Chapter Text
You awoke in a groggy state, your eyes—and mind, raw from the events of yesterday—of last night.
You lay in your unfamiliar bed, staring up at the basil-coloured canopy above you. You listened to the sound of your roommates, Imelda and Nerida, getting ready to head down to breakfast.
Your mind warred with itself as you tried to organize your thoughts following your...encounter in the Pensive.
It has taken some time for you to calm yourself, with Miriam and Eleazar holding your hands as you tried to control your breaths.
Once you settled a little, safe between your mentors on the comfortable settee, you attempted to talk—to explain what you saw—but it came out in a jumble that you were sure didn’t make sense.
You told them everything—bar the Ravenclaw’s final plea. You didn’t know why—but you knew that was just for you.
You described the memory in detail, dwelling numbly on your alter’s haggard and bloodied appearance. You recalled each word the dying teen gave you—each a chance to avoid her fate.
When you got to Fig—you had to fight down another attack, just barely getting out: “You seemed to have gone down fighting beside me.” He had shut his eyes, shaking his head as he rubbed your hand in an apologetic gesture—as if sorry you now lived with that image.
Miriam just took a steady breath, squeezing your hand while looking intently at her husband, bidding you to continue when you felt ready.
You proceeded to tell them about Ranrok—and though you didn’t understand a lot of what the reflection had said, you gave every word. You told them about Keepers and Isidora—whoever they were. That there would be ‘trials’ and that you couldn’t wait for them. Most importantly, you admitted that the magic Ranrok sought was a corruption of the magic you could see—and wield, if your alter was to be believed.
A dark fear crept over your heart that this may make them fear you—pull away, just as your reflection believed these ‘Keepers’ did. But their steadfast hands never faltered for a moment, their grip and intent unwavering. You let out a relieved sigh and continued.
You informed them that the girl had said she had never met Miriam—and that she hoped she may tip the scales this time around. Miriam nodded grimly, surmising resignedly that Ranrok must have succeeded in silencing her in your alter’s timeline. After a minute you had apologised—unsure what else to say.
“Don’t be sorry for me, my precious Spark. I only pity that my counterpart never got a chance to know you as I have.”
You had fought back more tears as you nodded, biting hard on your lip to distract your heart.
You then described the look on the reflection’s face when she had begged you to choose an alternate path than hers—one of light and life, rather than darkness and death. You told them about her request to create—to build anew, as she had said.
You ended your tale there, staying silent on the other unknown players and quests in this dark pantomime in progress; Anne and Rookwood.
Miriam and Eleazar had been excellent listeners, never rushing you or interrupting—especially when you had to keep stopping to steady yourself. After a few minutes of silence, the three of you just listening to the dying fire, Miriam announced that it was far too late and that you needed rest—that there would be time to discuss the details of the memory later—you had done enough.
Miriam told Eleazar that she would take you to the Slytherin house. Professor Fig offered to accompany you, as your face must have broadcast a slight panic at not being able to see him alive and well.
Miriam had then responded haughtily that ‘she had never let a Gryffindor into the Slytherin common room—and she wasn’t about to start now.’ The light-hearted remark helped greatly to shift some of the heaviness in your chest, to bring out a weak smile. After a final strong hug from Eleazar, Miriam ushered you out the door.
As you walked in silence you felt the events of the day start to take their toll on your exhausted frame. Miriam supported your shuffling body as you kept moving downwards through the castle.
You barely recall how you even got into the bed you were currently laying in—flashes of stone and emerald—serpents and murky depths.
And now here you were—in the Slytherin fifth year girls dorm. You idly wonder what the Ravenclaw rooms were like—your mind building a bright, gabled space in shades of blue.
You heard footsteps to your left.
“Is she even in there?” You heard Imelda hiss as she stood close to your drawn four-poster bed.
“Shhh! You will wake her up!” whispered Nerida.
“Well if she misses breakfast, that’s on her.” she muttered and you heard heavy footsteps head out the door.
There was silence for a moment before you heard Nerida walk to your bedside, softly calling your name. You pulled back the curtain and gave a sleepy smile to the kind-faced girl.
“Oh! Hello! So sorry—did I wake you?”
You assured Nerida you had been awake and were about to get up. You swung your feet onto the plush carpet beneath your bed.
The design of the rug was of course serpentine in motif—but you were delighted to see it was made of constellations of snakes—stars highlighted along their celestial spines. You stood up to greet a relieved-looking Nerida.
“Oh good! I didn’t—I mean, Imelda didn’t want you to miss breakfast.” she said sweetly as she expertly added hairpins to her elaborate chestnut braid. You smiled at her attempt at peacemaking—and you were sympathetic. No one wants to live in a hostile environment.
“That was nice of her.” you said evenly—but bestowing your smile on the rightful owner of your gratitude.
“Look, I know she can be a bit—prickly, sometimes, but please don’t judge her too harshly, she’s had a bad start to the year.”
“Really? Is she alright?” you question, seeing the concern in the brunette's eyes.
Nerida then appeared to inwardly chastise herself, looking awkwardly at the floor.
“Uh—please forget I said anything. She is a really private person—if she wants you to know something about her—she should be the one to tell you.”
You nodded appreciatively at this, respecting the girl’s loyalty to her friend's wishes. Nerida then offered to wait for you if you needed help getting to the Great Hall—but you bid her to go, saying you would catch up later.
You quickly got ready, using the borrowed wand to perform a basic hygiene spell that Miriam had taught you. Changing into your green-trimmed robes, you moved to check your appearance in the mirror by the door.
You leaned in close to the reflection, staring into your own eyes, searching for any sign of—someone else. Sighing, you stepped back to twist around, checking your skirt was even and stockings straight. You gave your vest a sharp tug, straightening your emerald necktie.
Finally content with your appearance, you stowed your wand in your pocket and grabbed your bag. You stop in front of the door.
Taking a deep breath, you resolve to focus on classes for the day—that the other concerns would need to wait. Your magical education mattered—more than ever now that you knew some of what was coming your way.
Leaving your dorm, you walked down the stone steps, taking in the Slytherin Common areas for the first time.
You adored it.
The architecture was magnificent, catching your breath as your eyes slipped along marble rails and delicate serpents in granite. While somewhat haunted and cold feeling at first blush, you now found elements of mystery and tradition built into the foundations of your new home.
As you walked into the main foyer, the room bathed in the morning light filtered through the lake, you actually smiled at the idea that this was your new home.
You were about to make a bee-line to the towering windows, eager to peer into the depths of the lake—when you heard someone clear their throat, softly saying your name, just inside the doorway.
Turning around, you felt the brittle confidence you had managed to hobble together break away as you looked up into the frosty eyes of Ominis Gaunt.
Uh oh.
You instinctively backed up a step, creating some space to fully take him in—and maintain a safe distance.
While still imposing, his features also struck you as elegant, uniquely beautiful in the ethereal blue light of the lake. As attractive as he arguably was, however, there was still something—amiss, with his face. What it was, you couldn’t yet place.
You also realised you had just been standing there staring at him for a full thirty seconds without answering.
“Oh! Um—good morning, Ominis.” You say lightly, smiling with nervous energy. You watch his passive face flicker with a grimace—and you worry that you’ve somehow upset him again.
“I see. Someone has told you who I am.” he huffed sadly. “Regardless. May I speak privately with you for a moment?”
You blinked a few times before saying yes, following him to the alcove under the left great window.
You watch with fascination as he effortlessly navigates the sitting room littered with antiques, furniture and students. His wand gave off a faint red glow, pulsing a steady rhythm.
He must use magic to orient himself. I wonder how it works.
Now out of earshot of your fellow Slytherins, Ominis let out a controlled sigh. You caught that he was rhythmically clenching and unclenching his fist at his side and you braced yourself for another verbal assault.
He took a deep breath and spoke.
“You must allow me to apologise to you.” he started, his brow contracted with remorse.
You certainly hadn’t been expecting him to say that—but you remained silent.
“The way I spoke to you yesterday in class was—unconscionable. I was an absolute beast to you and I cannot tell you how sorry I am. I—I was having—a bad day, stomping around in a mood—ready to snap at anyone. I didn’t realise you were the new muggle-raised fifth year—not that that is an excuse for such behaviour, mind you. I have also since been informed that you didn't know I was blind—you had truly meant no offence. I am so very sorry and I hope you can forgive me."
Oh.
Relief flooded your heart at his earnest apology. His face and demeanour broadcasting genuine remorse. While you had been troubled by his words in History of Magic, it was clear he had been suffering more from the fallout of your first encounter than you.
You smiled up at him.
“It’s alright, Ominis, I actually understand…I have been having some—emotionally turbulent days myself recently. I accept your apology. I really hope we can be friends—we are housemates after all.”
The Slytherin boy let out a breath he had been holding, his entire frame slumping with relief—casting off its heavy shroud of worry.
“Thank Merlin. I was so afraid I had made such a poor impression that I could never recover.” His face spread into a grateful smile—and something clicked in your head.
That was why his features looked strange before—his face was designed for expressing joy. You were then reminded of Professor Ronen’s cheerful visage, another person built for laughter.
This observation helped significantly in banishing the last remnants of fear of the blonde boy.
Ominis played with the handle of his wand with his fingers, tapping a skittish tempo along the jade handle, seemingly searching for something more to say.
“Well, I am sorry you have had such a rough start of term. I am sure I played a part in that.” he admitted, rubbing the back of his neck with a guilty expression.
“Granted, I was concerned by our encounter; but I assure you, I have other—stress outside of starting school that has been occupying my thoughts. Also, for the record, you were not the most troublesome Slytherin I met yesterday, believe me.”
The boy chuckled warmly at this, shaking his head.
“Let me hazard a guess, Sebastian?”
“It’s like he was sent from Hell to torment me.” you muttered, recalling every roguish wink—every flirtatious exchange the freckled teen had boldly thrown at you the day before.
Ominis let out a bark of laughter at this remark, leaning back on a marble pillar, arms crossed over his wide chest as he tilted his head towards you.
“Yes, I am aware he has taken, let’s say an interest in you. To what end, I dread to imagine. But if it makes you feel any better, Seb contributed to my bad mood yesterday as well.”
“Oh? How so?”
“He has just become more—persistent about certain things. He jumps from one thought to the next, acting without concern for consequences—it was tearing on my nerves yesterday. I have never been very good at tempering Sebastian’s—compulsive nature. That was always Anne’s talent…“ he trailed off, the lightness in him slipping slightly as a dark shadow crossed his face.
Anne?
Your heart sped up as your counterpart’s bloodied face from the Pensive was dragged harshly to the front of your mind. You chose your next words carefully.
“Anne? Did she graduate already or something?” you asked evenly, attempting to school your voice to sound nonchalant.
“Unfortunately, no. Anne is quite unwell at the moment—she is suffering from the effects of a curse.” Pain etched his alabaster features as he turned his head away.
This must be the same Anne. She is a student.
“That’s terrible, I’m so sorry about your friend Ominis. Is that also why you were having a bad day?” you asked with concern.
Ominis nodded.
“Yes. I was upset that we were starting classes while Anne is still in Feldcroft—Seb and I had hoped she might have been cured before the start of term. I know this is why Sebastian is a bit more manic—taking stupid risks. He is exhausting every avenue to find a cure for his twin.”
Twin?
You stop understanding what the blonde was saying as connections and realisations bombarded your mind.
Anne is Sebastian’s twin sister.
My Slytherins need you.
Many of the events and feelings from the previous day came into sharper focus—explanations starting to surface from the murky depths of mystery.
Sebastian is involved somehow with what your alter tasked you to do, logically explaining why you had felt so drawn to him when you first met. Your mind drifted to briefly to your Ravenclaw counterpart.
I wonder what her relationship had been like with her own Sebastian.
“Are you alright? I didn’t mean upset with all this” You heard Ominis ask and glancing up you saw a concerned-looking boy across from you.
“I’m sorry Ominis. I keep forgetting you cannot see my face, I am ok—and thank you for telling me about Anne. It’s good to know so I don't accidentally say something insensitive to Sebastian.”
He smiled appreciatively over your concern for his friend's feelings.
“That is very kind, thank you. And no offence taken as I fully admit I am not great at reading intent sometimes due to my impairment—as unfortunately you experienced. It can lead me to really put my foot in it more often than I’d like.”
You nodded with understanding.
“Like Ester Cole…” you whispered softly as a warm recollection from your past invaded your mind.
“Ester Cole?”
Ominis has really good hearing.
“Oh it’s nothing—just, a girl came and lived at the muggle orphanage I grew up in for a few months when I was thirteen. She had been blinded and her hearing severely damaged by a bad case of scarlet fever. When she arrived, she was so disoriented by not being able to see people’s expressions and hear them clearly that she would argue and take offence to things easily. She needed something to help her while she got use to her new limitations.”
You stopped and waited to see if you were boring the boy—but he was listening attentively, giving you head nod to bid you to continue.
“Anyways, The headmistress was getting real fed up with all the misunderstandings and squabbling, so she created a ‘Pulse’ system for Ester to help her better understand the other girl's intent. It was just a series of physical touches that would let Ester know in what way someone meant something they had said. But anyways, it’s really not important—not sure why I brought—“
“Could you show me how it works?” the blonde asked suddenly, taking a small step towards you.
You blanked and flushed, nervously thinking about what a demonstration would entail. You glanced into the now almost empty common room before turning back to your housemate.
“Sure—yeah, alright. Can I have your hand?”
He held out his hand without hesitation, face set with active interest. You nervously wipe your hands on your robes before reaching to grip his elegant finger in your own. He was cool to touch—but not in an unpleasant way—the temperature seemed to compliment the cool blonde’s aesthetic.
“So…for example, if someone was apologizing, they would say ‘I’m sorry’ and then give Ester two long pulses—“ and you squeezed his hand twice, holding your grip for a long beat on each pulse. “—or if something was meant as a joke, you would do two, sharper pulses—kinda like you are saying ‘Ha’ ‘Ha’ “ and you gave his hand two, quick sharp pulses to the rhythm of a laugh.
You watched his face light up with delight as he asked you to show him other gestures and their meanings. Grinning, you happily obliged—excited to be the one explaining something for a change.
Ominis turned out to be an excellent study, asking good questions and repeating back instructions carefully. After only a few minutes he had learned the dozen or so pulses, able to replicate your movements and identifying which pulses were which.
“How fascinating. I cannot believe what muggles come up with sometimes.” He smiled warmly. “Thank you for showing me.” and you felt him squeeze your hand with a long pulse followed by a sharp one.
Gratitude.
“I am so glad you found it interesting. I—“ but you were interrupted by a voice to your left.
“I borrowed one of your ties Om—oh.”
Turing you saw Sebastian standing a few feet away, hands frozen where they had been manhandling an emerald neck tie. He looked between the two of you then at your joined hands.
Realizing what this must look like you tried to drop Ominis’ hand—but he maintained his gentle but firm grip on you.
“Please try and keep this one free of stains, would you?” he responded lazily, turning his head toward Sebastian with a dull expression. You watched a flicker of irritation cross the brunette’s freckled features.
“Yes, mum—so anyways, uh—what is going on here then?” he looks at you again, narrow eyes trained on yours as he watched your expression.
“Our new classmate was just showing me a muggle invention. Quite brilliant really.” and he winked in your direction, swinging your joined hands a little—clearly enjoying toying with his friend a bit—possibly payback for earlier irritations.
“Oh, that’s...nice.” He replied awkwardly “It’s good to see you two are getting along after that mix up yesterday.”
“Oh no, I still absolutely despise her.” he said flatly, his expression impassive. While his tone held zero humour, you suddenly felt two quick pulses on your fingers.
Your loud laugh pealed out across the common room as you failed to keep it bubbling out from your chest. Dropping your hand, the blonde joined you with his infectious chuckle, placing his freed hand on his stomach to calm himself.
Sebastian's face darkened a shade before he shook his head with apparent disinterest.
“Whatever, you loons. I’m starving—let’s eat.”
You nodded and trailed after Sebastian through the common room, Ominis following closely behind.
The rakish boy slowed his steps to fall beside you.
“So Bash, what’s on the schedule for your exciting second day in our hallowed halls?” and he threw his arm around your shoulders to guide you towards the exit, pulling you close, sealing your sides together in a friendly—but possessive gesture.
While a part of you wanted to shrug him off again—you allowed him to remain—this time, anyway.
His easy smiles and seemingly carefree persona had taken on another dimension in your mind. You saw his bravado and arrogance as a shield, protecting what must be a devastated heart.
You had resolved to do all you could help the Sallow twins in the time it took to cross the common room. The Ravenclaw alter clearly cared enough about them to use the last if her life to try and reverse their fate, how could you disregard such a request?
But as you walked with your new housemates through the serpentine doorway, you briefly wondered if the soul you were meant to be saving was the twin in Feldcroft—or the one pressed to your side.