominis leaned back at the nearest wall, his once light-hearted expression instantly morphing into a solemn one as soon as he heard the door to the Ravenclaw Common Room open and slam shut. His mind began to piece the bits of information that he had coincidentally obtained within the day.

Could it be...?

After much contemplation, he sighed in defeat. He brought his wand up, the tip automatically blinking its distinct red light and proceeded to navigate his way to the Slytherin Common Room while desperately trying to blank out his mind from today’s events.

However, much to his dismay, all he could think about was the specific scent of peonies and freesias that lingered in the air whenever he was near you.

< chapter 4: an adventurer’s whims

chapter 6: blurred lines 🔞 >

#ominis gaunt x reader #ominis gaunt #ominis gaunt x f!reader #ominis gaunt x you #ominis x reader #ominis fluff #ominis x you #ominis x f!reader #ominis gaunt fluff #ominis fic #ominis gaunt fic #hogwarts legacy ominis #hogwarts legacy #ominis

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pmwritesandpoems · 3 months

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A Timeless Hogwarts Legacy: Chasm (11/16)

Fandom: Hogwarts Legacy Main Title: A Timeless Hogwarts Legacy Pairing: Ominis Gaunt/Original Female Character Tags: Romance; Hurt/Comfort; Angst; Fluff; Friendship; Mutual Pining; Slow Burn

Chapter: 11/16 Title: Chasm Word Count: 26,176

Last Chapters: AO3 (All Chapters) Tumblr (Up to chapter 7, chapter 8 and so on will only be posted on AO3)

Notes: - I won't mention the main character's house, you could choose her house yourself. - You could change the main character's name with yours, I’ll try my best to not mention her skin, hair, and eye colour so you could match it with your own. - I am no expert of the Victorian era, the use of the calendar system, etiquette, and many other things from the said era are changed as I see fit to support the story. Several insertions of modern era culture will be present as well to support the story. - I never played Hogwarts Legacy. I wrote this and the chapters before based solely on my research on the internet, a.k.a. Searching about it and watching all the videos on Youtube. I wanted to play, but I had no proper equipment. So please understand if there are timeline or explanation differences between this fiction and what happened in Hogwarts Legacy. But I try to live up to the characters and canon story.

Enjoy!

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pandagrl1997 · 5 months

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Hello neighbors I would appreciate if you gave my fanfic a read I worked so hard to write it

And some times I lose motivation, but I do put my best efforts into it as much as I can these days

#ominis gaunt #ominis x mc #hogwarts legacy ominis #ominis fic #romance #long reads #love

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choccy-milky · 13 days

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the twins and their jelly genes 💕💢 ((from the newest chap of my fic! ao3/wattpad))

#just 2 more chapters to go and the fic will be done🥲#part of me is looking forward to having it done and under my belt BUT ALSO BIG SAD..... ill still keep drawing them tho #and will probs write some oneshots/a small series about their adult life as curse breakers and will also defs DRAW more of it #hogwarts legacy #sebastian sallow #ominis gaunt #sebastian sallow x mc #sebastian sallow x oc #anne sallow #ominis #ominis x anne #hogwarts legacy sebastian #hogwarts legacy ominis #clora clemons #choccyart

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shadowtriovibes · 11 months

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it's a sign of the times

Pairing: Sebastian Sallow x f!MC

Rating: PG

Word Count: 3.2K

Summary: request [paraphrased]: "Rivals-to-lovers Sebastian and MC use a Time-Turner to travel to the future with Ominis in search for a cure for Anne. Instead they find a girl who's the spitting image of MC trying to sneak into the Restricted Section in the 1910s, only she has freckles like Sebastian..."

the 'verse continues in "the train ain't even left the station" [AO3]

“Anne-Marie Sallow!” she calls out. “Just where do you think you’re going?” At once, the three of you freeze. “Did she say ‘Sallow?’” hisses Ominis. “Did I hear that right?” “I – no. No,” Sebastian stammers. “There’s no way that’s what she said.”

“Can you please remind me again why I’m even a part of this harebrained scheme?” you ask for at least the third time.

You’re crouched around a small table in one of the far corners of the upper section of the Library. It’s well past curfew, but since you aren’t technically breaking any rules by avoiding the Restricted Section, you’re currently getting away with your loitering, as do most students who are caught studying after hours this close to final exams.

Only, you’re not studying. You’ve been summoned there by Ominis, who despite being your closest friend at Hogwarts is also a conniving, duplicitous liar who neglected to tell you that this whole thing is Sebastian’s idea.

You watch warily as he turns over a contraband Time-Turner in his hands, inspecting its impossibly small dials and knobs. The golden sands inside the hourglass hypnotically shift back and forth while he reads over its inscriptions and consults the guidebook he’d smuggled out of the Restricted Section earlier that same day.

You have no idea where he managed to get the device – perhaps in one of those vaults along the coast in Cragcroftshire that he’d been exploring during the summer term. However, now he’s got it in his head that perhaps the reason you haven’t been able to heal Anne is that the cure to her curse simply hasn’t been invented yet. Therefore, a quick jaunt several years into the future ought to reveal a way to rid Anne of her illness (and maybe even earn his way back into her good graces).

It’s not the first ludicrous and impractical idea he’s had in the past year, nor will it be the last, but it’s certainly one of the more radical ones.

“Merlin’s beard, I’ve already told you,” Sebastian sighs. “Since we’re going forward in time rather than back, this is an unauthorized use, and in case we get stuck in the future, we might need your ancient magic.”

“So I’m an insurance policy?!” you demand.

“Not so much for Sebastian as for me,” Ominis answers plainly. “He thinks he’s got it all sorted out, but I’m not as sure.”

“I know what I’m doing,” Sebastian interjects.

You huff and roll your eyes. “Need I remind you that using a Time-Turner to go forward is expressly forbidden by the Ministry? It’s only to go back.”

“Loads of people have done it, though,” he argues. “I’ve been reading all about it, it’s well-documented.”

“And they’ve all come back to the present?” you demand.

“Yes,” he snaps. “...For the most part.”

You scoff. Unbelievable.

“Do you two honestly think my magic is just an unlimited get-out-of-Azkaban-free pass?” you hiss. “I have no idea how to manipulate time and space. If we get stuck there, we’re stuck there.”

“I’m sure you’ll figure something out like you always do,” Sebastian mutters distractedly as he fiddles with the Time-Turner.

You glance at Ominis pleadingly and he just shrugs.

“You know we can’t let him go alone, we’ll never get him back,” Ominis reasons.

“Is that such a bad thing?” you grumble.

Sebastian shoots you a warning look before he holds up the Time-Turner for the both of you to inspect.

“I have it set to jump forward twenty years,” he explains. “We’ll have to get cozy before we go, as we’ve all got to be wearing it. Physically, we’ll land precisely where we are now, at the same time of day.”

“What if the layout of the Library changes?” you ask skeptically.

“The castle hasn’t changed in centuries,” Ominis points out. “Compared to its history, two decades is indeed quite short.”

“...Fine,” you finally mumble. “Go on, then. Let’s get this over with.”

The three of you stand in a tight circle in a spot tucked away behind some shelves, hoping to remain hidden there after you make the jump forward in time. Sebastian drapes the thin gold chain connected to the Time-Turner around the three of you; it even seems to stretch and extend in length to fit. Then he murmurs a brief incantation to the enchanted timepiece and spins the innermost piece a whopping twenty times.

Your stomach lurches while it turns over and the world around you seems to spin out of control, almost like one of those Muggle carousel rides you saw once as a child. You can barely make out years and years of students and professors walking around you – through you, even – and countless books sliding on and off the shelves until everything comes to a sudden halt and you fall straight to the floor.

Ominis and Sebastian tumble with you, winded.

“That felt bizarre,” Ominis wheezes. “Where are we? Did we travel anywhere?”

“N-no,” Sebastian breathes. “Everything else just… traveled around us.”

You glance around the Library and see that as Ominis had suggested, it looks largely the same. There are some newer books among those you recognize on the shelves, their spines less creased and dyed with more vibrant colors than those of your time.

One title jumps out at you: Advances in Practical Conjuring, 1900-1910

We’re in the 1910s, you think bewilderedly. We’re in a new century.

Mercifully, the layout of the library seems to be largely unchanged. Rows and rows of dimly lit stacks stretch along the length of the grand room with two winding spiral staircases leading down to the lower level.

Once you catch your breath, the three of you cast Disillusionment on yourselves and huddle together to make your way downstairs to the Restricted Section. Ominis leads the way with his wand extended to search for any lingering students or restless ghosts, having long since proven that his spatial awareness bests both yours and Sebastian’s even without his sight.

Your trio makes it downstairs and past the first row of shelves before Ominis stops in his tracks. Sebastian collides with him and then you knock into Sebastian, causing you both to hiss some choice words at each other.

“What’s going on?” you demand in a whisper.

“Someone just came in,” Ominis explains. “The librarian is at the desk and she hasn’t noticed, but a student is coming down the stairs.”

Sure enough, across the room you see a faint flicker of light and can just barely make out the outline of a small student sneaking down the main stairs – must be a young one, you think, no more than thirteen.

“I think it’s a girl,” you offer. “I can see her just over there.”

“What’s she doing?” Sebastian whispers.

“I’m not sure yet,” Ominis says carefully. “She’s past the desk, the librarian didn’t see – oh, for Merlin’s sake.”

“What is it?” you breathe.

“She’s going straight for the Restricted Section,” Ominis mutters. “Just our luck, I suppose.”

The three of you remain crouched behind the shelf while you watch the girl creep ever closer to your hiding spot. You’re panicking inside your head, wondering what possible seams of the universe might immediately be torn to shreds if she were to spot the three of you, but thankfully she seems single-minded in her mission to gain access to the locked collection of books across the room from you.

“She’s tiny,” Sebastian snorts. “I suppose the young ones are even more bold in the future.”

“Weren’t you about her age when you first started to sneak into the Restricted Section?” Ominis reminds him.

Sebastian insists, “No, I was fourteen. I didn’t go in until Anne was attacked. She’s got to be twelve at most, maybe even a first year.”

“Will you two be quiet?” you hiss. “She’s going to hear you!”

Across the room, the Disillusioned girl pulls a key out of the pocket of her robes and starts to insert it into the lock. A girl her age wouldn’t have mastered Alohomora yet, you think, nor would it be effective on this kind of lock. You have no idea how she managed to get a copy of the key, however.

“Do you suppose we could just go in after her?” Sebastian proposes. “She’s nearly got it open, we should take advantage of that.”

“Are you mad?” you scoff. “We can’t be in there at the same time, we’ll get caught!”

“So what if some little girl from the future sees us?” Sebastian argues. “Why wouldn’t she believe we’re just students from her time doing our own research?”

But before you can further explain to Sebastian how astonishingly stupid that idea is, the girl across the room gasps softly and drops her key to the floor. In front of her, the lock is glowing red as if it’s searing hot.

That’s a new security development from your time, you think. It’s rather lucky the three of you didn’t discover that the hard way.

Immediately, the young librarian leaps from her seat and hustles across the room to the Restricted Section’s gated entrance much faster than Madam Scribner ever would have.

“Hang on…” you say under your breath. “Is that – that’s Sophronia!”

“Who?” Ominis asks.

“Sophronia Franklin, she’s a fourth-year in our time,” you explain distractedly. “She’s always lingering in the library, of course she takes over for Scribner once we finish school.”

“I know her,” Sebastian chimes in. “Tried to get me to play a game of trivia in exchange for returning a book on curse breaking I’d been waiting for. Rather precocious, I thought.”

You glare at Sebastian and he merely rolls his eyes.

“I didn’t mean it in a flirtatious way, I was referring to her choice in books,” he grumbles. “Merlin, you’re protective of her.”

“She’s a sweet girl,” you murmur, appreciative of the fact that Sebastian can’t see you blushing. Truthfully, you don’t think much about Sophronia these days, other than that she absolutely cannot catch the three of you in her Library as she’ll easily understand what you’re up to.

Before you can try to convince the boys to call it quits and return to the present, Sophronia rounds the corner and the girl’s Disillusionment charm melts away in surprise.

“Anne-Marie Sallow!” she calls out. “Just where do you think you’re going?”

At once, the three of you freeze.

“Did she say ‘Sallow?’” hisses Ominis. “Did I hear that right?”

“I – no. No,” Sebastian stammers. “There’s no way that’s what she said.”

“Apologies, Madam,” you hear the girl say with a cheeky lilt to her voice. “I was just looking for a book for my aunt, that’s all.”

Just then, Sophronia leans down to pick up the dropped key and all three of you catch a glimpse of the young girl’s face. She’s probably around twelve, like Sebastian had guessed, but her face… Merlin, she could be your younger sister.

Her slightly-upturned nose is nearly identical to yours, only she’s got a small smattering of freckles across hers. Then there’s her chin, which juts out just a bit like yours does, and you’re too far away to make out the color of her eyes but you’re positive that they’re almond-shaped just like your own.

Now that you think about it, her hair is tied back like you always did with yours when you were younger – braided with a green bow at the end, only her hair is a rich, warm brown color.

“...Is that you?” Sebastian asks softly. “How. How are you doing this?”

“That’s not me, I’m right here,” you remind him.

“Hold on, what am I missing?” Ominis whispers.

“That girl looks exactly like this one,” Sebastian insists. “She’s got her nose, her eyes, her face shape. It’s like there’s a second-year version of her, standing right across from us.”

“We’re twenty years into the future,” Ominis reminds you both. “...What if she’s your daughter?”

You feel like the room is starting to spin around you again, and you find yourself pitching to the side before Sebastian quickly tugs on your arm and pulls you back behind the shelf.

“Do not go daft on us now,” he mutters. “I don’t care if that is your daughter–”

“She’s your daughter too, you know,” Ominis chimes in. “In case you were wondering.”

“Wh… What?” Sebastian stutters, and Ominis gestures for the two of you to listen in.

“Goodness, Miss Sallow,” Sophronia sighs. “You really are so much like your father, always sneaking into the Restricted Section.”

You watch as the girl puffs up her chest proudly, a mischievous smirk on her face that doesn’t strike you as particularly like you at all – but rather Sebastian.

“I’ll gladly take that as a compliment, Madam Franklin,” Anne-Marie says.

“While I respect that you are both voracious consumers of knowledge, he, like you, had little respect for the rules of the Restricted Section,” Sophronia continues. “I’ll have to ask you to leave until you get permission from a professor for relevant research or turn fifteen.”

Anne-Marie is still arguing with the librarian as she’s being escorted out. “Perhaps if you would just let me borrow the book for a while–”

“I’m afraid I’ll also have to give you detention this time,” Sophronia interjects. “I can’t keep looking the other way simply because I owe your mother a favor. This is the third time this term!”

Anne-Marie huffs and folds her arms. “But my godfather–”

“Your godfather is a very busy man who would undoubtedly appreciate it if you spent more time staying out of trouble,” Sophronia finishes, “than trying to emulate your father. In fact, I think Ominis would agree with me that one Sebastian Sallow in this world is quite enough!”

Well, that certainly clears things up.

Sophoronia marches Anne-Marie up the stairs and out of the library. The three of you, having already forgotten your original mission, put your heads together without a word so Sebastian can drape the Time-Turner around your necks and return you to the present.

You collapse in a heap on the library floor, but this time it’s fully empty – even the librarian’s desk light is extinguished. You sit in silence for a few moments, and you and Sebastian don’t dare look at each other. Eventually you force yourself to stand and offer Ominis a hand up, steadfastly ignoring the other boy.

“So,” Ominis finally says, barely concealing his smile. “When exactly is it, do you suppose, that the two of you fall hopelessly in love with each other?”

You both curse at him at the same time, and Ominis throws back his head and laughs.

“Shout at me all you want, but that little girl is proof that the two of you are destined for each other,” he crows. “Oh, how brilliant!”

“Come now, Ominis,” Sebastian says with a nervous laugh. “You don’t seriously think that girl is, what… our child or something?”

“That’s precisely what I think,” Ominous answers, smirking. “You said it yourself, she looks exactly like her mother.”

“Stop!” you interject. “I’m not anyone’s mother, in case you forgot.”

“Perhaps not yet,” Ominis agrees primly. “I imagine it will be several more years before Sebastian makes you one.”

Sebastian goes deeply red while you sputter indignantly.

“Thats – that’s foul, Ominis,” you insist. “It’s untoward to even be talking about this!”

Sebastian folds his arms and raises an eyebrow. “Really? You’re that offended by the very idea of us having a child together? I’m hurt.”

“W-well, I just meant that we shouldn’t talk about things that haven’t yet come to pass,” you explain nervously. “Besides, all that is years away. Decades, even.”

Sebastian glances sidelong at you, and you wonder if you’re imagining the way he looks you up and down.

“Right,” he says slowly. “It’s not like we know anything for sure, obviously.”

“Of course,” you agree. “...I don’t suppose you have any other family members named Sebastian? Distant relatives, perhaps?”

“Why?” he drawls. “Looking to snag a cousin of mine so I won’t be the one to father your children?”

You shove him right into one of the bookshelves, but he laughs like he doesn’t regret it one bit.

“Now now,” Ominis murmurs. “You ought to be kind to your future husband, you don’t want to damage his virility.”

“I have half a mind to put a dent in Sebastian’s virility right here and now to save me some trouble later,” you reply, casually aiming your wand at his groin.

“Have you gone mad?!” he stammers as he takes several steps backward. “Put that thing away!”

“Oh, will you please relax?” you sigh. “We just saw one of your descendants, your ability to procreate is in no danger.”

“You could still put me in the Hospital Wing,” he sulks. “Besides, it’s not just procreation that I use it for.”

Ominis snorts. “Unfortunately, I am intimately aware of that.”

You make a face while Sebastian grins cheekily, offering no apology.

The three of you start to make your way toward the exit into Central Hall, ignoring the weak protests of the prefects stationed outside. As you make your way back toward the Slytherin common room, you all fall silent again, lost in your thoughts.

You aren’t sure how you’re supposed to forget what you saw, you think. In the future, you have a daughter. Her father is Sebastian Sallow, and… and she’s brilliant. Beautiful, courageous, more than a bit headstrong, and as determined as you both are if not more so.

You catch yourself actually grinning, and when you glance over at Sebastian, you see the same expression on his face.

“Anything you care to share?” you ask him.

“I know we probably shouldn’t talk about it,” he starts, “but there is one thing that girl said that I won’t soon forget.”

“What’s that?” you ask.

He’s quiet for a moment, and then he admits, “I heard her say she’s looking for a book for her aunt, and you haven’t got any sisters.”

You smile softly and reach for Sebastian’s hand. “No, I don’t.”

He lets you take his hand in his to give a reassuring squeeze.

“She’s still alive,” Sebastian says quietly. “She… she’s still sick, probably. But she’s still alive in the future. She meets my daughter, and she knows her.”

“She does,” you say. “And – and maybe we don’t quite know how that happens yet, but you can have a little faith, Sebastian. Things will work out the way they’re supposed to, and Anne will be with us for a long, long time. There’s still plenty of time to make things right again.”

He nods wordlessly but doesn’t drop your hand.

Just before you arrive at your common room, Ominis stops in his tracks.

“Hang on… Her name, Anne-Marie?” he asks you. “That sounds like something Sebastian would have picked. How generous of you.”

“Aww,” Sebastian laughs. “You must be so in love with me by then to let me pick the name.”

You grit your teeth and ignore them as you murmur the password to the giant stone snake guarding the door, hoping to get some well-earned rest and be rid of these boys for the night.

“Don’t worry, darling,” Sebastian says as he ducks around you and slips inside the door. “I’ll let you pick the name for the second one, and we can duel for rights to the third.”

You go running off after Sebastian and holler, “You bastard Sebastian Sallow, how many damn children are you expecting?!”

Ominis quickly pulls the door shut behind him and shakes his head.

“Godfather,” he mutters to himself. “I’ll never know peace, will I?”

---

[Get to know more of the Sallow kiddos in "the train ain't even left the station" ❤️]

#hogwarts legacy #hogwarts legacy fic #sebastian sallow #ominis gaunt #sebastian sallow x mc #sebastian sallow x reader #sebastian x mc #sebastian x reader #my fic #time travel #i tried to stick to time-turner lore as much as possible while completely retconning it #(future) dad!bastian

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libellule-ao3 · 5 months

Text

NSFW Alphabet | Ominis Gaunt

⚠️ Sexually explicit content | 🔞 | Smut | HC

Summary: Some of my smutty headcanons about Ominis Gaunt, collected under the "NSFW alphabet" template.

Also published on AO3

Masterlist

A = Aftercare

Ominis is a firm believer in consent and aftercare. He always makes sure you feel safe and cherished after sex, especially if he’s completely destroyed you.

B = Body part

Since he’s found other uses for it besides eating and communicating, his mouth is his favorite body part. He loves its sensitivity and the range of possibilities it offers: kissing, tasting, licking, nibbling, sucking, biting hard, lapping...

On the other hand, he doesn't like his legs, which seem too long.

His favorite part of your body is undoubtedly your silky, reactive skin, where he loves to find his own scent (a gentle reminder that you belong to him). Your skin tells your story and expresses the emotions that you keep silent and that he can't see. The skin on your face gets hotter when you’re excited or embarrassed, the skin on your hands gets clammy when you’re nervous...

C = Cum

Cumming inside you is what he prefers, because it’s proof of your total acceptance of him. That said, the idea of perpetuating the Gaunt line anguishes him, so in the absence of contraception, he'll prefer to release himself in your mouth or on your languid body.

D = Dirty secret

At the very beginning of your sexual relationship, Ominis didn't dare let his dominant side express itself during intercourse because he didn't accept this dark side that demanded your total submission. Your enthusiasm when he finally dared to test the waters reassured him and he now fully accepts this inclination.

Ominis appreciates the exclusivity of your relationship. No third party has a place in your bedroom. Or so he claims. But deep down, his ultimate fantasy is a threesome with Sebastian... For the sake of the experience with the only other person with whom he shares a great deal of intimacy.

E = Experience

Ominis has little or no experience before meeting you, because he needs a partner he can trust, and he doesn’t grant it easily. And when it comes to something this intimate, it takes even longer. Your first time together is the fruit of your initiative, after you’ve dispelled his insecurities. Informed and intuitive, Ominis takes the time to get to know your body, and your pleasure helps him gain confidence.

F = favourite position

Ominis loves to feel your burning body squirming with pleasure beneath his, your legs trembling around his waist or on his shoulders, modulating your pleasure by changing the angle and rhythm of his thrusts, kissing you. His favorite positions are those that allow him to do just that.

G = Goofy

Ominis is serious about savoring the moment and intimacy with you. However, he won’t take offense if you laugh at a ticklish caress.

H = Hair

His face is always clean-shaven, and although his hairiness is sparse, he prefers his intimate area trimmed. He’s happy if you do the same, but he’ll never force you to.

I = Intimacy

Because Ominis loves you so much and feels safe with you, he’ll let himself go and be vulnerable, which opens the door to great intimacy during sex. He always likes to be as close to you as possible, wanting to touch you wherever he can put his hand or lips.

J = Jerking off

Solitary pleasures always seem a somewhat shameful action to him, as Ominis sees it as a lack of control over his impulses. But if your absence becomes intolerable, he may indulge his needs to make sure he can keep you on edge when you return.Sometimes he’ll enjoy stroking himself in front of you when you can’t touch him, just for the pleasure of hearing you beg.

K = Kink(s)

Whether it’s the melting of an ice cube on burning skin, a cascade of icy water on your spanked buttocks, or hot wax falling drop by drop before solidifying on your docile body to form a relief painting that his fingers run over with delight, Ominis loves the sensory intensity of temperature play.

Praise kink. Ominis never forget to say how desirable you are, or lde compliment the way you take him, so, so well.

Although he doesn’t show it, Ominis is very sensitive to your compliments. Probably because his existence has been too rarely appreciated in the past and a certain euphoria overcomes him when the most important person in his eyes gives him value.

L = Location

Ominis isn’t comfortable with the idea of being caught in the act, but as long as you can keep your private moments private, Ominis appreciates all kinds of places. (Even if what he prefers is the familiarity of his room or the places where he has his bearings)

M = Motivation

Many things can get him in the mood: a suggestive conversation, a languorous kiss, the undulations of your hips against his or, more simply, the smell of your arousal.

N = No

No matter how intense your games are , he’ll never neglect your physical, mental and emotional health. He makes a clear distinction between pain-pleasure and pain, which is nothing but suffering. So he’ll never inflict the latter on you, and will always respect your limits.

Sex in public. This is a categorical no. On the one hand, because he’s aware of the importance of preserving your reputation in an age when the consideration given to a woman depends largely on her virtue. And on the other, because he believes your lovemaking should remain private.

O = Oral

He loves giving as much as receiving oral pleasure. Burying his head between your trembling thighs is a divine pleasure, as is sinking into your greedy mouth.

P = Pace

Ominis usually fucks you sensuously, even when you want more passionate lovemaking, increasing the intensity of your carnal union as he approaches his climax. But if you need to be punished, he can possess you with a brutal frenzy, until he's sated and drained.

Q = Quicklies

Ominis prefers to take his time... But if your desire is urgent, he's ready to finger you on the spot until you orgasm on his fingers or eat you in a secret nook.

R = Risk

He definitely enjoys experimenting with you in the reassuring intimacy of your bedroom. He welcomes your fantasies without judgment.

S = Stamina

Ominis has patience and determination in spades. He can spend hours if you deserve it, whether for reward or punishment.

T = Toys

Ominis is quite traditional in this respect. He’d much rather feel your orgasm around his fingers, his cock, or on his tongue than use a dildo that prevents him from enjoying much of the pleasure he gives you. Apart from that, Ominis appreciates the use of various accessories to spice up your lovemaking.

U = Unfair

Ominis can be very unfair simply for the pleasure of hearing you beg and cry for him and your release. His favorite way to torment you: The edging. He loves to deprive you of your climax for the umpteenth time in a row, turning you into a whimpering mess so desperate that all rational thought leaves your mind. However, he refuses to let you end up frustrated, which is why he always lets you reach orgasm in the end.

V = Volume

He’s vocal, but part of him will always instinctively try to hold back, because he’s so self-aware. He muffles his moans and groans in your burning skin when he becomes impatient and excited, savoring how soft you are. But he loves to hear you. He demands that you let it all out, every cry, every moan, every gasp, because he knows how to interpret every note to give you maximum pleasure.

W = Wild Card

Ominis likes to be in control, so he likes to dominate you, but he’ll gradually learn to appreciate the release offered by submission and thus vary the pleasures.

Ominis got into the habit before his magic was revealed of carefully storing his belongings so that he could find them easily despite his blindness, and it’s a habit he’s kept as an adult, including during intimate moments. That said, he could do it quickly, but he sometimes takes a perverse pleasure in taking his time while you’re naked, waiting impatiently for him to fuck you.

You were very surprised the first time you heard him let out a few words in parseltongue at the height of his pleasure. Because he's always associated this ability with the Dark Arts, Ominis was quite confused and embarrassed... Until you admitted that his sinister hiss intensifies your natural lubrication.

X = X-Ray

Ominis is slim, with a fine musculature. His skin is clear as porcelain, a constellation of moles stretching from his flank to his pubis. His nipples are the same pink as his lips. Ominis is rather well equipped in terms of length and girth, without being out of the ordinary...

Y = Yearning (libido)

Ominis’ libido was rather low before he met you. With you, however, he finds himself aroused more often than he’d like, which causes him some embarrassment.

Z = Zzz

He never falls asleep before you do. He waits patiently for your breathing to slow down and become slow and deep, etching in his memory the memories of your last lovemaking.

#hogwarts legacy #ominis gaunt #ominis x reader #ominis x you #ominis x mc #hogwarts legacy ominis #ominis smut #ominis gaunt smut #ominis gaunt headcanon #ominis gaunt fic #hogwarts legacy fanfiction #parseltongue #ominis gaunt imagine

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ravenelyx · 6 months

Note

Hello! Do you take requests? If so I have oke for you :)

It’s similar to the recent one about Sebastian hugging the reader. Could it be with Omi this time?

I love your writings, btw.

I absolutely can !!! And thank you so much ♡♡

Let me in. - Ominis Gaunt

Pairing: Ominis Gaunt x Fem!Reader

Words: 1k

Warnings: fluff, kissing, angst and comfort, Ominis is touch-starved, Ominis is insecure, neck kissing, fuck the Gaunt family all my homies hate the Gaunt family, we all know Omi's past, cuddling and snuggling, House is not specified, (implied) established relationship

Summary: Ominis Gaunt has never learned how to love. But he has you, and you're willing to teach him.

A/N: I hope you like this!! I followed a different tangent than Sebastian's.

Masterlist

you can find the whole fic here on ao3 as well

Sebastian's version

He wishes love were easy.

But nothing had ever been easy in Ominis Gaunt's life.

When he opened his heart to her, he opened something deep. A Pandora box of sorrow and grief and everything he'd buried so deep he'd forgotten about it.

Unfortunately, his body never forgets. It shows when she takes his hand. It unleashes when she brushes his hair. That gnawing, scorching flame burning where her touch remains.

She asks him how he's doing, he doesn't answer, words trapped behind his teeth like in a prison of jelly and guilt. He thinks she doesn't really want to be bothered by his problems.

She takes his hand while walking, he moves it away, clutching it to his chest in an attempt to build back that armor she threatens to break every time.

"Ominis," she speaks quietly in the night, when he keeps her always at an arm's distance. "Please, come here."

He wants to cry.

"I don't know how."

The smell of her hair lingers on the pillow when she leaves, and he quietly brings it to him, burying his face in the softness of her girly perfume. Even then, he feels too much freedom; taking up a space that isn't his own. He turns his back to it.

She seems tired today.

"Ominis." Her voice is weary, sad. She's near the fireplace, brooding. He feels like he's done something wrong.

"What is it?"

He balks before approaching her, his voice coming out in a sycophantic squeak that makes his blood run cold. He is afraid: afraid she'll find him some day. That she'll offer her hand and he'll take it with no qualms, allowing her to pull him up, away from those doubts cramming his mind when she gets too close.

"Why do you never let me in?"

He's drowning.

Why? Why? The answer is immediate, pulled right from his brain by that tight awareness that has always been more of a curse than a blessing. Because Ominis Gaunt feels that he is phrogging in other people's existence until they get tired and throw him into the nearest garbage. Because he has never found a place where he could sit down, wind his legs and feel at peace. Because if one day someone finds him with his defenses down, when he hits the bottom of the bin headfirst, he will never forgive himself.

"I don't know how." His inveterate answer comes, drawing a sigh from her. She always drops the subject after, and he feels safe.

This time, she breaches the armor again, and he has got no time to glue it back.

"Come here."

His hands tremble when he follows, sitting down next to her. She opens her palm to him and he feels it on his leg.

"Take it."

Her fingers feel soft to the touch, slipping between his as if filling up a space in his heart he had missed, pushing back his doubts and making a home for itself. He holds her hand and runs his thumb on her knuckles.

"What does this mean?" He asks feebly.

"That you can do much more."

He feels the corner of his lips push down in a grimace. "I don't know h—"

"I'll show you."

Her movements are languid and elegant like a snake, and he feels like she might strangle him and cut his breath and leave him for dead. But he wants to keep holding her hand.

"What do I do?"

"Come here."

This time, he listens.

She lets him move first, wrap his arms around her, as if testing her shape. He runs his hands over her delicate ribs, then down to the soft curve of her waist, then around her; feels the weight in his arms, like she could crush him at any moment. But she doesn't.

She lets him pull her on him, giving him her body. His hands are shaking and he feels inadequate to hold her; to keep her safe and not let her fall.

"Just do what feels right," she whispers.

None of this feels right. But it feels comfortable, and it feels different, and it feels like his heart is slowing down and his weight is meeting the ground and pushing against it like he will never need to get up anymore.

And there are her lips. He feels them with his fingertips; the curve at the top, the soft flesh, the sticky texture of her lipstick. He brings his trembling mouth to hers for the first time and pulls away just as quickly.

"I'm sorry…" he almost cries again.

"Do it again."

He swallows and pushes his lips against hers. He doesn't have the courage to move and breathes against her mouth.

She giggles and his heart breaks, because of course he was doing it wrong. "I'm sorr—"

Her mouth moves against his, takes his bottom lip in a quick suckle and then frees it again. He holds his breath until he can't stay still anymore.

"How does that feel?" she asks.

"More…"

Something inside him cracks open at her taste, pushes and pulls and crushes him, and he holds on to her. It's all too much and it's all not enough. He licks his lips and tastes her lipstick and he wishes he could see her.

When she cups his cheek, he flinches.

"This feels…"

Horrible. Good. Terrifying. Perfect. Different.

"We can go slow," she says, and it's more than he could ask for. "But I'm here, and I'm yours."

He nods and attempts to find her, and he presses his forehead against her collarbone. She's warm there.

"Thank you," He's crying against her skin, and she skims her hand against his back.

He feels naked, a brush of cold hair against his chest where his defenses have cracked. She's pulling his armor down with a gentle touch, and he lets her until he hears it hit the ground loudly.

"You can relax now." He thinks he hears her say. Perhaps it was a dream. And when he hesitantly brushes his lips against her skin, he allows her in.

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wedonthaveawhile · 2 months

Text

Ominis investigates a tapping at the common room window.

#hogwarts legacy #ominis gaunt #ominis #ominis fanart #ominis fic #mermaid #hogwarts school of witchcraft and wizardry #hogwarts mermaids #the black lake

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orqheuss · 1 year

Text

In the pursuit of knowledge

(Ominis/F!Reader SMUT)

Summary:

“Have you ever been kissed, Ominis?”

***

It's after curfew, and you and Ominis are tipsy on firewhiskey in the Undercroft. The sexual tension is heavy in the air-- what are two teenagers secretly in love to do?

Ao3 link here

Smut based on a drawing by @gangstagandalf

“Have you ever been kissed, Ominis?”

You were lying on the floor of the Undercroft, your legs crossed in front of you and your hands resting on your abdomen as you gazed upwards. A small smile creased your face as you asked the blond next to you the question that had been on your mind since the firewhiskey entered your system a few hours ago, your foot lightly tapping his where they touched. Ominis was leaning against one of the many columns in the space, his head resting heavily against the stone and his legs stretched as well, forming an L shape with your bodies. You both were pleasantly tipsy by this point, a soft warmth filling your bodies and a lovely little fog swirling through your minds. Sebastian had left not long ago, claiming that he was off to his bedchambers to sleep off his inevitable hangover; you had a sneaking suspicion that he was actually going to go bother a particular brunette Hufflepuff with a soft spot for beasts, though.

The boy pondered this for a moment, his eyebrows furrowing at his brow. He swirled the bottle of whiskey in his hand around, tapping the base of it against his thigh. A hum left his closed lips before he spoke. “No, never really had the inclination to.” He leaned forward slightly, raising the bottle to his lips and taking a small drag of the amber liquid before letting gravity pull him back towards the pillar with a thump. He sighed heavily and closed his eyes. “Many have tried, but it didn’t feel right.”

A look of confusion passed over your face, your lips tweaking into a small frown as you raised up to your elbows. “What do you mean?”

He lazed his head towards your direction, eyes still closed but a close-lipped smile creeping up his cheeks. “I always thought my first kiss should be with someone I cared deeply for— maybe even loved, if it came to that. My parents have tried to set me up a numerous amount of times, but I didn’t feel anything for the girls they introduced me to.” He turned away from you again, his eyes opening and staring unseeing at the arched ceiling. “I want all the feelings people talk about— the butterflies, the fireworks, the encompassing warmth, not just my name signed next to some random woman that my mother deemed ‘appropriate’ for me so we can keep the bloodline strong.” He cleared his throat, swallowing around the sudden nervousness that rested there. “What about you? Has there been anyone?”

You hummed in thought, nodding along with his words. “I’ve been waiting for the same, though I can’t say I’ve had many strong contenders.”

You watched as a chuckle took over his visage, his perfect teeth glowing in the candlelight and his shoulders lightly shaking with mirth. “Yes, I imagine there aren’t many good choices in our current pool of suitors.”

A snort blew out of your nose against your consent, your expression twisting into one that said “no shit.” “Agreed. Most only want one thing anyway, and if I haven’t kissed anyone yet I’m certainly not doing that. At least, not with just anyone.”

Ominis made a sound of annoyance in the back of his throat, the smile falling from his face as fast as it appeared and his eyebrows pinching downwards. “If those neanderthals only care about getting their dick wet, they don’t deserve your time.”

You laughed loudly, the crassness of his words startling you. After a few moments, he joined you with his own sounds of joy, ending with both of you breathing heavily and a rosy flush across your cheeks. Your hazy, intoxicated eyes floated over to his form, taking a moment in the calm to drink him in entirely. Nearly everyone knew that you liked the blond boy— everyone except him, of course. No matter how many times you’ve tried to hint at your feelings, each one completely went over his head. Some had told you to just give up, that he was never going to get it or he was just trying to spare your feelings by ignoring your advances, but you truly couldn’t help it; the boy was beautiful inside and out. It certainly didn’t help your hunger for him that he had decided it was too hot earlier and undone the first few buttons of his shirt, unknotting his tie in the process and leaving it loose around his neck. You took in his birth marks first, tracing each and every little dot from the corner of his eye, down the tops of his collarbones, all the way to his long, lithe fingers still wrapped around the neck of the square shaped bottle. Merlin, even his fingernails were lovely; you had never admired the small details of someone before him— how his elbows sat outside of his rolled up sleeves, the length of his golden eyelashes, the curve and pale pink color of his cupids brow. Your eyes danced over the curve of his mouth, wishing desperately to know what he tasted like. Would he be sweet, like the candies he loved so much? Would he be bitter like the firewhiskey on his breath? Or would he be something entirely new, something you had never tasted before? Your cheeks burned at the thought. Moving slowly upwards his face, you got caught on the sharpness of his cheekbones next. One wrong move and you could cut yourself on those ridges. You thought that would be a beautiful reason to bleed. Trailing up the soft curve of his ear, you admired his flaxen hair under the low lighting. The tiny blazes of the floating wicks caught each strand growing from his scalp and transformed them into spools of pure golden silk. You wondered if it was as soft as it looked— if it would look as pretty grasped between your fingers, if the light would catch it the same from between your thighs—

Your heartbeat stuttered in your chest, a familiar warmth growing in your lower stomach.

Cutting off your lewd thoughts, you snapped your eyes to his, watching the pale blue irises dance in the firelight. They were almost ethereal— otherworldly, you would say. There was something about the color that drew you in like a moth to a flame. Or maybe it was the sparkle that resided inside, the hidden spark of mischief that rarely saw the light of day? Either way, you could stare into those eyes all day if he would let you. You didn’t know if it was the alcohol in your system or something about the intimacy of the situation at hand, but you wanted to swim in that blue. You wanted to jump in and dive all the way to the bottom of his mini-oceans. Drowning in his eyes would be your favorite way to go.

Your eyes flickered between his eyes and his lips, your tongue poking out to wet yours as you pondered your next move. Crawling up to your knees, you shuffled towards the boy, reaching your hand out for the whiskey in his grasp. You gently unwound his fingers from the neck, minutely shuddering from the dizzying spark that passed between your hands touching, and took a long drag. Ominis laughed at the little cough that escaped from you, his hand reaching up and smoothing his hair before flopping downwards and landing right on your thigh. His fingers slid dangerously under the hem of your skirt, smoothing against the tops of your thigh-high socks. Color spread across your face and down your neck at the pure heat that radiated from his palm— a matching blush stretching across the boys cheeks just the same. Even still, he made no move to change his grip, going as far as to squeeze the skin between his fingers unconsciously.

You swallowed roughly, your gulp near audible as you lifted your own hand into the air, letting it hover for a moment with nerves before steeling yourself and letting it fall atop of his. Pure need burned under your skin. Perhaps it was time to be more direct in your approach.

Clearing your throat, you leaned slightly closer to the very handsome Slytherin. “Ominis, you’d say we’re friends, correct?”

Confusion creased his face, a question dangling at the tip of his tongue. “Yes, you know you’re my closest friend besides Sebastian. Why?”

You shift closer, causing the both of your hands to slip further up your skin. The blond swallowed thickly, shifting slightly to alleviate the pressure building in his pants.

“Would you say you care for me?”

Ominis can smell the tension in the air around the both of you. He inhales it deeply, his eyes fluttering closed at the enticingness of it. His voice comes out as a stuttering breath. “Y-yes, you could say that.” Care was definitely putting it lightly— he had been smitten with you for Merlin knows how long.

In a bold movement, you shifted your weight and threw one of your legs to the other side of his, straddling his hips and pressing your heat against his thigh. His other hand shot up to hold you still at the waist. Both of you were panting, heaving breaths mingling in the space between your faces. Your hands came up to drape around his shoulders, one of your thumbs smoothing back and forth on the skin creeping out from under his starched collar. Leaning forward a bit more, your nose brushed against his, igniting the fireworks in your chest and sending your eyes fluttering shut. There were mere inches between the two of you— one move and you would fall into the sweet oblivion of his kiss.

The boy could hear your heart pounding in your chest; It was a comfort to know that you were just as nervous as he was. His grip tightened at your waist as his thumb mimicked the motions on his neck at the center of your thigh. He could feel himself getting excited where the both of you were connected, and his heart skipped a beat when your lips very lightly brushed against his— barely a touch but still so very tantalizing.

Your words were nothing more than a breath. “Can I kiss you, Ominis?”

He loved how his name sounded on your lips.

A low groan came from his chest, his voice thick with desire. “Please.”

And then there was no more space between the both of you. The kiss was gentle— lips carefully caressing against lips like two fragile pieces of glass. It felt like you were made to kiss him. Neither of you moved in fear of scaring the other away, your bodies stiff and hands trembling where they rested. After a moment you separated, breathing shakily against the other while your foreheads rested together. Ominis’ hands squeezed you harder, pressing his fingerprints into your skin and accidentally dragging his still moving thumb to your inner thigh. You sighed, a small moan humming in the back of your throat.

It was like a switch flipped in the blond at the sound— a primal hunger waking up inside of him at the sound of your pleasure. His lips surged forwards again, capturing yours in a searing kiss for the second time. He pressed you tightly to him, the hand on your thigh moving even farther up your skirt, passing over your bottom and pressing at your lower back. The other moved from your waist up to your head, weaving his fingers through your hair and gripping at your roots. You keened against him at the sudden pain, rolling your hips in search of a delicious friction you’d never known before. The blond’s tongue ran along your bottom lip, drawing a gasp from your throat and opening you up to his invasion. The absolutely sinful sounds of your tongues pressing together sent a shiver of arousal down your spine. Your hand snaked up the side of his neck, slithering into his golden locks and harshly tugging his head back so you could get to the supple skin at his collar. He hissed, mouth falling open in pleasure as you attacked the skin where his shoulder connected to his neck, leaving open mouthed kisses in the wake of each of your love bites. The hand at your back slid down and grabbed hold of your ass, grinding you down on his hard length and sending a tumbling moan from the both of your mouths.

The fingers tangled in your hair tugged you back lightly, dragging your face from his flesh and forcing you to meet his eyes. His pupils were blown out to their full size, the cicle of black nearly taking over the entirety of the soft blue pools in lust. His chest was heaving as he struggled to push air into his lungs and speak at the same time. “Wait— I need to know that you actually want to do this.” It felt like all of the air had been sucked out of your chest at the vulnerable look in his eyes. He was bearing his whole soul to you. “Call me selfish if you wish, but if we continue down this path I do not think I will be able to stop myself. Please tell me you want this as much as I do— that you burn for me as much as I burn for you.”

You breathed a laugh against his open lips, grabbing at the ends of his tie and pulling him closer once again. “I crave you more than I have ever craved anything else in this world.”

You cut off his sigh of relief with your mouth, teeth clashing together from the velocity. You use your hips to slightly rotate the both of you, pushing Ominis’ body backwards with your chest until you were lying back on the cold stone ground. He chuckled against you, biting your lip and pulling gently.

“Eager little minx, aren’t you?” You wanted to kiss that smug look from his face.

Your hands began to unbutton the rest of his shirt, leaning close and just teasing your lips on his neck. You felt wonderful against him. “May as well move to the next step— the pursuit of knowledge awaits no man.”

His barking laugh filled the chasmous space around you, ricocheting off the walls and echoing back to you before it was swallowed by a surprised moan from your teeth digging sharply into his collarbone, your hips rolling downwards in tandem. His large hands squeezed the flesh of your thighs, trembling in hesitation and restraint; he wanted nothing more than to grab you by the hips and drag you down across his throbbing length. You had similar plans it seemed as you pulled back and began unbuttoning your shirt. Ominis quickly captured your lips again, replacing your hands with his and all but ripping the fabric from your form, leaning upwards slightly on his elbows and shucking his own shirt from his body. You undid the button of your skirt as well, leaving you in just your underclothes. You moved to pull the long socks from your feet but a hand stopped you, a growl filled with pure, unfiltered want sending a pulse directly to your already dripping core.

“Leave them on.”

You frantically nodded, dropping your weight back onto his lap and grinding against him again. The sweet, sanguine sounds of each moan you dragged from his bruised throat furthered your movements. Incredibly annoyed at the fact that he still has trousers on, you reached your hands down and began to undo his belt, threading the leather through the buckle and tossing it in the direction of the rest of your clothes. You wanted to lick, to taste every single inch of his skin. Your fingers ghosted at the area where you connected, dragging your fingertips along his hard member and drawing an absolutely lewd whimper from his kiss-bruised mouth.

You whispered against the skin of his chest, taking one of nipples between your teeth and lightly biting. “May I?”

Ominis didn’t care what you were asking for, as long as you didn’t stop. “Fuck— yes, stars, please.”

Him begging for your touch was doing something to you.

You smiled against his ribs, pressing kisses to every freckle and mole you could find as you drifted downwards to his needy manhood. If someone were to tell Ominis that he died and had gone to heaven, he would have believed them— there was no way this was actually happening. A rouged blush dressed his entire body when he felt your fingers drag along the waistband of his trousers, your nails kissing his skin before popping open the button and dragging down the zipper. He lifted his hips to help you, hissing as you pulled his trousers and pants down to his knees and letting the cold air of his secret hideaway brush against his smoldering skin. His cock stood at attention in front of your eyes, the tip a brilliant pink and precum leaking from his slit. Your hot and heavy makeout session really got him going.

You licked your lips, your eyes trailing a particularly prominent vein along the underside. “Merlin, you’re beautiful.��

The praise drew another whine from his throat, and he threw one of his hands over his mouth to muffle the sound in embarrassment. You must have put some sort of spell on him, there was no way these sounds were voluntarily leaving him. You nipped at his hipbone in a warning, trailing your finger along the vein that was currently fascinating you.

“No muffling yourself, my love. Let me hear you— I love your voice so much.”

He hesitantly removed his hand from his mouth, choosing instead to run it through his hair and mess it up even more while his other hand reached down and threaded in your own locks.

You smiled wryly against the skin of his thigh. “Good boy.”

You punctuated your words with your tongue, dragging the appendage along the length of his twitching cock and drawing a long, thunderous moan from the boy below you. My, what lovely sounds he made. You smiled, pressing a kiss to his weeping tip before opening your mouth and taking him into your throat one inch at a time.

He made a choking sound in the back of his throat, pleasure flooding his system. “Fuuuck, you’re lips feel so good around me, darling.”

Darling. The pet name only spurred you along even more, your eyebrows knitting together as you fought against your gag reflex to fit even more of him into your awaiting throat. You were going to take him all the way to the hilt.

A stream of moans and grunts fell from Ominis’ throat as you bobbed your head up and down, finding a rhythm that works for the both of you. His fingers tightened in your hair, struggling against his need to grab your head and fuck into your throat. It wasn’t like he hadn’t experimented sexually before, he was a teenage boy after all. Masturbation was normal at this point in his life, but his hand never felt this good. Each bob of your head, each twist of your tongue along his length, sent a bolt of electricity down his spine and directly to the spot in his lower stomach where a knot of pleasure was forming. You lifted off of him with a pop, heaving air into your lungs and tonguing at his slit, and the blond saw stars. He wasn’t going to last much longer at this rate; his orgasm was fast approaching with every flick of your heavenly muscle. You took a deep breath, preparing yourself for something as you inhaled and exhaled headily from your nose. He was about to ask what you were doing when you took him back into your mouth in his entirety, sliding his cock down your throat and letting your nose rest against the curls at the base. He couldn’t stop the sounds that came from him, each one higher pitched and more needy than the last. Ominis tugged at your hair, trying to pull you off before he finished.

“W-wait— Shit, I’m so close. Please, fuck, I’m gonna cum, wait—”

You didn’t listen, digging your nails into his hips and holding on for dear life. Your throat pulsated around him as you struggled to not gag, drawing a particularly loud and high pitch whimper from the blond. You reached down and thumbed at his taut sack, and he was a goner. A hiss that sounded distinctly like your name flew from his open mouth as he shot down your throat. You swallowed around him, licking at his slit for every last drop and pulling overstimulated keens from your lover’s throat. He yanked you off of him, an absolutely glorious blush covering the entirety of his body. You watched his chest heave up and down for a moment before you made your way back up to his face, smoothing your hand over his cheek and pushing the sweaty hair off of his temple before capturing his lips into a kiss. Ominis squeezed you as tight as he possibly could to his chest. You couldn’t help grinding against his softening dick, coating it with the slick that had begun to seep through the crotch of your panties and run down your leg. The Slytherin hissed between his teeth, grabbing your neck lightly and pulling you away. You chased his mouth and he chuckled.

“I can’t decide if you were sent here to save me, or kill me.”

He could feel your chuckle against his palm. “Why can’t I do both?”

He hooked one of his legs around yours, using the leverage to flip you over and press your back against the floor. Your mouth dropped open in pleasure from the feeling of his fingers tightening around your larynx. Ominis chuckled again, feeling your heartbeat pick up against where his thumb was on your pulse point.

“Oh, you like that? We’ll explore that more text time, I think.”

Next time. You liked the sound of a next time.

He ghosted his hand down your chest, grabbing at your still clothed breast and kneading the flesh, and it was your turn to whimper. Ominis wasted no time reaching behind you and struggling with the clasp of your bra, curses falling from his lips in annoyed desperation. Just as you were about to help him, he retracted his hands and instead wrapped his hands around the band, growling in frustration.

“Blasted thing—”

With a hard yank, he ripped the fabric of your bra and tossed it across the room into some unknown corner. You opened your mouth to protest when he crashed his lips to yours, pawing at your now free breasts and drawing little whines from your chest.

“I’ll buy you a new one.”

The pretty blond kissed down your neck, leaving a scattering of bruises like you did to him before making his way to your heaving chest, taking one of your nipples into his mouth and tweaking it with the tip of his tongue. You ran your hands through his hair in utter bliss, soft hums breaching the space around you. He let go of your peak with a sinful pop, drawing your attention to him as his other hand slid down to the waistband of your panties. Ominis pressed a kiss above your heart, letting his finger run along the underside of your final piece of clothing and listening to your breath hitch. That vulnerable look was back in his eyes.

“I want to return the favor. Please, please let me taste you.”

His sweet words were making your head spin more than the firewhiskey ever could. You made a noise of affirmative, not trusting your voice at the moment, and thread your fingers through his hair again. It truly was as soft as it looked. The blond smiled, his grin full of teeth and like he had just won the lottery, before he kissed his way down your stomach, stopping at your underwear and mouthing hotly at your hipbones. You whined in impatience, and he laughed against your skin before taking the hem of your panties and pulling them down your legs, kicking off the rest of his clothes in the process. Your breathing got increasingly shallow as he threw your legs over his shoulders, his lips pressing against the skin of your inner thighs and biting darker hickies in a spot no one else would see. He got closer and closer to your throbbing center, inhaling your heady scent and nearly losing his last little bit of composure. He looked up at you though his eyelashes, gazing at you like he could actually see how disheveled you were.

“I need you to tell me what to do, can you do that?”

You nodded, pulling lightly at his roots. He bit the mound of skin above where you wanted him.

“Words please, dove.”

You swallowed thickly. “Y-yes, I can do that.”

He smiled, turning your words from earlier back on you. “Good girl.”

A loud mewl spilled from you as he licked a hot stripe along your folds, the tip of his tongue catching on your clit and painting your vision white. He pulled back with an agonized groan.

“You’re so wet, my darling. Did I do this? Merlin, help me.”

He dove back into your sacred place, lapping at you like a man in a drought. You directed him to the best of your ability, telling him what spots made you see stars and the perfect rhythm to make you come undone. He was a quick learner, and soon you were writhing under him in the throes of pleasure. He had his lips wrapped around the bundle of nerves atop your privates, flicking his tongue every so often and sucking as his fingers teased your entrance. Whimpers of curses and his name streamed from your chest like a waterfall. Ominis carefully pressed one of his fingers into you, giving it an experimental thrust in and out, and your back arched off the ground in a desperate attempt to get closer as your thighs clamped tightly against his ears, suffocating him in your sweet center. You were a siren, and he was but a simple sailor entrapped by your hypnotizing song. What a lovely way to die.

Groans of satisfaction sent vibrations through your entire body, dragging you closer and closer to your release.

You keened feebly, begging the boy making you feel this good— for what, you weren’t sure. “Please, Ominis—”

He groaned again, and the knot in your lower stomach got impossibly tighter as he pressed a second finger into you and curled, pressing his fingertips into that delicious place that you had never been able to reach when you were alone in your dorm room. Incoherent whimpers screamed from your throat at the sheer bliss that flowed through your body, your hips wiggling sporadically as he scissored his fingers and prepared you for his length. One particularly hard bit of suction on your clit had you tumbling, your orgasm rocking through you like a speeding bullet and sending blinding fireworks through your brain. Ominis smiled as he worked you through your finish, proud of himself for making you cum on the first try. You tugged at his hair, pulling him up from between your legs and crashing your lips together in need. You could taste the saltiness of your slick on his tongue and you moaned into his mouth. The head of his cock pressed against your entrance, slipping through your folds and sliding slightly inside. You both groaned at the feeling, your fingernails digging into the blond’s shoulders at the minute sting. Ominis pressed his forehead to yours, trying to steady his breathing and heartbeat and whispered against your lips.

“Are you sure you want this, my love?”

You nodded your head, a plea slipping out. “Yes.”

He moaned at how needy you sounded— needy and cock-drunk for him. He kissed you, spilling all of the love he felt for you into it.

“Please tell me if you want to stop; I don’t want to hurt you.”

You huffed, “Why would I ever want to stop?”

You both moaned loudly as he breached your walls, pushing his hot member into your equally sweltering core inch by inch. Your eyebrows scrunched together at the pressure, and Ominis kissed the pain away as he got deeper and deeper. Finally he bottomed out inside of you, and you both stilled for a moment to get used to the feeling. You had never felt so full before, it was like he was touching every part of your body at once. Everything was simultaneously overwhelming and not enough. The blond dug his fingers into your hips as he warded away his encroaching orgasm; he didn’t want to finish before he could even savor the feeling of you wrapped tightly around him. You squeezed his shoulders, giving him the signal that he can start moving, and he began thrusting in and out of you at a carefully slow pace. It was like nothing you had ever felt before— the pleasure was immeasurable. How people weren't doing this every second of the day, you weren't sure. You craned your neck down to were you both were connected and you couldn't help the harlequin moan that ripped from your throat. Whatever you were doing before this moment in your life was a waste— every moment not connected to Ominis Gaunt was an absolute waste. You wrapped your legs around his hips, pressing him deeper inside of you and drawing a growl from Ominis’ very soul. He picked his speed up as his orgasm crept up on him again, needing to feel you finish around him more than anything.

"Merlin, you feel so good around me— like you were made to take my cock."

His uncouth words went straight to your core.

Your mewls and moans filled the room; he was glad the Undercroft was so far under the school, lest someone would have definitely heard your screams of ecstasy. His fingers dug deeper into your flesh, definitely leaving bruises that will only get darker the next day, and slammed his hips against yours. His own wanton moans sang along with yours as the knot in his stomach tightened. You could feel how close he was from the stutter in his rhythm, and you reached your hand between the both of you and rubbed at your clit, pushing your own finish closer to the surface. In a rush of animalistic desire, Ominis leaned forwards and sunk his teeth into your shoulder, giving you the last push you needed to spill over the side of the precipice. Your orgasm crested over the edge, dyeing your vision a stark black as your eyes rolled into the back of your head. You squeezed impossibly tighter around the blond’s thrusting cock, sending stars to the forefront of his mind for the second time that night and causing him to speed up his thrusts even more, chasing his own orgasm as you milked the life from him. His hips grew sporadic at the feeling of your tight cunt swallowing him whole, bringing his finish just out of reach. He panted against your shoulder, holding you against his chest as he whimpered.

“W-where do you want me t-to—”

You cut off his sentence, the throes of your orgasm still shocking through your system. “Inside me. Please, Ominis, I want to feel you fill me— I’m on the potion— Fuck, please!”

That was enough to send him over, his orgasm crashing over him like a tsunami as he spilled his life force deep inside of you. He thrust a few more times inside of you, prolonging his bliss before he stilled, both of you heaving air into your lungs like you would never breathe it again. He rolled off of you, dropping his whole exhausted body weight to the floor and pulling you against his chest. You rested there for a moment, basking in the glow of your first time and listening to the rapid pulse of the blond’s heartbeat. It sang to you a sweet lullaby, lulling you to sleep in the comfort of your lover’s arms. Ominis sighed, completely content for once in his life.

“I have wanted to do that for so long, you have no idea.”

Your head shot up in shock, your jaw dropping nearly down to your chest. “You mean we could have been doing that this whole time?!”

His eyes widened at your shout, processing your words for a moment before a blush spread down his neck again. He brought his hand up to his face, covering it in embarrassment as he laughed at how stupid the both of you were. You joined him after a moment, your head bouncing up and down against his vibrating chest. Once your cackles pittered off to soft chuckles, he pulled you closer, pressing a kiss to your temple and running his fingers through your hair.

“I guess we need to make up for lost time, wouldn’t you agree?”

You shuffled your body upwards, dangling your face over his and bringing your lips close for another sugary kiss. “Indeed we do.”

***

like what you read? here's more!

#tina speaks #smut #hl smut #hogwarts legacy #hl #ominis gaunt smut #hogwarts legacy mc #ominis gaunt x reader #ominis gaunt x you #ominis gaunt x mc #ao3 #ao3 fic #ao3 writer #ominis gaunt #ominis hogwarts legacy #masterlist

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celerydays · 2 months

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I recently had the chance to be part of a Sebinis Big Bang event and illustrate for a fic written by @trappezoider! ✨

Please give this beautifully written and amazing fic a read and some well-deserved love! 🥹🤌 It was so much fun creating the art for this story and I'm honored to have been invited to participate amongst such a great crowd of talented writers and artists 🥰

#hogwarts legacy #hogwarts legacy fanart #ominis gaunt #sebastian sallow #sebinis #gauntlow #trappezoider #celdraws #celerydays #hl #hl art #hl fic

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pmwritesandpoems · 6 months

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A Timeless Hogwarts Legacy: Whatever It Takes (10/16)

Fandom: Hogwarts Legacy Main Title: A Timeless Hogwarts Legacy Pairing: Ominis Gaunt/Original Female Character Tags: Romance; Hurt/Comfort; Angst; Fluff; Friendship; Mutual Pining; Slow Burn

Chapter: 10/16 Title: Whatever It Takes Word Count: 19.401 (wow)

Last Chapters: AO3 (All Chapters) Tumblr (Up to chapter 7, chapter 8 and so on will only be posted on AO3)

Notes:

First of all, I want to apologize for the very late update. Life happened and hit me quite hard in the last few months. But it's been okay, so far. Thank you to everyone who patiently waited for update in this fic. I will keep trying to finish this story, considering that I already have a complete plan for the end and I wanted to see it till the end as well. But I ask you from the bottom of my heart to understand that in the future, this story will be updated for a longer time than before because I still want to give the best to you. As a final word for this note, thank you for still reading this story till now.

Love, PM.

Enjoy!

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fierymiasma · 1 year

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❀ And You Look Fetching in Yellow ❀ // Sebastian Sallow x f!MC

Summary: Hogwarts couples exchange scarves to signify their intention with each other. Unfortunately for Sebastian, MC is new to the whole magic thing.

It's been weeks since Sebastian had gifted her his scarf. And yet nothing romantic has happened between them.

How was she supposed to know that she had to give him something in return?

Part 1: You Look Better In Green

♪ Tags: Slight Dark!Sebastian, angst, sadness, manipulation, making out, heartbreak

Word Count: 5k

|| Masterlist || AO3 ||

"Did you see what the new girl was wearing?"

"Obviously, do I look like I live under a troll's bridge? The whole school is talking about it!"

Sebastian preened, sitting a bit straighter in his seat. He had been lounging on a bench with Ominis in the Dark Arts Tower, bored out of his mind. About ten paces away, a gaggle of 3rd year girls were giggling and loudly whispering amongst themselves. The student body of Hogwarts never had anything better to do then to guess who started courting who. Sebastian had never cared much about this (often incorrect) news, having always found it dull.

But it was looking like Hogwarts was just about to get bit more interesting.

"What was she wearing?" one of the shorter girls asked.

"She was wearing a Slytherin scarf!" another whispered conspiratiously as if it was an unspeakable secret.

There were gasps around the group. The new Hufflepuff student? Wearing Slytherin's green and silver scarf? It could only mean one thing.

"Ohhhh, she's seeing from someone from Slytherin." There was much fervent whispering.

"I bet so many hearts are crushed now. Someone finally got to her first."

Sebastian couldn't' help but puff out his chest. Finally, in his time as a 6th year at Hogwarts, the natural order of things were being corrected. No longer did he have to worry seeing his Hufflepuff in ugly red and yellow.

"Who do you reckon gave it to her?" one of the Ravenclaws bounced on the tip of her toes.

"Well, there's not that many Slytherin boys that she associates herself with."

Sebastian grinned. He leaned back against the wall, crossing his hands behind his head. He was constantly next to her side whether that meant on the battlefield or at the library. His devotion to her had most definitely discouraged any potential suitors who thought they were worthy of wasting her time. An effortless arm thrown around her shoulder. His coarse hand tucking a strand of hair behind her ears. His chin resting on her much shorter head. Now that the whole school knew that the most amazing girl in all of Hogwarts history was his, Sebastian's worries could finally-

"I heard from someone in Charms that it's Ominis."

Sebastian stilled. What?

There were squeals of delight.

"Of course! That makes so much sense! They look so cute together!"

Sebastian scowled. No they didn't.

"Awww, I'm so happy for them. I bet he swept her off her feet!"

"It's the eyes isn't it? All the Gaunt kids have those gorgeous eyes."

In Sebastian's personal opinion, blue eyes were incredibly overrated.

"That makes so much sense! They're always in the library studying together."

One of their voices took a cheekily tone. "Studying? Is that what the kids are calling it now a days?"

Yes, Ominis and his Hufflepuff were always studying together, only because Sebastian invited both of his best friends to his study session.

The group of girls all squealed bouncing up and down like a group of Puffskeins. They were loud and annoying enough that Professor Hecat had opened the doors to her classroom. With heavy scolding, the professor shooed them outside, to spread their gossip elsewhere in the castle no doubt.

Sebastian felt as though he took a troll club to the head. That was his green scarf around his Hufflepuff. It was Sebastian's scarf that she was wearing every day. Not Garret's. Not Natty's. Not even Ominis's. It was Sebastian's. Turning to stare at his best friend, he was startled to find that Ominis was still engrossed in his book. The other boy looked completely at ease, as if Sebastian's entire life hadn't been entirely upended.

"What," Sebastian spat through gritted teeth, "in Merlin's name, was that all about?"

·͙⁺˚•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙˚⁺‧͙⁺˚•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙˚⁺‧͙⁺˚•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙˚⁺‧͙

The hero of Hogwarts laid on her back like a starfish on the grounds of the Transfiguration courtyard. Having successfully commandeered a quiet corner of the courtyard with Natty and Poppy, she tried her best to relax between classes. Poppy was playing with Gerald. Natty attempted hastily to finish her astronomy homework before the next toll of the bell. The ancient magic user scowled at the bright blue cloudless sky as if it personally had cursed her.

She was still wearing Sebastian's scarf. The new Hufflepuff hadn't taken it off since Sebastian had kindly (or possessively?) wrapped it around her. His signature bergamot and oak scent was starting to fade.

She had learned quite quickly the ins and outs of courting at Hogwarts thanks to her friends. Coming from the muggle world, it was dizzyingly confusing all the fake rules that witches and wizards put upon themselves. She wasn't sure if it was wizard conservatism or teenage boredom that forced the students of Hogwarts to play these stupid courting games.

Wearing another House's colors was a walking advertisement to the rest of Hogwarts that you were officially being pursued by classmate of another House. The second that a Gryffindor was caught wearing green and silver or a Ravenclaw was caught wearing red the whole school would erupt in commotion and gossip.

In her opinion, the student body of Hogwarts needed to go outside more. Experience some of the real world for once.

After all it was their coy games that put her in this whole mess. She thought, as any rational being would, that after a whole year's worth of 'dates', alone, unsupervised, not under the watch of any adult, that something more would come of her relationship with Sebastian. She had hoped by now she would be wrapped in his strong arms with his green scarf wrapped around the both of them, joining them together.

She had thought wrong. Instead, it was the still the same Sebastian. Teasing tone, seductive one-liners, coy looks when he thought she wasn't watching. He always held her at an arm's length, never getting too close. Despite all of his flirty comments, he never made a verbal hint that they were anything more than friends.

Ugh, this was all so maddening. If she had it her way, she would march right up to Sebastian, grab him by the beautiful luscious curls of his, and kiss him silly until he finally got the message through that thick skull of his.

"Why isn't my brilliant plan working?" She whined as she laid beneath the sky, as if hoping it would give her the answers.

"What plan?" Natty asked, not looking up from her astronomy homework. "Your mind has been up in the clouds all day."

She groaned, throwing her arm over her eyes to block out the sun. "Why hasn't Sebastian made a pass at me yet. For Merlin's sake, we went to Three Broomsticks and Sirona gave us her Valentine's Day Special. We shared it, together. Using one spoon, like a couple."

"Have you considered that Sebastian might think you two are actually exclusive?" Poppy interjected. "I mean, you're wearing his scarf. That has to count for something."

The new student groaned. She started ripping the grass next to her in frustration. "I don't think we're dating. At least, I don't think Sebastian Sallow is the type to not snog his girlfriend silly when she drops obvious hints."

Poppy made a show of gagging at the thought of her friends making out. In retaliation, the other Hufflepuff half-hearted threw some of the plucked grass in Poppy's general direction. The strands lamely flew everywhere but their intended target.

Natty sighed, brushing the grassy debris from her astronomy chart. "Honestly, Europe is so behind. Back at home, things were much simpler. Girls do not have to wait for the man to ask them to be in a relationship! Anyone could do the asking! All of this exchanging of clothes is so silly to me. What if two people from the same House start dating? Then what? This makes no sense to me."

Poppy hummed in agreement. "Dating at Hogwarts does seem like such a headache compared to Uganda, Natty. But," she squeezed Gerald tightly, "you can't deny how cute it is when you see the couples together wearing each other clothing. They're so mismatched and adorable." Poppy paused awkwardly. "Come to think of it, I've never seen Sebastian wearing even a hint of yellow."

The air stilled. Both Poppy and Natty turned to stare at their friend who was still in the process of pulling out all of the blades of grass in her vicinity. It was a long awkward moment before the hero of Hogwarts realized that her two good friends were looking at her, expecting a reaction out of the wallowing girl.

"What?" She asked.

Poppy gave her a pitying look. "You…you did give Sebastian your scarf right?"

The new student blinked owlishly, her hands stilled in their destructive action.

Natty sighed. "A hat? Your tie? Cufflinks? Merlin's beard, even your socks would do. Anything?"

For being a wielder of ancient magic, she sure didn't have a clue as to wizarding culture. "Um, no? Was I supposed to?"

Both girls groaned. Natty shook her head, disappointed in the lack of charisma her friend had. Poppy looked at her pitifully as if she was the runt of a Niffler litter.

"What? We're supposed to trade scarves? Who made up that rule? Is that why Sebastian hasn't made a move on me?"

"YES!" The other girls replied, getting fed up with the drama.

"No one told me about this!"

The three girls bickered back and forth, homework now entirely forgotten. So lost in debate, they missed the Slytherin that was approaching them.

Imelda Reyes, captain of the Slytherin team, stood in front of them, interrupting the trio of girls. "Oh good, the losers are all gathered together." She looked rather bored as if she would rather be on the field than here.

Poppy frowned. Gerald stuck his tongue out at the offending girl. "Imelda, why do you keep calling your only friends at Hogwarts losers?"

Imelda ignored the remark, flipped her hair behind her shoulders. "It keeps the fans in line. Got to remind you lot of your place."

The Slytherin girl turned her sights onto the other Hufflepuff who was still wallowing in the grass in self-pity. "Anyway, I came to collect on my good deed. Some token of appreciation would be nice. Even a thanks would do."

The Hufflepuff sighed. She pinched her nose in frustration at the annoyance that was Imelda Reyes. Rolling over to her side, she faced the Slytherin captain. She propped up her chin on her hand. Nothing that Imelda ever have to share was interesting. "Imelda, what is it now? Why should I be groveling at your feet for this time?"

"You should be thanking me for saving your relationship with Sallow." Imelda nonchalantly stated.

The new girl spluttered, her chin slipping off of her hand and hitting the ground. She made a pained noise, rubbing at the growing bruise. "Excuse me?"

"You heard me." Imelda inspected her glossy green nails. "It's painful to see you two fumbling about like Quidditch little league toddlers. I just gave a gentle nudge in the right direction."

The bottom of her stomach was in free-fall. Imelda "helping" was never a good thing, despite what the Slytherin believed. "Imelda, what did you do?"

Imelda grinned. "Oh, you know, just started a rumor that Ominis was the one who gave you the scarf."

She finally sat up. Bits of grass stick to the Hufflepuff's hair. "Why on earth would you do that, Imelda? The whole school is going to think that Ominis is courting me!"

"Indeed."

Natty frowned. "I have to admit. I do not see the game you are trying to play. How does that help our friend?"

Imelda rolled her eyes. It was sometimes frustrating being the only Slytherin of their girl group. They were so slow to stack the odds to get what they wanted. They were so narrow-minded as they achieved their goals, seeing only a couple paths towards victory instead of the millions of possibilities Imelda always saw.

"Boys like Sallow are easy to manipulate. Start a rumor that his best friend is seeing the love of his life, and the boy will make sure to do everything in his power to correct the record." Imelda flicked off a speck of dirt on her otherwise well-polished nails. "He'll come crawling back to you in a week tops."

Poppy oo'ed in approval, clapping excitedly at the new development. Natty shot her a judging look. Poppy dropped her "oo's" to a respectful volume.

The other Hufflepuff gaped in silence, at a loss for words. "Sebastian's one of the smartest people I know. He can pick up even the most difficult spells on the first try." She crossed her arms. "He's too smart to fall for your tricks, Imelda."

Her compatriots were silent. Natty, Poppy, and Imelda ginned and looked at each other deviously. Poppy was the first to bust out in laughter, causing the other two to join in. The offended girl scowled behind her green scarf, annoyed.

The Hufflepuff rolled her eyes. "You all think so low of him. I'm telling you, Sebastian's not the type to care about this sort of petty thing. You'll see."

"Oh, we'll see alright." Imelda sneered. "I bet my best broomstick that your Slytherin will come crawling back to you on his knees. Why I bet he's foaming at the mouth right now."

·͙⁺˚•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙˚⁺‧͙⁺˚•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙˚⁺‧͙⁺˚•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙˚⁺‧͙

Sebastian was practically foaming at the mouth. He wanted to scream and pull his hair out. Back in the sanctuary of his dorm room, he could finally take off the mask of indifference he'd been wearing all day. Ever since he eavesdropped on the rumors surrounding the new student, they have followed him incessantly, mocking him. It seems like all the students, all the professors, even the godforsaken portraits were talking about the 'newest couple in Hogwarts'. How on earth that anyone could see her and Ominis actually together was beyond him.

Speaking of Ominis, Sebastian glanced over at his friend who was sitting comfortably in his own bed, reading a book in braille. Ominis looked serene as if he was above the petty comments of the commoners of Hogwarts.

Suspiciously aloof in Sebastian's opinion.

"How are you not bothered by all of this?" Sebastian asked. He squinted his eyes, trying to see if he could catch Ominis in the act of trickery.

Ominis sighed, marking his place in his book before closing it with an air of finality. He had foolishly hoped that the silly rumors going around Hogwarts wouldn't upset his best friend too much. The students of Hogwarts were constantly talking Sebastian after all. Gossiping about his charm around the female students, about his duels, about him getting detention for the second time that week. Sebastian was never bothered by gossip, seeming revealing in it.

This rumor was different, it would seem.

"I'm not sure what you're on about." Ominis tried.

Sebastian could smell something was up. "Don't you play dumb with me. You know exactly what I'm referring to. The whole school thinks our new friend is seeing you. Now, I believe that the heresy isn't true." Sebastian's voice threatened to crack. "Is there any reason to believe otherwise?"

The accused boy huffed, rolling his eyes. "Merlin, Sebastian, you really live up to the infamous Slytherin jealousy."

"Don't you avoid the subject." Sebastian said.

Ominis frowned, confused. "Why don't you just correct the rumors? Haven't you been courting her the whole time?"

Sebastian scowled, turning away from his friend, hiding the disappointment on his face. He'd thought that everything was going so well. Her secretive smiles and stolen glances whenever she thought Sebastian wasn't looking her way. The way she stared openly and unapologetically mid-duel as his muscles strained under the force of his spells.

"No, we're just friends, Ominis." Sebastian responded stiffly. "That's all there is too it."

Sebastian had thought that she returned his affections, especially when she accepted his scarf, a calling card of his intentions to woo her. He thought things were going even better when she invited him to an date to Three Broomsticks, reminiscing about their first of many troll attacks. Sebastian thought the date had gone perfectly when he walked her like a gentleman to her dorm.

It wasn't until she bid him a cordial, kind but only friendly, goodbye that he had realized how wrong he was. She had not returned to give Sebastian her own yellow and black scarf, a token of her acceptance towards the courting. And Sebastian had stood in front of the wine casket that hid the Hufflepuff common room, scarfless, lamenting in what an absolute fool he had been.

Ominis's frown deepened. "Enough of this nonsense, Sebastian. She's interested in you. I mean, half of the female population is. I can hear the way you two talk to each other."

Sebastian chuckled darkly. "If that were true, I'd be wearing a yellow scarf."

It had stung. The blatant, but very gentle rejection that she had given him. Sebastian wasn't raised to be a troll to woman, and Anne had taught him to be better than his peers, so he allowed himself a few days to wallow before swallowing his pride. It was privilege enough that she would be friends with him after all that had happened in their 5th year.

He was an idiot for thinking that someone as amazing as her would want to be with someone who's done so much bad as him.

Ominis shook his head. "I'm sorry, Sebastian, but I am convinced that something is afoot between the two of you. As both your friend and her friend, I can say without a shadow of doubt that the feelings are mutual. I think the time for games is finished. You must confess your feelings towards her."

Sebastian scoffed at the ridiculous notion. It's like Ominis wasn't even listening to him. Sebastian had literally just finished explaining how not interested she was in him.

"Gyffindors don't have a monopoly on courage, Sebastian." Ominis chided. "We Slytherins are brave enough to get what we want. We always have been."

Sebastian narrowed his eyes. He could feel the venom on his tongue. "Oh? How's courting my sister working for you?"

Sebastian wasn't sure what reaction he was expecting from Ominis. What Sebastian was for sure not expecting was for a blush to creep its way up Ominis's neck. His best friend sat ramrod straight, as still as a statute. Ominis was incapable of schooling his expression and looked like a child who was caught in a lie.

Sebastian's mouth dropped at Ominis's shift in demeanor. While he had some suspicions over the nature of Ominis's outings beyond Hogwarts grounds, it was a different matter entirely to have confirmation that Ominis was attempting to woo his twin sister.

The two boys were quiet, frozen in place. The air in the dorms was stifling and awkward.

Ominis cleared his dry throat, very comfortable with pretending that he was also selectively deaf. "Well, anyways, it is my humble opinion that our friend is head over heels for you. All you need to do is ask."

Sebastian threw up his arms. He was going to get nowhere with this infuriating boy. Giving up, he collapsed, face first, on his bed, defeated.

·͙⁺˚•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙˚⁺‧͙⁺˚•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙˚⁺‧͙⁺˚•̩̩͙✩•̩̩͙˚⁺‧͙

The Hufflepuff sighed, chewing on the end of her quill. Sitting on one of the dusty decrepit armchairs of the Undercroft, she relished in these moments of silence. No one, student, professor, or villager, was asking anything of her. Instead, she could simply be alone with her thoughts.

Unfortunately, her thoughts often revolved around Sebastian.

She rested her head against her fist and blew a raspberry in frustration. The parchment before her was riddled with crossed out phrases and giant bleeding blotches of ink where her quill had paused. She had spent the whole afternoon trying to come up with…something to say to Sebastian. Four hours of work only to come up with nothing. Ugh. Why did words have to be so hard?

Maybe everyone was right. It would be much easier just to throw him a Hufflepuff jumper and call it a day.

Before she could finalize her thoughts, the iron gates of the Undercroft swung open. She hastily stuffed the quill and parchment into a random pocket in her bags. She couldn't help but fix her hair, just in case it was Sebastian.

In walked the very man who had been on her mind all day. And Sebastian Sallow looked rather miffed. Hands already clenched in frustrations, he walked up to her. His eyes trailed up and down her form.

"What are you wearing?" he asked without preamble.

There was a sense of deja vu at the question. "My school uniform? Because…I go here? I'm a Hogwarts student?"

Sebastian frowned. "Where's your scarf?"

She huffed. Really? Out of millions of important things they had to talk about: Sebastian's behavior, Anne, their maybe date, their questionable relationship status. Her scarf was the thing he chose to fixate on? "It's warm outside, Sebastian. Why on earth would I be wearing a scarf in the spring?"

He scowled, now pacing unable to contain his anxiety. So she decided not to wear his scarf anymore. What did this mean? This only proved Sebastian's theory that she did reject his affections. Ominis's words of encouragement last night only worsened Sebastian's current mood. Ominis had no idea what he was talking about. Maybe after all this time, she finally learned the symbolism behind the gifted scarf and was appalled at Sebastian's rather forward claim on her. Maybe the rumors were to be believed, and she was interested in Ominis. Maybe her and Ominis "studying at the library together" actually had no studying whatsoever. Maybe-

His thoughts got interrupted when something rather soft smacked him square in the face. Whatever the scratchy material was had hit in right in his open eyes. His eyes watered, stinging at the insult.

"What in Merlin's beard?" He ripped the offending fabric off his face.

In his hands was a warm, yellow and black striped Hufflepuff scarf. The one that she had worn throughout the fall. The one that always managed to hide her teasing smiles and blushes. It smelled of their shared apple tarts and a bit singed at the edges as if one of her Confringo spells exploded a bit too close for comfort.

It smelled like her.

He looked up to catch her gaze. She was leaning with all her weight on one foot with her arms crossed, slightly annoyed at the silly affair.

Sebastian recovered quickly. He couldn't stop the grin from his face. He felt like he was back to his old self, just like how he was when the two of them first met. "Well, well, I was waiting for you to pay me back eventually. Nice to know that Hufflepuffs have some manners."

She huffed, tired of these games and double-speak. "You know, if you don't want it, you can always give it back."

"Now hold on," Sebastian cut her off, already wrapping it possessively around his neck in intricate woven pattern so tight so she couldn't even separate it from him if he tried. "I never said I didn't appreciate the gift."

She rolled her eyes. Walking up to him, she picked at the scarf on instinct, fluffing it in a more comfortable manner for him. "This is frankly so dumb."

He hummed in delight at his Hufflepuff fussing over him. With her so close to him now, he felt like a purring Kneazle. "Well, as dumb as you think it is, I think I look rather fetching in yellow. Don't you think so, sweetheart?"

She choked on her spit, hands frozen on her scarf. She missed the safety of the green and silver scarf that allowed her to hide her expressions from the world around her. With a scarlet face, she muttered. "Sebastian Sallow, you know I find you attractive."

Sebastian smirked, preening under her words.

Whatever speech she had drafted now forgotten in favor of venting her frustrations out onto him. "You should also know that you drive me absolutely bonkers. I just can't believe we had to go through this whole song and dance. Merlin, I've been drunk on the Amortentia that is you, Sebastian Sallow, for a whole two years now." Her hands tighten the grip that she had on hers (now Sebastian's?) yellow scarf. "I've been in love with you ever since you first took me to Hogsmeade. Merlin's beard, Sebastian, I've taken you as my companion to every poacher duel I can think of. We explore the most dangerous dungeons together. We fight off foul Acromantulas together. And it takes a silly yellow scarf for you to finally realize my feelings for you?"

She finally looked up at him, her fierce eyes finding his. What she wasn't expecting was a rare moment of vulnerability on Sebastian's face. The confident charming boy before her looked uncertain all of a sudden.

His rough hands reached up to gently meet hers, holding her in place. "Why would someone as good as you want someone who's done so much evil like me?"

And therein laid the truth of Sebastian's fears. If the savior of Hogwarts was too good for people as dull and drab as Garreth or Prewett, then in what world would she want to be with someone who had so much blood on his hands as Sebastian? No, she deserved the best. And it certainly wasn't someone like him.

She was flabbergasted. She was so used to the Sebastian Sallow she first met. The boy whose Slytherin ambitions urged him to greedily take what was rightfully his. Where was the young brash and carefree optimistic boy whose boldness and forwardness had charmed her?

She gently removed her hands from his. His expression was caged off from her. Gently, she reached up to caress his face, angling his chin slightly downwards so he could look at her in the eye. He turned to her, like a wilting flower dying for the sun. The walls around him melted as his knitted brow soften to look at her.

"Sebastian, you are rash and reckless. You are possessive and incredibly jealous, even though you have no reason to be." The other boy looked away, trying to pull away from her. She held his chin in place forcing him to look at her. He looked gorgeous in yellow.

"You're also the most devoted person I know, devoted to Ominis, to Anne, to me. You fight so fiercely to protect what is yours both on the battlefield and off of it. Everything you have done, both the good and the awful, has been because of your love. Everything that you are, your recklessness, your kindness, has been because of your love, your devotion to those that you care for. How could I not fall in love with you?"

The bright joyous colors brought a sunny aura to his usual darkened expressions. The Hufflepuff scarf around his neck made him look lighter, more open to the possibilities around him. The hues of yellow reflected the golden flecks that were hidden in his brown eyes.

He scoffed, trying not to think too hard at her words, not willing to break into a million pieces in front of her. "You are so brilliant, sweetheart, you could have anyone you wanted in the world. I'm just a boy from some hamlet who couldn't even save his sister."

Her shoulders softened. Oh, Sebastian. "That's not true. I am here with you, Sebastian. I am choosing to be here with you. I will always choose to be here with you, in this moment."

He could see her eyes dip down to look at his lips. And with that, it was like the weak dam to his flood of emotions was broken. He surged forward catching her lips in his. His hands flew up to cup both sides of her face, marveling at the beauty he was holding. She responded in turn, throwing her hands around his neck. She met the storm that was Sebastian with equal ferocity. Her lips pressed forward, almost bruising him with the passionate intention behind it.

He could feel the curl of her smile against his. Her long eyelashes fluttered against his cheeks as if they were kissing the freckles that they found there. She smelled of their shared apple tarts, and her lips were warm against his. In her arms, he felt safe, like the world was created just for the two of them.

Lungs dying, he could barely stand ripping himself away from her. He rested his forehead against hers, not wanting to let go of this moment even for a second. His thumb was still caressing her cupped face, marveling at the miracle that was the savior of Hogwarts.

"You should know, you are never getting your scarf back." Sebastian quipped.

She let out a breath of laughter. Sebastian eagerly chased it with another quick kiss. Later, much, much later, after he was finished kissing his darling silly, he'll walk out the Undercroft with a yellow scarf around his neck holding hands with his Hufflepuff wearing that green scarf of hers.

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choccy-milky · 1 year

Text

sebastian flirting with a ravenclaw MC using facts and logic 💙(cause i mean, he's not technically wrong LMAO) ((inspired by a scene in the most recent chap of my fanfic, which you can read here!))

#sebastian sallow #sebastian sallow x mc #sebastian sallow x oc #ominis gaunt #hogwarts legacy #hogwarts legacy fanart #sebastian sallow fanart #sebastian sallow fic #choccyart

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shadowtriovibes · 9 months

Text

something wretched about this, something so precious about this

Pairing: Ominis Gaunt x f!MC

Word Count: 3k

Rating: E

Warnings: 18+, aged-up characters, explicit sexual content, oral sex (f receiving), PIV sex, language kink, parseltongue kink

Summary: request: "mc finds herself absolutely taken with Ominis and his parselmouth." aka mc is absolutely taken with ominis' mouth in every sense of the word

“But you don’t even understand what I’m saying,” he counters, curious. “N-no,” you whine. « I suppose it doesn’t matter, does it, sweetheart? » he hisses. « You’re a troublesome little thing, you hardly listen to me when you can understand. »

The first time you heard Ominis speak Parseltongue, you’d found it to be almost antithetical. It had sounded so bizarre coming out of his mouth, so different from the gentlemanly manner in which he most often spoke. Yet the strength of his snakelike voice sounded somehow familiar, and the way his sighing, hissing words wrapped around you felt like sinking into a warm bath.

“It worked!” you’d exclaimed, hoping your voice wasn’t trembling. “Ominis, you possess a rare ability indeed.”

Minutes later you’d writhed on the floor in unimaginable pain and all thoughts of Ominis’ potentially disreputable talent had flown from your mind. In fact, you’d been so rattled from being on the receiving end of the Cruciatus curse that it took several days for you to recall that you were no longer the sole member of your little trio with a rare gift.

A month later you’d asked Sebastian about it while you were studying for Charms, lazily levitating stacks of books while he had been pouring over Salazar Slytherin’s spellbook.

“What does being a Parselmouth mean?” you asked him curiously.

“Means you can talk to snakes,” he replied, half listening. “Understand them, too.”

You rolled your eyes. “I know that, thanks.”

Sebastian looked up from his book with a skeptical expression on his face. “Then what exactly are you asking?”

You shrug, avoiding his eyes. “I don’t know, I just… Ominis made it sound like it was a bad thing, to be known as a Parselmouth. Like it’s given him a bad reputation. Why is that?”

Carefully closing his spellbook, Sebastian sits back and considers his words carefully before continuing.

“Well, the answer to that is right in front of you,” he says, gesturing to the tattered book on the table before him. “As Ominis said, most Parselmouths are direct descendants of Salazar Slytherin, and whether it’s warranted or not, he’s a controversial figure.”

“Sure,” you agree. “But… does Ominis speak Parseltongue much? How would anyone even know?”

“I think most people just assume,” Sebastian replies with a shrug. “His brothers spoke it, and he’s told me that they speak it more regularly at his home. Many Gaunts have chosen to keep a snake rather than an owl or any sort of conventional animal.”

You nod slowly. “Have you heard him speak it before that night in the Scriptorium?”

“A handful of times,” he admits. “Sometimes he’ll slip up if he’s especially angry or frustrated. I’ve also heard him speaking it in his sleep on occasion.”

Eventually, the conversation shifts to the spellbook and you once again forget about Ominis’ rare skill – this time for nearly two years.

By your seventh year, Ominis has learned about your ancient magic abilities, and your friendship has grown from one of rueful kinship to genuine affection. Nevertheless, he still seems to keep so much of himself guarded, even as you’ve shared so many of your worries and insecurities as you’ve grown into your role as the only living Keeper of your ability.

(It doesn’t help that you’ve fallen achingly in love with him along the way.)

These days you spend most nights studying with him and Sebastian. Usually, you’re eager to soak up the years of knowledge they’d accrued before you’d started school at Hogwarts, but tonight you find yourself distracted.

“Are you listening to me?” Ominis suddenly snaps, and you glance up from where you’d been reading the same paragraph over and over.

Ominis looks annoyed, and to his point, you certainly hadn’t been listening. You’ve both been sprawled out on the floor of the Undercroft for hours now revising for Potions. Sebastian had called it a night shortly before dinner, leaving the two of you to continue pouring over theory textbooks in preparation for Professor Sharp’s famously lethal end-of-term exams.

“Y-yes, sorry,” you stutter. “What were you saying?”

In your defense, winter has arrived in the Highlands and the stone floor of Ominis’ hideaway has cooled you to the bone. The weak flame flickering beneath your shared cauldron isn’t enough to pull you out of your daydreams about a nice warm bed, some cozy blankets, and perhaps someone to share it with…

(Someone who can whisper secret serpentine words against your skin, chasing your goosebumps lower and lower beneath the covers…)

“Again?” Ominis asks, more disappointed than angry this time. “You can’t focus on my words for a full minute before slipping into some reverie?”

Merlin, if only he knew that focusing on his words wasn’t the problem at all.

“I’m sorry, Ominis,” you whine. “But it’s getting late, it’s freezing down here, and we missed dinner…”

“You said you’d help me,” he reminds you, perhaps a bit vulnerably. “The exam is tomorrow afternoon, and my Draught of Living Death is still curdling.”

You groan pathetically and rub your eyes. “Ominis, you’re a dear friend, and I simply adore you, but you’re bloody rubbish at Potions. Perhaps we should take a break for the night.”

Ominis’ jaw clenches while he stirs his (admittedly lumpy-looking) brew.

“Ominis?” you ask hesitantly. “...I apologize if I was harsh, but–”

“Don’t,” he interjects. “Just… stop talking. Clearly, you’re no longer interested in helping me, so you might as well go back to your common room for the night.”

Sighing, you shift closer to where he sits cross-legged on the stone floor and gently rest a hand on top of his knee. You know how challenging Potions has been for him, especially lately; N.E.W.T.-level draughts are challenging enough when one can confirm that the brew they’ve already spent hours preparing has progressed to the appropriate color.

“I think you need to take a break,” you say softly. “You’re making yourself too frustrated, Ominis.”

You watch as a bit of the tension he’d been carrying in his shoulders seeps away as his head hangs gently. As his fingers nervously twitch in his lap, he takes a slow, measured breath and lets his eyes fall closed.

« I need to do this correctly, even just once, » he says. « Then I’ll be able to sleep. »

You suspect he doesn’t even realize he hadn’t spoken English until you sharply pull your hand back with a gasp.

“Wh-what… did I, um,” he stammers. “I didn’t… say that the proper way, did I?”

“Well, er – you hissed it,” you say carefully. “That… that was Parseltongue again, wasn’t it?”

Ominis carefully nods. Your stomach clenches when you notice him hunch in on himself as if he’s ashamed of what he’s done.

“It’s okay!” you quickly tell him. “I, um. I haven’t heard you speak Parseltongue since fifth year, and – and I don’t understand it, obviously, b-but it’s alright if you want to use it.”

You trail off lamely and try to rest your hand on his knee once more, but he nudges it away.

“I apologize,” he says hollowly. “I didn’t mean to scare you.”

A wave of nausea rolls over you as you watch him duck his face and turn away from you – not so that he can’t see you, mind, but that you won’t see him.

“Omins,” you sigh. “Please, you – you haven’t scared me, I promise you.”

“You don’t have to lie to me,” he counters in a deceptively soft voice. “I can tell, you know. Your heart is racing, you’ve gone warm all over… You want to run away. It’s only natural, when one is frightened. I would know.”

You swallow audibly and once more attempt to rest your hand on his thigh, and this time he allows you.

“I’m not scared,” you insist, and as true as your words are, you almost wish you were lying to him.

You think it’s probably less shameful than the truth, which is that Ominis’ brief Parseltongue outburst has your heart racing with desire, not fear.

“Then why…?” he asks before eventually trailing off.

“I find it fascinating,” you tell him softly as you trace your fingertips along the seam of his trousers. “It’s… compelling, Ominis. Perhaps a bit enticing.”

“Enticing?” he repeats softly. “You feel, er.. compelled by my Parseltongue?”

You shyly shrug before remembering a non-verbal answer won’t suffice. “I suppose I do.”

The both of you are silent for several long moments. The only sound that can be heard in the Undercroft is Ominis’ sickly bubbling potion, until he finally asks you, “May I kiss you?”

You hesitate for merely a beat, just to let your mind catch up, but before you can answer Ominis repeats himself in Parseltongue: « May I kiss you? »

This time, your non-verbal answer of crawling astride his lap and kissing him yourself is entirely sufficient.

Ominis moans into your mouth while you grab the lapels of his uniform shirt, brazenly rocking against his lap like one of those wanton witches in Sebastian’s rather foul romance novels. His hands settle on your hips and he helps you grind down onto him until you can feel for yourself where he’s grown hard.

“Wh-what are we doing?” he asks against your lips.

He doesn’t sound scandalized, or even hesitant – rather, he sounds like he’s asking how much you’re going to let him get away with.

“Whatever we want,” you answer him breathlessly. “Ominis, I – I’ve wanted this for so long, we’ll do whatever you want.”

« Whatever I want? » he hisses, and you shiver in his lap. « What I want is to get you on your back for me, sweet girl. »

Carefully, Ominis tips you from his lap back onto the freezing tile, but just as quickly he gently pushes your shoulders back until you’re sprawled out on some abandoned Potions notes. Your skirt falls halfway up your legs and Ominis traces his fingertips along your skin until he finds the hem.

« Spread your legs for me, my love, » he hisses, sliding his hands up the insides of your thighs. « Do you have any idea how long I’ve wanted to touch you here? »

His unseeing eyes flutter closed as his fingertips brush against the hem of your undergarments. You’re wet – you have been since he’d first slipped into those low, hissing tones of his – but now he knows it. He can feel it.

“Gods,” he groans. “You.. you really like to hear my Parseltongue this much?”

“It’s your voice,” you whimper, grinding your hips toward his teasing fingertips. “You… you sound different.”

“Tell me,” he demands. “How do I sound?”

Realizing that he likely sounds the same to his own ears even when speaking the ancient snake language, you bite your lip and force yourself to focus.

“You – you sound powerful,” you admit. “Like your voice is stronger, or… it’s like I can hear it in my whole body, not just my ears.”

Ominis wordlessly rewards you by firmly dragging his thumb down the length of your core through your panties. You melt into his touch; your skin feels as if it’s on fire now, and the very same icy stone floors you’d complained about not long ago now feel like a soothing balm against your skin.

“But you don’t even understand what I’m saying,” he counters, curious.

“N-no,” you whine.

« I suppose it doesn’t matter, does it, sweetheart? » he hisses. « You’re a troublesome little thing, you hardly listen to me when you can understand. »

You whimper and arch your back. “I m-might not understand Parseltongue, but I can tell when you’re teasing me.”

“Darling, I’ve barely begun to tease you,” he murmurs before leaning down and licking up the length of your body from your navel to the dip between your collarbones.

“Please, Ominis,” you beg.

« You’ve been distracting me all evening, » he continues. « I fully intend to have just as much fun playing with you, since you seem to enjoy driving me mad. »

While he kisses what’s sure to be an impressive bruise onto the side of your neck, Ominis slides your panties down your legs.

“I want you inside me,” you confess.

« You want the first time I take you to be on this dirty stone floor? » he asks lazily. « Are you that desperate to be fucked, sweetheart, or have I made you wait too long and driven you mad? »

You groan frustratedly as he starts to kiss his way down your body, pointedly ignoring your canting hips. “Ominis, I’m begging, please say you’ll touch me.”

Ominis presses a wet, open-mouthed kiss against your hipbone. « Don’t fret, my love. How could I refuse such a tempting offer from such a beautiful, albeit slightly mad woman? »

By the time he traces the tip of his tongue along the crease of your hip, you realize where he’s headed. An irreverent array of babble spills from your lips while you attempt to grind impossibly closer to his face, but he places his hands over your hips and keeps you firmly planted against the stone floor before he presses his tongue flat against your cunt.

If he were still speaking Parseltongue into your skin, you’d never know. Any words of praise or kindly teasing that spilled from his lips were drowned out by a litany of curses you’d never utter in front of a man like Ominis in any other setting.

“That’s it, my lovely girl,” he whispers against the inside of your thigh. « Your cunt is so wet for my tongue, and it’s even sweeter than you are. »

He’s switching between English and Parseltongue so easily that you can’t be sure he’s even doing it on purpose anymore, and you couldn’t possibly say which you prefer more. Being fully aware of every filthy word he says is a dream, but is it as delicious as not knowing what he’s saying as he utters secret confessions inches from your skin?

You don’t bother spending much time considering it while you lie back and let him lick you open. All you can think about is his tongue on your skin, pushing inside you, savoring every inch of your body while he learns you by touch and by taste.

That’s what he’s doing, after all – learning you. He’ll get you off, of course he will, but that’s not why he’s bent over between your legs with your calves thrown over his shoulder.

“Ominis,” you groan. “I need you in me, I… I need you.”

He presses a deceptively sweet kiss to your sensitive clit before he asks, “Is that so? I thought you liked my Tongue, and now it’s not enough for you?”

“Don’t tease me,” you plead. “I know you want me just as badly.”

While Ominis had been coming up for air between burying his face between his thighs, you’d been able to see just how affected he is – you aren’t alone in your eagerness, you can be sure of it.

« Right as always, you are, » he hisses. « Perhaps you don’t understand my words, but you can sense my desire, can’t you? »

He grinds his hard cock against your inner thigh to punctuate his words and you whine pathetically.

“Take me, take me, take me,” you chant while he sits back to undo his trousers and push them down just enough to free himself. You realize he intends to stay fully clothed while he takes you apart, and you shiver against the cold floor.

When he finally sinks inside, you fall helplessly silent.

Every ounce of focus you have is spent on relaxing your body, opening up for him as he buries himself inside you. He’s almost ruthless in his endeavor to fully seat himself in you despite his intimidating length. Save a few breathless not-quite-whines, you’re quiet beneath him.

« Nothing to say, darling? » he hisses at first, and then in a softer voice he asks, “Are you alright? Am I hurting you?”

“N-no, it’s good,” you moan. “Please… keep talking to me.”

“You want me to talk to you, hm?” he asks, grinding in until the flat part of his pelvis brushes against yours. « Do you need a distraction? You’re taking me so well, my angel. »

He starts to fuck you in earnest with a slow, careful rhythm to keep your bare skin from catching along the worn stones beneath your back. As he thrusts inside you, he keeps talking in that low, hissing tone. Soon you realize even his words match the rhythm of his body, rising and falling with his motions.

« Feels so good… Waited so long… I can’t stop, please don’t ask me to stop… »

His back feels feverishly warm to the touch while you drag your hands down from his shoulder blades to the back of his hips. In the years since you’d first heard the snakeline sound of Parseltongue fall from his lips, he’s grown taller and his musculature has changed into that of a lithe, well-built man. Now the strength of that voice suits the body from which it emanates, and both have combined to keep you firmly pinned to the floor beneath their might.

You cling to him as he fucks you harder. You feel so close already, tumbling toward the edge of pleasure beneath him as his serpentine words glide across your skin.

When you come around him, you hear him whisper your name in Parseltongue – it’s the same, you think, but softer, and sweeter.

« When I come inside you, » he hisses just above a whisper. « I want you to keep every last drop inside for me. Will you, my darling? »

“Ominis!” you wail.

“Fuck – fuck,” he gasps, and seconds later you feel the mess he's made inside you threaten to spill out with every slow, greedy thrust in his post-orgasmic haze.

“N-no, stop,” you whimper, and he immediately goes still.

“What is it?” he asks, his English crisp and clear.

You shift shyly beneath him and whisper, “Don’t… don’t keep going. I want to keep it inside for now, and – and when you move, it, um…”

Merlin, you don’t have the words to say you’re just as greedy as he is – you want to stay full of him, just as he’d asked in that ancient, indecipherable tongue.

Ominis presses soothing kisses to your face while you wrap your legs around his waist to hold him in place. His lips brush across your cheeks, the bridge of your nose, the curve of your jaw.

“Of course, darling,” he whispers. “I’ll stay right here.”

Then, with his lips pressed to yours, he hisses, « I’ll stay right here as long as you like. »

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