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Astra wakes early the next day, or rather, the little sleep she got before her nightmares took hold made her keen to not stay another second in the, all be it, comfortable bed. She still aches a little from the curse, it’s a similar feeling she had when she first arrived at Hogwarts, when she had no idea how to navigate to any of her classes and ended up running around all over the place.
Her legs hadn’t been particularly grateful for the amount of stairs, but at least her cardio had gotten better.
Imelda is still snoozing—and drooling on her pillow, when Astra gets out of their shared room. She’s as quiet as she possibly can be while she dresses in a green skirt, white blouse, black suit jacket, grey stockings and comfortable dark brown boots she’d recently bought from Gladrags.
Once she’s taken the spiral staircase out of the Slytherin common rooms, Astra takes the long way around to the Great Hall, a book her mother had sent her under her arm. It’s Sunday which thankfully means no classes. She doesn’t think she’d be able to sit through a bunch of lectures today, considering that she aches a little once she finally sits down by the Slytherin table.
The hall is mostly deserted, there is a couple of tired Hufflepuffs and Ravenclaws with noses buried in their books scattered by their own tables but it’s early enough that most people are still asleep.
The book her mother had sent her was made by an American novelist. A gift from one of her more travelled friends, after reading it Astra’s mother had—through the owl that Astra had sent her. (It had taken Geneviève Prince surprisingly little time to get used to the idea of owl travelled post). Astra had gotten rather caught up with it actually, she was nearly close to the finish.
By the time the hall starts filling up, Astra has already eaten, but Imelda shows up along with a couple of other from their house and drags Astra into a hot debate of broom brands. She has to admit, Imelda might have come off as an insufferable and arrogant know it all with little to no respect for anyone who didn’t know how to handle a broom. But Astra had been quite fond of her. She might even consider the other girl a friend.
Natty and Garreth wave at her when they stumble in through the doors, looking even more tired than the sleeping Hufflepuffs another table away.
Didn’t the Gryffindors have a party last night while Astra, Ominis and Sebastian had been crawling through death traps? She does recall been invited, offered to be smuggled into the Gryffindor common rooms with the help of the two.
Honestly, Astra would have gone if Sebastian hadn’t found her first. She’d been curious about the other common rooms for a while, Natty told her that it was shockingly red and orange, and far too many stairs. But it had a cosey atmosphere. Oh well, maybe next time.
“You’re a traitor to your house.” Imelda tells her with a quirk of her lips, “didn’t you know, Slytherins and Gryffindors are natural enemies.”
“Oh, I don’t know. Garreth and Natty are pretty friendly.” Astra hides her smile with her hand.
Imelda’s eyes briefly flit over to where Garreth is in the process of stuffing eggs into his mouth, parts of it falling back onto his plate as he laughs at something his friend says.
“Truly.” She sounds vaguely disgusted. “And they call themselves the chivalrous ones.”
“No one said anything about proper etiquette.” Astra chuckles.
“Clearly.” Imelda sniffs, turning her nose up. Though she can’t quite hide the way her eyes linger on Garreth before she’s pulled into another conversation, this time about Quidditch teams.
Interesting.
She’s just about to get up and leave, maybe spend some time outdoors by the front gate before the weather turns sour, when Sebastian and Ominis wander in through the hall doors. They make a rather hasty beeline for her, or well. Sebastian does and pulls a grumbling Ominis with him.
“There you are!” Sebastian says as greeting, sitting down next to her. “We waited for ages in the common area before we finally got Trembaly to check your dorm room.”
“Sorry.” Astra apologizes, lifting her book up to avoid Sebastian spilling jam on it as he stretches across the area of the table to grab the jar. “I woke early and decided to get some air.”
“Did you sleep well?” Ominis asks politely, sitting down opposite herself and Sebastian, next to Imelda.
She smiles tersely. “Well enough.”
Ominis barely manages to hide his grimace at her tone, but doesn’t push.
“Well, I slept like a baby.” Sebastian says, chomping down on his toast. Astra is mildly impressed how quickly he manages to eat it. That is until Ominis moves sharply and Sebastian with a loud yowl gets his food stuck in his throat.
“Ow! You kicked me!” Sebastian complains and coughs, rapidly turning more red in the face.
Imelda looks over with a displeased expression on her face, annoyed at her breakfast and conversation being disrupted.
“Why did you kick me?”
“Because you’re being an idiot.” Ominis replies, his tone clipped. “And incredibly insensitive.”
Astra hides her smile behind her book.
“You can’t even see—”
Ominis rolls his eyes. “Thank you, Sebastian. I’m glad one of us has noticed that I’ve been blind since birth.”
“How can you be so damn accurate…” Sebastian mutters, leaning down under the table to rub the spot.
“Did he get your shin?” Astra asks, flipping her book over to grab a napkin and hand it to Sebastian. “You have jam on your face.”
He begrudgingly takes it from her, shooting another glare at Ominis.
“He’s been snappy with me all morning.”
Ominis doesn’t deign to answer it, instead he starts to slowly collect his own breakfast onto his plate. Even without his sensing charm, he’s so confident in where everything’s put that he barely hesitates when he puts an omelette onto his plate. Astra wonders briefly if the house-elves do it on purpose.
“Did you sleep well, Ominis?” She asks quietly, she knows he’ll hear her anyway.
“I slept as I normally do.” He replies, taking a sip of his orange juice.
Astra sighs softly, she’d suspected as much. Even with his meticulous appearance, combed back blonde hair and straight clothes, he did look tired. The circles under his eyes seemed deeper than normal. Most likely because last night had brought up unpleasant memories.
“Why isn’t that picture moving?” Sebastian says, breaking what had been somewhat of an uncomfortable silence.
Astra blinks, following his eyes to whatever it is he’s looking at. Her book. Or more so, the photography of the author on the back.
“Oh, my mother sent me this book.”
“A muggle book?” Sebastian asks, a bit less intrigued than he was a second ago.
“Yes.” Astra smiles, “my mother was rather adamant I should read it, apparently it was gifted to her by one of her American friends.”
Towards the end of the table, she catches some of the sixth years glance their way, obviously listening in to their conversation. She pretends not to notice the looks of disgust, and she’s glad that Sebastian is sitting next to her, so he can’t see the looks on their faces either. She knew his temper didn’t quite allow him to leave it alone.
“What is it about?” Ominis asks.
She worries her lip between her teeth for a second. “It’s about a narcissist, who’s so desperate to preserve his youth and beauty that he makes a wish. His aging gets trapped in a portrait, which represents his sins and transgressions.”
“Muggles write the strangest things about magic.” Sebastian muses, shaking his head.
“I think it sounds rather intriguing.”
“I’m almost done with it.” Astra admits. “Perhaps you’d like to borrow it?”
“I’d like that.” Ominis smiles then, that small private one she rarely gets to see.
It’s a nice smile.
They continue eating while Astra reads another couple of pages. The atmosphere in the great hall has always been a favourite of hers, not only the floating candles, but the constant buzz of students. It always feels alive. Like something straight out of one of those, dreadfully boring in Sebastian’s opinion, muggle fantasy books she used to devour back home.
A couple of third years pass them by, Astra catches them look at Sebastian and giggle before they run off. Sebastian himself, completely oblivious to the attention as he continues to shovel food down his gut. Truly she’d think him part giant with how much he’s managing to eat.
“I was thinking—”
“Before you start.” Ominis swiftly interrupts, “I have twelve inches I need to write for Professor Binns and I’m not going to get roped in to another one of your foolish adventures.”
Sebastian groans, turning to her with a questioning look.
“Sorry, Sebastian.” Astra pats his shoulder apologetically. “I’m taking History of Magic too, remember?”
She had almost forgotten about the assignment, something about the ministry and it’s founding, she thinks. It was incredibly difficult to stay awake in Binns’ classes. Ominis and herself had a bit of a buddy system going, poking each other awake if they ever fell asleep during class. It worked most of the time, but Binns droning voice had made them both fall asleep at the same time before. It was only thanks to Amit that most people taking the class even knew what was going on.
“Fine.” Sebastian says dramatically. “I suppose I’ll just go to Hogsmeade by myself.”
“Try not to fight any trolls this time.” Ominis quips.
“No promises.” Sebastian chuckles, he stretches and goes to stand. “I’ll see you two later, have fun with your homework.”
“See you.” Astra echoes.
“Yes.” Ominis lips does that thing again, a slight twitch which means he thinks he’s being very amusing. “See you later.”
She watches Sebastian roll his eyes as he leaves before she puts her book down and turns to Ominis. “Library? We could study together?”
“Good idea.” Ominis nods.
Madam Scribner might not be overly fond of Sebastian, but she did keep the library on a tight leash, and the quiet surroundings were perfect for long writing assignments. Besides, she did want to talk to Ominis about something else.
She gets up from the bench and walks down the aisle towards the door to meet up with Ominis. She doesn’t mean to look—doesn’t want to look—at Celestine Malfoy and Lucinda Snyde as she passes them by. But she meets Celestine’s dark eyes anyway.
“Mudblood.” She hisses under her breath, just loud enough for Astra to hear.
She almost stumbles over her own feet, bringing her book closer to her chest as she hastily looks away. It’s no Cruciatus, but it still hurts to hear it. Which is ridiculous, she doesn’t care at all for Celestine’s opinion of her. So why did it feel like she’d just had her breath stolen from her?
She links up with Ominis, jaw clenched so tightly that it hurts.
Ominis hand grips on to her arm. “Wait.” He whispers, subtly turning back towards the table.
Had he heard what Celestine had said? Oh, Merlin, Astra hopes not. She doesn’t want to stay another second in the hall.
“Ominis—"
“Langlock.” Ominis whispers, waving his wand between them—towards Celestine.
Mid laughter—a dreadful nasal sound, Celestine chokes up as though she’s just swallowed her own tongue. The laughter turns in a horrible sound that draws the attention of most of the other students in the hall, and the silence that follows is almost deafening—if it weren’t for Celestine's garbled noises, pawing at her own face as her friends look on in horror.
That is, until a snorting chuckle breaks the silence, she thinks it’s Garreth, but she can’t quite make it out as the rest of the hall erupts in roaring laughter.
Ominis looks amused too. “Come,” he murmurs. “Before we get into trouble.”
Stumped, Astra follows him through the large doors. “Ominis, you—” she cuts herself off, fighting the smile pulling at the corners of her lips. But as soon as she turns to look at him, and sees the satisfied look on his face, that laugh does escape her. Merlin, seeing Celestine’s confused face. What a terribly delightful jinx!
“I can’t believe you did that.” Astra whispers, shoulders pressing up against each other as they walk. “You’re as bad as Sebastian.”
“It’s a harmless jinx,” Ominis protests mildly. “Though, actually quite useful if you want to stop someone from casting.”
“Teach me?”
He chuckles. “Can you be trusted with such dangerous knowledge?”
“I promise to only use it on Sebastian when he’s being terribly annoying.” Astra crosses her heart with her finger, still grinning from ear to ear.
“Well then.” Ominis nods. “I suppose I can indulge you, if you aim to use it in such a noble pursuit.”
As they turn a corner towards the library, Astra gently places a hand on his arm to stop him. Ominis does, his wand pulsing softly red from his sensing charm. He raises a questioning eyebrow.
“Thank you.” She whispers, her voice breaking a bit at how vulnerable she feels in that instance. She wasn’t going to cry, not in the middle of the hallway, but the feeling is there none the less.
Ominis bristles. “Celestine is a horrible person. She deserved it.”
“You didn’t have to.” Astra murmurs quietly. “It’s just… just a stupid word.”
“It’s a terrible word.” Ominis replies equally quiet. “You’re a brilliant witch, Astra. Anyone who can’t recognize that is an idiot, or jealous. Probably both.”
She ducks her head at the compliment, feeling her cheeks heat up a little.
“I don’t know what I’ve done to deserve her ire.” She says with a heavy sigh. “Do you know her? Celestine?”
“Unfortunately.” Ominis grumbles. “Her father has been pestering mine for years for us to marry.”
Astra sputters, slapping her hand in front of her mouth to stop the noise.
“What?!” She gasps then finally. “You’re—engaged?”
“Not—no!” Ominis cheeks look pink in the light that’s coming through the windows, a stark difference to his normally pallid tone. “I’m not engaged.”
Well, that’s a huge relief.
Astra blinks.
No, nope. She doesn’t have time to analyse that particular thought.
“My father doesn’t think the Malfoys have enough to offer.” Ominis continues, almost stumbling over his words. “Or maybe Septimus Malfoy insulted my mother at some point. I can’t quite remember what the story is since it changes rather frequently. My family isn’t exactly…” He purses his lips disapprovingly. “Forthcoming.”
“Oh.” Astra says dumbly.
“Though…” He grimaces. “I suppose marrying Celestine Malfoy would be slightly more preferable than my own cousin. But only slightly.”
Well, she had heard rumours that the Gaunt’s intermarried. But to hear it from Ominis himself was quite the shock. To be so obsessed over keeping their pure-blood lineage to wed within their own family.
Astra makes a face.
He turns away from her. “I fear I’ve revealed too much. Merlin knows what you must think of me now.”
Oh, well it’s hardly Ominis fault, is it?
“I think you don’t get to choose who you’re born to.” Astra replies, trying to keep her voice light. “And from what you’ve told me of your family… you’re nothing like them.”
He sighs, then shakes his head. “My parents are cousins, you know?”
“That must be awkward.”
“Awkward. Quite.” Ominis scowls. “Most people think my blindness was a curse inflicted on me as a baby. But I fear the answer is far more simple, and… disturbing than many realise.”
Astra does remember her muggle studies before she got her Hogwarts letter. How she’d learned about history and how royal families would marry siblings to siblings to keep their own bloodlines pure, and the deformities that came with it. Along with the madness.
For all their smug superiority, the pure-blood supremacists like the Gaunts, Blacks, and Malfoys were all really just the same as the muggles they supposedly despised.
Oh the irony.
“It must make organizing family reunions less of a hassle.” Astra says without thinking.
Ominis mouth opens, then closes. He blinks those eyes that remind her of an icy lake on a clear day. For a moment she thinks that perhaps she’s overstepped.
Then he laughs.
Loudly and boisterously, it’s unlike anything she’s ever heard before. It’s quite shocking at first, to see it from him—this normally reserved and soft spoken boy that she’s grown fairly fond of, laughing so hard that he has to reach out and steady himself on wall they’re stood next to.
But his laugh is also incredibly contagious, enough to have her giggling along with.
When he does manages to reign himself in, Astra does feel proud at the sight of him. His normally porcelain coloured cheeks pink, lips pulled back over white teeth in a wide grin.
“I imagine so. ‘Less of a hassle’ indeed.” He chortles, shakes his head. “I… must admit, I haven’t laughed like that in… quite some time.”
“It looks good on you.”
Oh, Merlin. Why did she say that?!
Ominis smile wavers ever so slightly, but remains all the same. Her stomach does flips as though hit by a knockback jinx. What does that even mean?
“I’ll have to take your word for it.” He smiles, then clears his throat, smoothing out his rumpled waistcoat. “Perhaps we should continue to the library? I imagine Sebastian will be quite put out with us if he learns we’ve squandered the day instead of studying.”
Astra hums in agreement, her eyes drawn to his wand as he raises it.
“Oh!”
Ominis raises his eyebrows at her startled noise.
“I—” She glances around to make sure they’re alone. Bar a couple of portraits, it seems relatively empty. Good. “Yesterday, when we… found your aunt.”
Astra bites her lip, mentally berating herself for bringing the mood down.
“What of her?” Ominis asks, tone turning sombre.
“I found her wand.” She murmurs quietly. “I figured, you might want it?”
She’s met with silence for a long while, before he nods jerkily, holding his hand out. “Please.”
The draws the wand out of her enchanted pocket, the wood is warm to the touch, and when she places it in Ominis’ open hand a tiny spark sends tingles down her arm.
Ominis pockets his own wand to run his fingers over Noctuas.
“She’s the one that helped me develop my sensing charm.” He murmurs fondly, a small smile on his lips. “She used a blinding hex on herself to get it right. I could hear her stumbling around, I imagined we looked quite the fools.”
Astra mirrors his smile. “It sounds like she was a wonderful person.”
“She was.” Ominis holds the wand a bit closer to him. “She would have liked you.”
“You think?”
“I know.” Ominis tilts his head down towards the wand and then to Astra. “She was adventurous and firm, but fair… and very mischievous, she got into trouble often at home, even more so when she was a student here.” He chuckles fondly. “I imagine you would be kindred spirits.”
Astra wishes she could have met Noctua Gaunt.
“She was kind too, and cared so much. When I—” Ominis swallows thickly, then continues in a strained voice. “When my father forced me to cast Crucio, and when I refused and Marvolo cast it on me instead… she was the one who found me after. She was the one that helped me through it, without her I… I don’t know what would have happened without her. I probably would have ended up like my brothers. She was my best friend before Sebastian and Anne.”
His voice is raw and filled with emotion.
“When she disappeared. I was afraid to ask my father what had happened, if he knew where she could possibly be.” Ominis sighs heavily. “When I finally mustered the courage it had been months since her disappearance. I… I wish now that I hadn’t waited so long, perhaps she would still be here today if I just had been brave enough.”
She can’t quite imagine not being able to talk to her mother in the same way he describes his interactions with his father. Then again, Astra’s mother had been her best friend—and only friend really, since she was old enough to grasp the concept of the word friend.
She wants to reach out and comfort him, but at the same time she doesn’t want to overwhelm him either. “You can’t possibly know that Ominis.”
“We’ll never know now.” He runs his fingers over the wand. “Thank you for this. I don’t have much to remember her by, my parents saw to that when they decided she was a disgrace and got rid of her things from the manor.”
“I’m glad you have it.” Astra nods. “I… dread to go back to the scriptorium, but perhaps we should give Noctua a proper burial. If-if you wish for my help, that is.”
Ominis nods, smiling bittersweet before pocketing his aunts wand and brings his own up again. “I would like that."