Writing and struggling to draw. I'm taking a bit of a break from HL at the moment, sorry! (They/Them pronouns, unless it's difficult for you, in which case, any pronouns are fine!)
Welcome to the blog dedicated to my Hogwarts Legacy fanfics and artwork. I will be slowly cross-posting what I have written from AO3 but my latest chapters will always come out first on >AO3<. So I would recommend reading my works there, I also reply to all comments on the chapters, so you can ask about the story or give me feedback!
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Ominis struggles through each day, his family wants him to become exactly like his older siblings. Rich, powerful, selfish, and cruel adults. He refuses, if being kind and refusing to harm others for his own benefit means being a child, then he will be a child forever.
He hears a sweet whisper from the window. Then come away with me, to Neverland. Come with me and become Peter Pan.
Warnings: Sebastian x Ominis! A Peter Pan AU starring Ominis Gaunt as Peter Pan and Sebastian Sallow as Captain S. Hook!
You can also read on AO3! (chapter specific warnings below)
Notes:
Warnings: Hook (Sebastian) being slightly… concerning x3
I'm gonna be skipping an upload on my Welcome To Your Life series, life's been really hectic and I started writing another fic, fuck- I might actually just drop any sort of scheduling... but anyway, next chapter for It's My Own Design will be in like 5 weeks, I need a short break from the fandom I've been writing for almost a year haha
So my next upload is probably not gonna be a HL fic, but I'm still gonna finish my works, no worries, just taking a break to refresh my brain xD
“Thank you, Peter.” The mermaid sighs in relief as he strokes her hair, feeling it soften under his fingers, becoming lustrous and silky once more. “I haven't felt this alive in so long.”
He feels some curiosity at her words. “What was it like before I came here?”
“Oh, it was absolutely dreadful, dearest.” The mermaid moaned. “It was cold and cloudy. It rained every day, and everybody was getting old and ugly. We were so happy when the barrier appeared, because we knew it meant that Peter Pan had returned.”
“Barrier?” He asks, feeling her head lift from where it was resting on his lap.
“Around Neverland, it keeps us safe.” She places a hand against his cheek. “It's been down until you came back, so the exiled have been coming in to steal from us.”
“Exiled?” He frowns.
“Freaks who don't love Peter Pan.” She hisses sharply, and he jumps at her sudden vitriol. “They want to grow old and die, they think it's good! Even the kids over there! They're so weird! And they look at us like we're the weird ones!”
He blinks, that does sound strange, fellow children who wanted to grow old, even die, were they like his family then? “Do they like doing bad things?”
They steal! Anne chimes in from her spot on top of his head. They become pirates and take our stuff!
“That's right, they used to hurt and kill people too!” The mermaid sitting on a rock somewhere nearby also adds. “Though, they haven't done that in a while... I think.”
“Really? I don't remember.” Another mermaid hums absently and he can hear the sound of water splashing. “I just think it's fun to play with those ugly and wrinkled people when we catch them! Sometimes we get really nice new playmates!”
He feels uncomfortable about the way she says that, so he asks. “Play? How do you play with them?”
She hums for a moment before answering casually. “Hm, whatever we feel like doing at the time, we might poke holes in them and play with the red that comes out, or maybe we'll hug them underwater, they wiggle a lot and do a funny dance when we do that!”
“Yeaaah! But then they stop and they’re not fun to play with anymore.” The previous mermaid whines. “Boooooring...”
“Surely Peter Pan knows, a game isn't fun without getting to do what you want with the prize, after all!” The mermaid on his lap giggles, kissing him on the cheek sweetly and he can barely feel it from horror.
“You kill them?” He gasps in alarm.
“So what?” She shrugs. “It's fun.”
“They want to die anyway.” The second mermaid adds. “So it's fine, isn't it?”
“Yeah! And it's not our fault they didn't learn to breathe underwater, maybe they just need more practice.” The third giggles and he finds himself at a loss for words.
It's all in good fun, they don't mean any harm. Anne assures him, and he isn't sure how to feel about that.
The mermaids’ words did indeed not feel like the way his family talked about hurting people, there was something childlike and playful about the girls’ talk. His family wanted to hurt others in a cold way, they knew what they were doing and liked it, felt powerful from it. These girls were just playing, they didn't understand.
If that was the case, then perhaps all that needed to be done was to keep them away from anyone who didn't like playing that way. It was probably for everybody's good that the barrier kept the pirates away from Neverland.
Still, exiles...
“Can these pirate exiles hurt me?” He asks Anne.
Hm, hurt, maaaybe. Anne admits. But they can't kill you, nothing born of Neverland can kill you.
“I see...” He murmurs, well, at least he wouldn't have to worry about it unless the barrier comes down.
“Peter!” He hears Poppy calling out from a distance. “I found some squirrels! Come play!”
“Coming!” He calls back, giving the mermaid beside him a pat on the hand and standing. “Bye, ladies.”
“Aw, do you have to go?” She grumbles.
“There's always tomorrow.” He smiles as he takes to the sky, hearing the other ladies wish him farewell.
“Come visit again tomorrow!” They cry out and he smiles, he really can't imagine them harming anyone, they were precious and needed protection.
Peter! Over here! Anne's voice is musical as always, and he follows without question.
The sun's warmth feels nice on his skin, and Peter smiles. The last few... - weeks? Months? Days? He supposes it doesn't matter - have been some of the best of his life. No schoolwork, no berating, no fear, no lectures about living up to the family name, no lonely nights spent crying. Just fun games with his friends, swimming with the mermaids, listening to the exciting stories told by the Indians, flying through the sky without care.
He's not sure how long he spent healing the denizens of his new home, enjoying the praise they'd heaped on him. It feels big to him, but Anne tells him that Neverland isn't even a tenth of Britain, that that is the reason he was able to heal everyone so easily and quickly.
Neverland is perfect, the temperature is always comfortable, the people love him, his friends are wonderful. The days are filled with excitement and energy, and when Peter begins to feel tired, night is never far behind. It even never rains when he doesn't want it to, he truly is King here, over everything. It's an amazing place and he can't believe it's his, he never wants to leave.
So, when he hears a scream, he startles so much that he almost falls, catching himself in the air, he asks Anne worriedly. “Anne, what was that!?”
It came from the shore! Hurry, Peter! Anne shouts and he follows her, flying as fast as he can, while his friends dutifully follow behind him.
The sound of screams and shouts grow louder as he approaches and he asks desperately. “What's happening!?”
Pirates! Anne replies. Pirates are attacking!
“Pirates, here!?” He gasps, and he recalls the mermaids’ words. “What happened to the barrier!?”
They must have broken it! Anne answers and Peter feels fear for the first time since he arrived. Don't be afraid, you will win, Peter Pan always wins! You're Peter Pan, our hero!
He swallows, Anne has not lied to him since he met her, if she says he can win, she must be right. This wasn't back home, this was a completely different world, the rules were different here, he wasn't just a weak blind boy, the runt of a noble family. Here, he is Peter Pan, the King of Neverland.
They're led by Captain Hook! Anne tells him and she describes the scene as they draw near. He's got a little Indian girl by the arm, and everyone is too afraid for her to attack him, your people need you, Peter!
He swallows and nods, he can be brave. He's scared of getting hurt, but he doesn't want his people to get hurt either.
Peter shouts to his friends. “Get everyone else out of here, I'll handle this!”
“Yes sir!” The lost kids squeak together.
“Be careful, Peter!” Poppy calls as they fly off to follow his instructions.
He's terrified, honestly, but he flies towards the girl's cries as fast as he can.
“Help! Let me go!”
Peter can hear her shouting and then he hears another voice, one clearly from a man, though he didn't sound that much older than Peter himself. This Captain Hook presumably.
“Don't struggle, you'll injure yourself. I won't hurt you.” The voice is deep yet oddly gentle for a pirate, and for some reason, it causes a shiver to run through Peter. Though the girl doesn't acknowledge his words, only continues calling for help as though she can't hear him, and the captain's voice sounds almost relieved when Peter's feet land on the beach. “Ah, there you are.”
Peter feels eyes on him, they're heavy and intense, and he swallows, shouting. “Let her go, pirate!”
“Sure.” The voice says and Peter is caught off guard by the easy concession, only for the man to follow up with. “I will if you take her place.”
You can't trust a pirate! Anne shouts. You'll need to make him release her, use your knife!
My knife!? Peter feels a moment of fear at her words.
Don't worry, I'll guide you! Anne assures and he swallows as he draws the short dagger she'd given him.
“I- I don't believe you.” Peter says to the pirate with a glare.
“Is that what she's told you?” The man asks. “What's your name?”
“Peter Pan.” Peter answers.
“No, I mean your real name.” Hook clarifies.
“I-” Peter pauses, and a long moment of silence passes as he searches his mind, though his hesitation seems to have made Hook upset.
“What is your name?” The man's voice sounds a little strained now. “Tell me.”
His name is Peter Pan! Anne shouts at Hook.
“It's not!” Hook shouts back, and the man sounds angry now, almost desperate. “Please, boy. Remember, you have to remember your name!”
“I-” Peter stammers for a moment more, before he admits, to his own surprise. “I don't- I don't remember.”
“No...” The man murmurs and Peter can hear footsteps as the girl Hook had been holding flees, had he let her go? His voice sounds devastated and, despite himself, Peter almost feels bad for him. “I'm too late...”
The girl is free! You can kill him now! Anne nudges at Peter and he gasps.
“Kill!?” He exclaims, he's supposed to kill this man?
Yes, you're Peter Pan, our hero! Anne whispers in his heart and he feels his grip on his knife shake.
“But-” Peter hesitates, but the girl wasn't in danger any more, he had no reason to do that, wasn't this the reason he'd fled his home? Because he didn't want to be a cruel adult like his parents. His parents... his parents... what were their names again? Did he... did he have siblings?
No, this isn't cruelty, you're protecting us! Anne argues and he is brought back to the moment. Think of your friends, the Indians and the mermaids!
That's right, his people, his friends. Peter's grip tightens and his teeth clench.
“Don't listen to her!” Hook shouts, and Peter stiffens when he hears the hiss of metal, the sound of a blade being drawn. “Anne wants us to fight, but we don't have to.”
“You threatened my people!” Peter shouts back.
“Please.” The man's voice is strained again. “I don't want to kill you.”
Peter jolts in surprise. “No, you- you can't kill me, nothing born of Neverland can, that's what Anne said.”
“I'm not born of Neverland.” Hook's words make Peter's grip on his dagger shake again. “You and I are the only Earth humans in Neverland, we are the only ones that can kill each other.”
Anger surges through him, and Peter demands of Anne. “Is that true!?”
Er- well, yes, but- Anne stammers and Peter grinds his teeth together. She lied to him!
“I only want to speak with you in private.” Hook states evenly. “Grant me this and I will leave your people alone.”
Peter hesitates and Anne interjects again. You can't trust a pirate!
“I- I can't trust you.” Peter finally replies and he hears Anne flutter happily, until he continues. “Not yet. Prove it first. Leave.”
Peter! Anne exclaims, but he ignores her.
She was back on the dubiously trustworthy list. Would she have told him the truth if he'd decided to fight? Or just let Peter fight Hook, thinking he was invincible, and hope that he wins? First it's nobody can hurt you, oh oops, I forgot to mention that exile pirates can, but nobody can kill you, oh but Captain Hook can. Liar.
An amused huff comes from the man, along with the sound of Hook's blade sliding back into its sheath. “Very well. I will return in a week. If that will suffice.”
Peter shifts, uncertain, now that he has nobody's lead to follow, was that long enough? He supposes so, the man hasn't hurt anyone or stolen anything, yet. So, he nods curtly.
“Captain, are you-”
Peter hears a woman speak and she is immediately interrupted by Hook. “Natty, we're returning to the Jolly Roger.”
The man's voice is a clear command, yet tempered by affection, somehow. It sounds nice, and makes Peter feel a strange sensation in his stomach, though he isn't sure why, and there is no further protest from the woman.
In a matter of minutes, the pirates have left the shores of Neverland and Peter breathes a sigh of relief, putting his dagger away.
Peter, you can't trust him! Anne insists and Peter feels a flash of annoyance.
“Why? Has he hurt people before?” Peter asks.
That's- well, the last pirate captain did. And Captain Hook has been stealing from us for years! She answers evasively and Peter narrows his eyes.
“And what happened to that last Captain?” He folds his arms.
I don't know. She replies flippantly and he purses his lips, he doesn't know if he can trust her but there isn't anyone else he can ask.
“Where is the girl? I want to check on her. She must be scared.” Peter says instead, maybe he can ask the chieftain to confirm the fairy's words, and Anne flies off towards the nearby village.
He follows with some trepidation, well, at least he doesn't have to worry about this Captain till next week. He is already dreading the coming of night. Six sleeps, and he will have to face Hook again.
Hook released a grunt as he climbed the ladder that'd been lowered to the small tender he'd gone ashore with. Relieved to be back aboard his ship, he let out a heavy sigh. Being on land was disorienting after all these years on the sea.
“Welcome back, Captain. How did it go?” The Sailing Master, Amit - a young man with dark skin - asked with a nervous smile.
Hook grimaced as he cast his gaze across the members of his crew standing about, their faces filled with anticipation. “Unfortunately, we were too late, he's already forgotten his name.”
The crew's expressions fell, and Hook felt their disappointment as his own.
“What will we do now, Captain?” Natty asked, and Hook gave her a grateful smile, his Quartermaster has always kept him focused on the task at hand, kept him from brooding on his many failings.
“I will try to negotiate with him. He has given us a chance to prove ourselves trustworthy. That is - in and of itself - a good sign.” Hook answered and he can see hope begin to return to the faces of his crew.
Well, to most of them.
“We've simply taken what we need from Neverland for years, why can't we just continue doing so?” Ranrok, the leader of his Boarding Party, immediately challenged and Hook sighed, reminding himself that Ranrok is still - understandably - angry at Neverland for what they'd done.
“Because this is another chance to break the cycle.” Hook answered, narrowing his eyes at the man. “Wouldn't you rather we have peace? That we can simply trade with Neverland for what we need?”
“They live forever. What makes you think they would forget our history with them and just let peace happen?” Ranrok scoffed, and - worryingly - there were others in the crew who seemed to think this a valid concern, young Leander was even nodding along.
“They're not like you.” Hook shook his head. “You who live on the unpredictable seas, you who age and understand the importance of a peaceful death, care for more than yourselves. The children of Neverland fear nothing more than the loss of Peter Pan, the loss of their youth. If we have his allegiance, they will follow.”
“Or you can kill him.” Ranrok growled.
“And begin the eternal storm again? How many people did we lose when there was no Peter Pan? That is a last resort, not our first recourse.” Hook shook his head. “As long as the current Peter Pan is alive, there cannot be another, we must take advantage of that and try to win him over.”
When the man's expression didn't change, Hook raised his chin and drew his rapier, pointing its tip at Ranrok, and the tension in the air rose sharply.
“The Keeper's sacrifice is why we have this chance, if you don't agree, you can go back to Neverland.” A dark smirk spread across Hook's face. “Though I doubt you'll last long without Peter Pan's protection.”
Natty snorted, folding her arms and adding. “Surely you remember what the mermaids did to Lodgok. Do you miss the fickle cruelty of the immortal? Forgotten how much they hate us because we are different?”
Ranrok grimaced at the reminder of his gentle brother who had been caught by the mermaids, while he was gathering fresh water, and was torn apart and drowned for fun.
“Look, I understand why the idea of peace doesn't sit well with you, Ranrok.” Hook sighed, lowering his blade. “Lodgok has been lost to us. But are you angry enough to risk more of us joining him?”
Ranrok looked away and Hook took that as a concession, sheathing his rapier.
“I, for one, would rather my daughter grow up without fear of storms. To know she will have the chance to grow old and return to us peacefully.” Adelaide agreed.
“Isn't she most likely the second coming of old man Godric?” Lucan snickered. “I'd be more worried about the mischief she'll get up to.”
The sound of laughter spread across the deck and Hook was relieved that the heavy atmosphere had been lifted with the help of his Gunners.
“Captain!” The sound of a door opening and the squeals of children rang out, and Captain Hook quickly found himself tackled to the floor by a gaggle of toddlers.
“Sorry, Cap!” An elderly man ambled out with an apologetic smile.
“It's quite alright, Professor Fig. I'm sure you held your own against them as best you could.” Hook chuckled as he patted one of the giggling girls on the head, eyes softening as she beamed up at him.
That's right, this was why he stayed, why he suffered, so that the children of his crew - his old friends - could grow up, grow old, and be reborn. The way that life was supposed to be, not the shallow perversion of it that Neverlanders thought was happiness.
For that, he would do anything.
Peter groans as he wakes, he feels terrible.
He almost misses the soft fluffy bed back home, well, not really. While it had felt better to sleep on, he was much happier going to sleep surrounded by friends and he wouldn't trade that for the cold loneliness he'd grown up in. Even if sleeping in a pile of leaves, tangled with the other kids, was hurting his back.
Somehow, the week has felt incredibly long, the days stretching on till his body ached and his mind became hazy under the sun's burning light, before finally turning to night as he collapsed in his bed of leaves. His nights were no better, filled with nightmares of pain, voiceless scolding and screams in his ears.
“Peter, are you alright?” He hears Poppy's voice by his ear, and he forces himself to smile reassuringly as he reaches a hand out for her to take.
“I'm alright, just tired.” Peter yawns and sits up sluggishly with her assistance, his head hurts.
“There's some ruckus by the shore.” Garreth's voice comes next, and Peter has to think for a minute, before he remembers.
That's right, the pirate captain was supposed to come back in a week. That's why he'd been so stressed. A part of him feels like he should be concerned about his memory, but it hasn't been a problem, and he can't exactly do anything about it, so he shrugs it off. Thinking is hard with his head hurting like this anyway.
“I have to go meet Captain Hook.” Peter murmurs.
You shouldn't go. Anne says and he frowns.
“The man did as I asked, the pirates have done nothing for a week.” Peter gets to his feet, and for a moment, the world feels like it's spinning.
I won't guide you. Anne's voice is stubborn and petulant, and Peter feels a flash of anger that makes his head hurt even more.
“Have it your way. Poppy, could you guide me there?” Peter asks instead.
“O- of course!” The girl's voice is nervous as she takes his hand.
“I can help too!” Garreth exclaims enthusiastically and his voice rattles about Peter's skull painfully.
With an annoyed glare, he waves a hand in Garreth's direction. “One is enough, everyone else stay here. Let's go, Poppy.”
“Um, okay!” She answers, and Garreth's disappointed whinging sees them off as Peter flies from the base with Poppy.
The sun's rays feel irritatingly hot on his skin today, and he longs to soak in the cool waters of the lagoon, but he has a promise to keep, so he pushes aside his headache.
At the very least, he was glad that, while most of Neverland's residents weren't too pleased about this truce with the pirates, there hadn't been much fuss. Mostly just frustrated grumbles about how it didn't make sense for him to not just beat the bad guys and be their hero, and while they were annoying and tiring, at least there wasn't any fighting.
And he wanted to keep it that way.
So, as they approach the beach, Peter is pleased to hear from Poppy that there was indeed no fighting and that the three pirates standing on the shore were neither attacking - nor being attacked - by the Indian warriors that had gathered to block off any further intrusion to their land.
At his request, Poppy guides Peter to stand on the shore, between the two groups, and he greets politely. “Captain Hook.”
There is a quiet hum, before the smooth voice of the pirate captain reaches his ears. “Peter, I'm glad you didn't forget me.”
Said ears immediately turn red, and Peter folds his arms. “And I'm glad you stayed away.”
“Of course. I said I would, and I always keep my word.” The man's smile can be heard in his voice and Peter feels strange again. It sounds like teasing, but not the unpleasant kind that Peter vaguely recalls from school. “Now, will you speak with me? I've kept my end of the bargain.”
Peter hesitates for a moment, before nodding. “We can talk, but not on your ship. We can talk in private on Neverland.”
“Captain-” That sounds like the woman that was with Hook the last time, hissing in warning.
“Sure.” The captain ignores her and Peter can hear him walking towards him.
“Wait.” Peter says, fear of pain creeping into his heart again. “Leave your weapon.”
“That's ridiculous-” An unfamiliar man's voice.
“Captain, you can't-” The woman exclaims again.
“Alright.” Even Peter is surprised that Hook is agreeing so easily. “But you have to leave yours here as well.”
Okay, that makes more sense. Peter nods and draws his dagger, dropping it onto the sand as the captain does the same with his long blade.
“We can stay on the beach, within sight of your pirates.” Peter suggests, feeling a little bad about worrying the captain's companions so much. “There's a cave to the north that we can speak in.”
“That's very generous of you.” The captain's voice is slightly amused and Peter huffs, raising his hand towards the man.
He hears the captain approach and the man's footsteps crunch in the sand. Peter can tell from the heavy footfalls that Hook is slightly taller, before the footsteps come to a halt in front of him.
Then there are warm fingers around Peter's and the gentle press of something soft against the back of his hand. He's confused for a moment, and he hears Poppy squeal beside him, before he feels a hot breath warm his wrist and understanding dawns on him.
Peter thinks his face is probably red, whatever that looks like, but what the hell!? He wasn't a maiden, what was the man doing!?
“Shall we?” Hook's voice is even smoother up close, and when Peter tries to pull his hand back, the man's fingers tighten around his own. His grip is firm but not cruel, tight but not digging into Peter's flesh painfully. It feels like a request rather than a demand, and his tone is almost playful. “Now now, if you let go, I won't be able to guide you.”
“I- I-” Peter splutters at the smirk in the man's voice, feeling very much off balance. Hook was nothing like any adult he'd ever met.
“So, north, you said?” Hook chuckles, urging him forward with the gentlest of tugs, and at a loss for anything else to do or say, Peter follows.
The two walk silently for several moments, Hook's stride is audibly wider than his own, but the man keeps pace with Peter, rather than dragging him along impatiently, like he vaguely remembers his father doing. The man's hand dwarfs his own and is rougher, but the sensation isn't unpleasant, more like well-worn linen, and Peter wants to rub his fingers over the fascinating texture.
It's also distractingly warm and Peter jumps when the man speaks. “Where is Anne by the way?”
“Oh, she... didn't want to come.” Peter answers quietly, trying to figure out what the mysterious man wants.
“I see.” Hook hums, before asking curiously. “How old are you?”
“...fifteen.” Peter replies after a moment of thought.
“Really? I wouldn't have guessed that.” The captain sounds surprised but there isn't any scepticism in his tone. “You look older than that, though I suppose you behave younger than fifteen too.”
Peter stops in his tracks, bristling. “There's nothing wrong with being less like a nasty adult.”
There's an uncomfortable pause and Peter feels Hook's hand stiffen around his own for a moment, before it relaxes. “What makes you hate adults so much?”
Peter feels like he had been lulled into lowering his guard and is now being interrogated, it's a familiar unpleasant feeling and his prior tranquillity burns into defensive anger. He snaps back before he can stop himself. “What makes adults always so angry, so greedy and selfish? Only caring about appearances and not caring how the weak feel.”
There's a few moments of tense silence, and he braces to be hit or scolded, before Hook speaks, and - to Peter's surprise - the man sounds sad. “We're not all like that. I know what you're talking about. I don't- I don't remember him very well anymore, but my uncle... he was kind of like that too.”
Peter relaxes slightly at his words, and that feeling of guilt starts coming back, now with a side of shame, and Hook sighs.
“My parents... they died when I was little. Then- then my twin.” Hook murmurs wistfully. “I was stuck with my uncle all alone. I had nothing to stay for, so I came to Neverland.”
Peter feels something familiar, a warm sensation, the feeling of being understood. A memory surfaces in his mind, the kind voice of a woman, saying words he couldn’t really understand.
‘I've been doing research on our ancestor, I might be able to get them to see reason. I'll be back, I love you, Omi-’
The memory slips away and he frowns, his heart hurts. Liar. She never came back, did she. But who was she, and what was that last word? What was it she'd called him? “Omi...”
“Hm?” Hook makes a confused sound.
Peter shakes his head and the world spins again. “...my name...”
The man takes him by the shoulders, his voice suddenly excited. “You remember!?”
“I- sort of, I don't think it's all there.” Peter blinks in surprise.
“Omi...” Hook repeats the word. “I suppose it's at least something, perhaps if you keep trying, you'll be able to remember the rest of it, Omi.”
“I- my name is Peter now.” Peter shakes his head, slower this time, and the world remains upright.
The captain sighs as he releases Peter's shoulders. “Yes, I suppose it is...”
“Why do you want to know my name anyway?” Peter asks, it's been bugging him for a while now.
“It's not for me, it's fae law.” Hook explains, tugging him forward again, and the two continue walking. “If you forget your name, you lose power over your own fate. You'll need to know your own name if you ever want to leave Neverland. Otherwise, the only escape is death.”
“Why would I want to leave?” Peter scoffs, what a ludicrous suggestion.
“I thought that too, once.” Hook's voice is so bitter it almost hurts to hear. “But every paradise can turn into a cage. You may not want to leave now, but you should remember your name. So that you can, if you ever need to.”
Peter falls silent at those ominous words, a cage. He swallows, like his room, his house, his family.
“I'm sorry.” Hook murmurs after a moment. “I didn't mean to scare you. How about you ask me some questions? I'm sure you have them.”
Peter takes the offered distraction and thinks to himself for a few moments before asking. “Why do you attack and steal from Neverland?”
“Because we need to.” Hook replies simply. “We cannot survive on the sea forever, my crew need to eat sour fruits from Neverland, lime or lemons, otherwise they will get sick. And we need fresh water to drink when it doesn't rain.”
Peter blinks in surprise, well, that certainly was a straightforward answer.
“Oh, is this it? Careful, there's several steps here.” Hook says, and Peter yelps when he feels hands under his knees, the world shifts, and then he's pressed against a warm broad chest. Being carried, cradled gently, as the heat of the sun on his skin fades away.
For the first time since Anne lied, he feels safe.
“Did I startle you? My apologies, I should have warned you.” Hook's voice rumbles through his body and Peter cannot help the heat that has returned to his cheeks. “There, I think we can sit here.”
He feels the man set him down on a rock and while a part of him misses the sensation of being held so carefully, the other is indignant to be treated like a- well, like a child. So, Peter sits up primly, even though he's feeling a little dizzy now, and continues his previous line of questioning, content to pretend that the last few minutes hadn’t happened.
“Why don't you just ask Neverland for what you need?” He listens as Hook sits down beside him on the rock.
“We have.” Hook gives him another bitter chuckle and Peter thinks he prefers the man's laughter when they had been on the beach. “But Neverlanders don't like mine.”
Peter hums, he supposed that was true, the mermaids called the pirates wrinkled and ugly. Hm... Now, he is curious. An idea comes to him and excitement makes it easier to ignore the headache that has been creeping back in in the absence of anxiety.
Tipping his head to the side, Peter asks. “Can I see you?”
“See?” Hook pauses for a moment, before he seems to realise what Peter means. “Oh, oh, um, sure.”
For once, Hook sounds nervous and awkward, and nothing happens for a moment, before the man takes a deep breath, and then Peter's hands are being guided up to touch his face.
The man's skin is warm and Peter wonders if his face is as red as his own. Hook's brow is strong, and his nose is rather straight, his cheeks are surprisingly soft, slightly springy with baby fat, and his jaw is not as square as Peter had expected, but it's definitely a man's jawline, there's even the slightest hint of peach fuzz against his fingertips.
Peter shivers as the man's warm breath fans across his face. All in all, not ugly at all. Even though Hook had some lines between his eyes and around the corners, they felt... nice, gentle, like they were supposed to be there. The mermaids mustn't be referring to Hook then, perhaps it was his crew that were wrinkled and ugly?
“You don't look that old.” Peter remarks and he feels the man's lips curl upwards in a smile, one that makes his heart thump loudly in his chest.
“Trust me, I'm much older than I look.” The man chuckles wryly.
“Really? How much?” Peter asks curiously and the captain's smile drops.
“I-” Hook huffs. “Honestly, I'm not sure, time passes strangely here and even our people age slowly. But I do know that I've lived through at least two of my crew's lifetimes, and a lifetime here can be anywhere from a hundred to two hundred Earth years.”
“That long?” Peter's eyes are wide. Huh, now that he mentioned it, time did feel like it passed strangely, especially this week...
“It moves with Peter Pan.” Hook murmurs, and Peter feels fingers trace over his own cheek. “This week lasted twice as long as it otherwise would have. Were you scared of meeting with me?”
Peter's breath catches and his eyelids flutter at the light sensation, goosebumps rising on his skin. He can't remember the last time someone has touched his face, it feels nice.
“Are you still scared?” The man whispers and Peter feels Hook's lips move against his fingers.
“N- not really.” Peter swallows, his chest feels hot, and his head is starting to throb again, but it no longer feels painful. “Not anymore.”
“Good.” Hook murmurs, placing a hand over Peter's and pressing a kiss to his palm, sending shivers up his spine.
“Should I be?” Peter asks.
“No.” Hook answers firmly. “I'm not your enemy. I don't want to be.”
“Oh, that's good.” Peter echoes faintly, the heat is making him feel even more dizzy.
“If you'll let me, I'd like to become friends with you.” Hook says and Peter feels like he's having a hard time focusing on his words. His voice is nice.
“Hm... okay.” Peter murmurs and sways forward, his hands drop to Hook's shoulders, gripping for stability, the man's body is so warm... he remembers how nice being carried felt.
Peter wants that warmth, and with his heart so loud in his head, he can't think of any reasons why not. Why not reach out and take what he wanted? Hook wanted to be his friend, he probably wouldn't mind sharing some warmth. Everything in Neverland was Peter's after all.
He moves forward without thinking, and nestles himself against that lovely warmth. It's just as wonderful as he'd imagined, and it makes his head feel nice and floaty. Peter closes his eyes, and within moments, he's sound asleep.
Hook stared down at the curled-up teenager in his lap with some confusion. One moment he's answering questions, the next, he's getting felt up and wondering if it would be bad if he stole a kiss from those pretty pink lips, and now the boy was sleeping on him.
Well, he had looked really tired, Hook took a quick glance outside the cave, and as expected the sky had gone from a midday sun to sunset within seconds. No doubt it felt perfect to Omi, to have this world revolve around him, but to everyone else it's just unnatural and disturbing.
Hook sighed and leaned back against the wall of the cave, he supposed he was stuck here now, until the boy woke up from his nap.
He didn't want to risk waking the lad, the Keeper had warned him about the dangers of disturbing Peter Pan's sleep. Depending on what the King was dreaming of, it could unleash monsters into Neverland, like the Kraken that had been born from the Keeper’s nightmares. Or the damn giant crocodile that the first King had birthed.
He gazed down at the pretty blond boy. Omi... of course the boy had to have a strange and uncommon name, it couldn't have been Jona from Jonathan, or Rod from Rodger, or Jim for James. Of course not. Who the hell's name starts with ‘Omi’!?
The boy whimpered in his sleep and Hook automatically stroked a hand over that soft blond hair to soothe him. He wondered why Anne had chosen such an old child. Fifteen was far older than any Peter Pan in recorded history.
Though, Omi certainly behaved younger than his age and appearance. It could be the influence of Neverland, the land's timeless monotony, and its endlessly childlike people had that effect on every human who stepped foot on its soil. Though, to be so strongly affected, the boy would have to be incredibly in tune with Neverland. Almost as much as the first King who created the land.
Or perhaps he was just like this to begin with? Hook wondered if the boy had been a noble, he certainly carried himself like one and spoke like one, perhaps he was childlike because he was a pampered prince back in the human world. Yet, Hook knew how unlikely that was. Peter Pan has been a boy, a girl, everything in between and neither, rich and poor, black and white, but they have all had one thing in common.
Broken.
Every Peter Pan has been broken in some way, to greater or lesser degrees. Every Peter Pan hates adults and fears them, for one reason or another. Perhaps Omi's excessively childlike nature came from being abused for being a noble, or he had abusive noble parents, perhaps they didn't like him being blind.
Speaking of blindness, it was strange for Anne to choose a child that couldn't fight. How was this boy to kill Hook when he couldn’t even see him? There must be some reason. The Keeper may have cursed Anne till their dying breath, called the fairy evil incarnate for trapping children in this never-ending hell, but Hook still felt like there was more to her than simply being Neverland's puppetmaster.
Well, he supposed he would find out, and honestly, he was glad that the boy wasn't too young.
Omi could hold a conversation, he had asked all the questions a good and kind leader would ask. He'd bravely stood up for his people, even though anyone could tell that he was scared, and he'd hesitated to kill. He'd even cited his duty and concern for his people as his reason for standing up to Hook, rather than some childish fantasy about being a hero.
Such nobility and accountability was unheard of from a Peter Pan, the maturity required to understand that pain and death carried weight and thus hesitate? Even he hadn't had that when he was a kid.
Hook huffed, God, he must have been absolutely awful for the Keeper to deal with as a kid. After all this time, he could barely remember it, but Hook was fairly certain that he'd been a bouncy and hyperactive kid with too much courage and too little forethought.
And it helped that Omi was pretty. Really pretty. Neat blond hair that was - thankfully - not stuck under that ridiculous cap that Anne always tried to force on Peter Pans. Beautiful pale eyes that reminded him of the moon, eyelashes that would make mermaids jealous, soft pale cheeks speckled with beauty marks that disappeared under his collar.
Actually, perhaps all that wasn’t such a good thing. It was certainly making it very hard for Hook to focus on discussing a treaty when all he could think of was pinning the boy to the rock and finding out how far down those beauty marks went.
He knows it's wrong, the Keeper had said as much when he'd thrown himself at them, Hook was too young, the Keeper was too much older. They'd murmured for him to stop, as he pressed kisses to their neck and begged them to teach him what it meant to be an adult, like the members of their crew.
They'd given in eventually, held him down and given him everything he wanted. They'd been so worried, but he'd had no regrets, none at all. He'd remained celibate after the Keeper, waiting for however long it'd taken for Anne to find the next Peter Pan. It hurt too much, to imagine staying the same, as whichever crewmate he took to bed... aged and died.
He knows their Pirate Creed teaches not to run from pain, but Hook has no escape. There would be no peaceful farewell surrounded by loved ones. Death would never come for him - he smiles softly as he runs his fingers through Omi's hair - except at the hands of this boy.
Hook had almost given up hoping for a Peter Pan who might even have the potential to be a suitable companion, someone he felt any sort of attraction towards.
Such a strange feeling, to hold in his arms, the one person who can save him or destroy him. Omi is the beauty and Hook, the beast, locked in his castle, waiting to be freed. Was this what the Keeper had felt whenever they looked at Hook? Love, fear, hope, despair, lust, and disgust. Is he wearing the same expression on his face right now?
He traced his thumb over the boy's plump lower lip. It's so wrong and so right at the same time, and Hook has never been able to stop himself when he wants something. It was so perfect though, he was so perfect, this sweet boy.
Hook could fall in love with him, and if Omi broke his heart, he would at least be free. He could experience the joy that brought his beloved unflinching and stoic Keeper to actual tears, the relief and love with which they'd breathed their apologies and gratitude in his ear. That quiet final breath that he has never been able to forget.
And if he didn't, if little Omi was truly the one for him, the one who wouldn't leave him, then Hook would finally have his happily ever after. He would have someone to love in his eternity, someone to love without the fear of loss or abandonment.
The Keeper had warned him that he shouldn't get his hopes up, that the emptiness in his heart might not be something that someone could fill, like theirs had been. It had hurt at the time, to know Hook hadn't been enough to heal them, but he was undaunted. He wouldn’t despair till he'd been proven wrong, till it was undeniable that his tale was to end in similar tragedy.
He was almost happy that the boy had forgotten his name now. Though he'd keep his promise to the Keeper and help every Peter Pan escape if they ever remembered it - no matter how much it hurt - but he didn't feel like that would happen. Little Omi had remembered half, enough to love, to cherish, but not enough to escape.
The Keeper had always told Hook to temper his expectations, to resist the urge to cry victory before the battle had been won, but how could he? When this beautiful boy, with his gentle voice and marble eyes, when this beautiful creature was Hook's destiny.
Just a taste, surely, it would be alright. A little taste to whet his appetite, a preview of their future together.
He cradled the boy's face in his hand and leaned down to steal a kiss. It's light and gentle, the barest touch, but it was enough to feel exhilarating, Omi's lips felt soft against his own and he fought the urge to taste more. Not like this, he wanted the boy awake, longing for him, the way he'd pined for the Keeper.
His breath was embarrassingly heavy just from that chaste peck and he had to take a deep gulp of air to keep from grinding against the boy in his lap, but he exercised all the restraint and patience he'd learnt over his long life to achieve this one task.
To wait.
He has waited for an eternity. He could wait a little longer.
Notes:
This fic in a nutshell; what happens when two touch-starved people are stuck together for eternity.
Has anyone noticed a little trick I've been employing with this fic? I write Ominis' perspective in present tense, while Sebastian's is in past tense. I always feel like past tense has a more complex flavour to it, while present tense feels simpler, and because I like to torture challenge myself, I decided to play with tenses x')
For anyone who hasn't read my main ongoing series, the Keeper is my Hogwarts Legacy MC, they're just here as a cameo in this fic, and if you like how messed up they are, you're welcome to read my main series xD
Also, now now, Ominis, Anne didn't lie, she just didn't tell you, like how Sebastian said “Understood.” outside the Scriptorium and how he didn't tell you about the relic.
Pfffftt haha, yeah this Ominis isn't having that bullshit either xP
Here's a cool piece of trivia, British ships used to use lime juice to stave off scurvy and their sailors were mocked by American sailors, calling the British sailors “limeys” because they didn't believe lime juice, of all things, could cure scurvy.
Mm, whelp, it took like 70+ years before America started to consider that the British miiiiight be onto something there and start trying it out too. Kinda like how Britain stubbornly stuck with steam for ages while America was moving to electricity.
Hindsight is 20/20 ey?
The lesson here is to take empirical evidence seriously, even if it doesn't make sense to you or you don't like the people who are telling you the info, that doesn't mean you stop listening to what objective data is saying.
Ominis struggles through each day, his family wants him to become exactly like his older siblings. Rich, powerful, selfish, and cruel adults. He refuses, if being kind and refusing to harm others for his own benefit means being a child, then he will be a child forever.
He hears a sweet whisper from the window. Then come away with me, to Neverland. Come with me and become Peter Pan.
Warnings: Sebastian x Ominis! A Peter Pan AU starring Ominis Gaunt as Peter Pan and Sebastian Sallow as Captain S. Hook!
You can also read on AO3! (chapter specific warnings below)
Notes:
I'm gonna be straight, right off the bat, Ominis is gonna be a tad OOC in this one. In the sense that his history is different and that means he's not the same person from Hogwarts Legacy, no Potterverse magic because AU and all that, but I'll still keep him as Ominis at the core as I can.
This fic won't have an upload schedule because it's a side project, if I do upload, it'll probably be on weekends where my main series’ chapters aren't going up. Also, this chapter is super short because it's a prologue, the other chapters will be longer. Not toooo sure how many chapters there will be, but it's unlikely to go past ten.
...I think. x'D
In other news, my friend got me to play Mouthwashing, an absolutely amazing yet short 2hr game, and the Curly/Jimmy ship crashed into me like it was the Titanic, so I'm writing another fic for them too, fuck- OTL help-
Look, those gay assholes have almost the exact same dynamic as Sebastian and Ominis, just faaaar more twisted, fucked up, and toxically codependent, you cannot blame me.
Ominis strains his ears by his window, he must be hallucinating. There is no other explanation for why he would be hearing wings fluttering on the other side of the smooth glass, along with a voice. People can't fly. Against his better judgement, he unlatches the window, maybe it was someone who needed help? But who would be hanging outside his window at this height? His room was on the third floor!
A tinkle of music dances through the air, and his heart stops as the beating of little wings becomes undeniable. Wings, the tinkle of bells, a soft voice that felt like it spoke directly to his heart rather than his ears?
The word drifts into his mind, fairy. Like in the Braille fairytales his older brother oft mocked him for continuing to read, but what else could it be?
Hehe, would you like to see me? Go ahead, little one!
Her laugh is lovely to hear and at her invitation, he touches her with trembling fingers. She's beautiful. Little smooth wings attached to tiny shoulder blades, he imagined them shimmering with flecks of silver and starlight, like in the books. On the top of her head is an adorable bun of hair and she wears a dress that feels like the leaves of a tree.
She giggles and he feels embarrassed. My name is Anne! I heard your wish, you want to be a child forever.
“Ominis, Ominis Gaunt.” He answers politely and bites his lip, hope blooming in his chest. “Can you grant my wish?”
I can! She twirls on his palm, she's so small. Come with me. little one. There is a magical world waiting for you, a place where children never have to grow up.
There must be a catch, nothing is free, but at the same time, did any of his parents’ teachings apply here? This was a fairy. She must have felt the purity of his desire, this was his reward for holding strong, his escape, right?
“Alright.” Ominis nods firmly. “I'll come with you.”
He never sees the victorious grin that spreads across her face as she sprinkles dust over his blond head and guides him out through the window. Away from everything he has ever known.
Onwards, to Neverland.
The Mediterranean breeze that blows across his face and through his hair is like nothing he's ever felt before, and he takes deep breaths of the salty air. It's wonderful.
It had been terrifying at first - flying - but Anne had guided him carefully, warning him about obstacles and describing the environment to him. It takes belief, happy thoughts and a dash of fairy dust to fly, and the very thought of freedom was enough happiness to lift him off the ground without effort. With her guidance, he can dance through the air without fear.
It felt amazing, having someone who actually cared enough to tell him about the world around him, to describe for him the world he would never see. ‘Can you give me sight?’ He'd asked, and she had told him sadly that she couldn't, but that she would give him the next best thing, she would be his eyes.
Don't worry, no child of Neverland will ever hurt you. Neverland is for you, Peter Pan. She chirps happily into his heart, and he is comforted, though he still feels a little off about how she keeps calling him Peter Pan.
He'd asked why she wasn't using his name, and she'd shushed him, saying that it was part of the spell. If he was to be Peter Pan, the King of Neverland, he must discard his name, his history. He must not think it to himself, he must take up his title alone, he is King after all.
Over here, Peter! Anne calls and he follows eagerly.
She has already brought him to meet mermaids with lovely voices, and they'd sung to him, praising him and thanking him for coming. Neverland has been without a Peter Pan for too long.
The webbed hands of the mermaids had guided his fingers to caress their dry scales, feeling them soften under his touch, feeling the wrinkles fade from their faces, as they sang of the joy of being in the presence of Peter Pan and the healing his power could bring.
For Peter Pan is the source of Neverland's magic. His kindness, his love, his bright childlike soul bringing life to the land.
That is his role. He is now the benevolent King of Neverland, granting eternal youth and purging the evil of age.
He couldn’t be happier.
Here, his kindness is a gift, his gentleness and youth, a blessing.
The Indians too, were overjoyed to regain their vitality and virility. They could hunt again, they could run again. They'd cooked a magnificent feast for him, the delicious and mouthwatering roasted meats, fat dripping off the bone as he ate, danced and cheered along with them.
Now, full and fulfilled, he wonders as Anne guides him through the forest, where she will take him next. Are there more to heal? He feels rather sleepy though, and the sun's rays have cooled on his skin, signalling the coming of night.
Welcome home, Peter! Anne tinkles happily. There will be more to heal tomorrow, but tonight, you can meet your new friends and get some rest!
His heart picks up in excitement, friends? He hadn't any back home, most too scared of his family's reputation to befriend him. Anne has already given him so much. Purpose, love, power, and now she would give him friends too?
Come out lost kids! Anne calls out. Peter Pan has arrived!
“Peter! It's Peter Pan!” The cries of his new friends ring out and he smiles shyly.
“H- hi.” He blushes when he hears squeals of excitement in response.
“Hello, Peter! I'm Poppy, twelve years old!” A girl's voice comes from somewhere before him, she sounds gentle and sweet, and he feels like he'll get along with her well.
“Imelda. Thirteen.” Another girl, with a rather deadpan voice stated.
“And I’m Nellie! Eleven!” The next girl chimes in beside him.
“D- Duncan, um, also eleven.” A boy this time, though his voice feels a little irritating, for some reason.
“And I'm Garreth, ten!” This boy's voice sounds cheeky and mischievous, and Garreth grabs his hand, pulling him through the air. “Come on, I'll show you where we sleep!”
Pulled along by the boy, he thinks to himself with some discomfort. Ten to thirteen... At fifteen years old himself, that makes him the oldest.
That makes you their leader, Peter! Anne chirps beside him.
“You- you think I can?” He asks her nervously.
Of course! Anne giggles. You're Peter Pan, you can do anything!
He smiles, that's right, he's Peter Pan, he can do anything here.
Neverland is for him, after all.
The galleon rocked ever so slightly, swaying from side to side, as a young dark-skinned woman strode through the belly of the large ship. Arriving at a door with a simple hook engraved on its surface, along with a wooden block bearing the letter S, she knocked on the door and then waited.
“Come in.” The voice that came from inside was deep but still tinged with youth.
“Captain. Did you hear?” She asked as she opened the door.
“I don't need to, Natty. I can feel it. Peter Pan has returned to Neverland.” Hook gave her a thin smile, his voice bitter and dry.
“Will you win him over, Captain?” Natty asked, watching her leader with some concern as the young man sighed.
Despite looking barely just shy of twenty, the captain's expression always made her feel like he was over a hundred years old. As he should, Natty mused to herself, considering that Captain S. Hook has looked this way long before she was even born.
His brown windswept hair and freckled cheeks were barely visible in the dim candlelight, but his warm brown eyes caught the light just fine, and they were filled with longing and wistful sorrow as he gazed upon the small locket in his grasp. She knew whose image rested within the bronze metal and her heart clenched with a pang of pain.
It hurt, but she suppressed the urge to force it away. Pain was good, pain was a part of life. Of love, of loss and of age. It was a blessing that she would experience joy, then sorrow, and then peace when her time came. Only to be reborn and feel life's beauty all over again. A blessing that her kind and selfless captain can never have.
“I have to.” Hook breathed, closing the locket and placing a gentle kiss on its surface, his eyes burning with determination. “The Keeper asked me to. I have to save him... before he becomes Peter Pan.”
Hook turned to her, and the intensity in his dark eyes reminded Natty that, while he looks young, and while he is kind and selfless beyond reason, this is also the man who had killed his own lover. This is the man who has sworn to be the last Captain Hook.
“Ready the ship. We begin our attack on the barrier at dawn.”
Notes:
This is basically an Ominis who never met Sebastian or Anne, so despite being no less abused by his family, he's also more isolated and "sheltered", in the sense of being naïve, unaccustomed to socialisation, and unaware of the problems/lives of the commoners/poor. So, he's got a lot of Ominis’ prioritisation of his own self-image over others' well-being/happiness and his moral simplicity cranked up to eleven and less sense of typical social norms or what is “normal”. If you thought Heavy Is The Crown had a messed up Ominis, get a loada this. xP
Why do I keep fucking this boy up-
Also, despite this being a Peter Pan AU, I'm keeping Ominis 15 just because, well, any younger makes me really uncomfortable. Like, 15 is probably as low as I'd go with smut and... er, yeah, for obvious reasons.
Sebastian's older in this story in a literal sense, but you'll quickly see that that's debatable mentally, thanks to "growing up" in Neverland. They're both gonna be pretty messed up in this one. Which, if you know how the original Peter Pan was waaaaaay darker than Disney's and actually about how children can be 200% more cruel than adults, this will make sense.
Like, in the original book, it is implied that Peter straight up kills his Lost Boys whenever they accidentally "grow up". The book highlights how, while the type of cruelty children have can seem absurd to adults, they are still innocent because they do not grasp the gravity and weight of their actions nor the consequences. There is no malice behind children's cruelty because they don't care or know enough to intentionally hurt, nor do they understand responsibility/accountability enough to feel bad when they do.
A kid would casually kill their dog and then forget they had a dog to begin with, no guilt, no shame, because they neither care nor know to care. Children take cues from adults as to how to respond, what is normal and what isn’t, if they don’t get enough exposure to typical adults, they simply don’t develop typically. Doesn't make them evil, they're just kids.
Becoming an adult is about being able to feel empathy, caring about what other people feel and learning to reciprocate effort. That's why Wendy was considered as already growing up, because she realised that she was forgetting her parents and felt guilty for making them worry and wanted to go home to them.
At fifteen, Ominis is definitely dancing that line, even closer to entering adulthood then thirteen-year-old Wendy, but his childhood isn't nearly as warm as hers so, there will be... differences x3
However, if you don't have any familiarity with the original Peter Pan, that's great too! Since this barely draws anything more than some themes from the original book and is partially inspired by a Vocaloid song, (if you know it, congratulations, you know a fraction of the mysterious history of Neverland, but shhhhhh let's not spoil the fun for those who don't! If you don't know the song, don't worry, I'll tell you to go watch the MV on YouTube when the time is right).
So, throw out the original Peter Pan lore if you have it in your head. I will lay out the world building as we go, so strap in and enjoy the adventure! xD
And hopefully ya'll won't mind that Sebastian is going to be referred to as Hook for a significant portion of this fic, you'll see why next chapter x3
Ominis fought to control his expression, to keep his hands from trembling. Five years. Five years since he'd seen his parents, and this. This was the reason they'd given him the honour of their time? This was the reason they'd sought him out at Hogwarts?
The bitterness welling up within him was thick enough to gag on.
New year, new allies, new responsibilities, new avenues of revenue, and new aspects of their own Ancient Magic to explore. As the Keeper and their partners enter their last year at Hogwarts, it remains to be seen if the new school year will bring with it new problems or adversaries, but they are confident in the strength of their relationship with Sebastian and Ominis. The three of them would endure, no matter what befell them.
And if they were wrong?
What a joke, they would suffer no alternative.
Warnings: Sebastian x MC x Ominis! Drug Addiction! Spoilers! Slow-burn corruption! Dark content! Fucked up 1800s orphanages! MC has no love for Anne or Solomon! Dubious happy ending (it's happy for MC, Seb and Ominis at least).
You can also read on AO3! (chapter specific warnings below)
Notes:
Warnings: A bit more torture but mostly plot and world building.
Finally, we're back to moving the plot and story along. I revamped a bunch of JK's lore, threw some of it in the trash bin, and came up with my own spin on the rest and created goblin culture, hopefully ya'll like the world building here =D
Also, if anyone's thirsty for pain, I posted a short ass alternate sad ending for Sebastian's questline titled Let's Go, Together. Go check it out if you want to cry.
God, I'm exhausted, I got food poisoning, I think I'm getting a cold too, greaaaat-
I'm also writing another Sebinis AU that features the Keeper as a historical cameo, so readers of this series will (hopefully) understand why the Keeper in that AU is... past-tensed. Good lord, it's already like 20k words and it's still like in the world building and slow... er, medium burn part. If you like Peter Pan (and no, not the Disney version) you'll like this one xD
I'll probably upload the first chapter of that new fic next weekend, so please look forward to it! =D
And, at this point, I should probably just fix my upload schedule for this series to once every four weeks, it's been like that for ages now and I can't seem to make my chapters shorter than 10k words x')
Edit: One of my cats died, my oldest companion, and it's been rough, so, I deeply apologise, but I'll be dropping my upload schedule and I probably won't be able to finish the next chapter anytime soon. I need a break, but I'll definitely continue this when I'm feeling better!
“This is all I could find. Seems like he didn't have much left by the time I went after him.” The Keeper dropped a small pouch on the table between them and Mrs. Taylor, their tone slightly apologetic.
They kind of felt like they’d gotten more out of this than Frederick's wife, but if she really needed the money, it'd probably be helpful regardless, the pearls should at least fetch a decent price. The Keeper wasn't exactly an expert, but the yellow tint to the pearly sheen made them likely to be natural pearls, and the gold ring was decently heavy.
“It's alright, I'll come back to give you your share after I sell off what you've found.” She nodded, accepting the pouch and, as she did so, a blue flame burst into being over her hand, startling her.
“Don't worry about that, it's just the contract. Evidence that I've fulfilled my end of the bargain.” The Keeper assured, taking a sip from their glass.
“I- I see.” The lady's smile became uncertain. “Is he-”
She cut herself off and shook her head. “Nevermind, thank you.”
“You're welcome.” The Keeper answered with a level gaze, amused that she clearly wanted and didn't want to know what had become of her husband. Perhaps they'd gotten used to reading that on Ominis’ more controlled face, and could spot it easily on hers. “I look forward to receiving my pay.”
At the clear dismissal, Mrs. Taylor nodded and stood. “I'll be in touch.”
With a last uncertain glance, she left the Phantom’s Flask, and the Keeper moved over to sit at Alasdair's counter, where the bartender gave them a wry smile. “Congratulations on clearing another job. How was your visit to the Rogues?”
“Rowdy.” The Keeper answered with an amused snort. “Think I prefer this place. Drinks are better too.”
A wide smirk covered Alasdair's face. “Flattery won't lighten your tab, kid. Out with it then, what do you want?”
“I don't suppose you know where I might be able to acquire two-way mirrors like Owl's, though I'd prefer a set of three that are linked.” The Keeper asked, stirring their drink idly with the straw.
“Well, starting out with the tough requests, hm? Two-ways are rare enough already, a set of three-way mirrors would be even harder to acquire.” Alasdair chuckled. “But I'm sure you've already guessed as much.”
“Can you help me or not?” The Keeper huffed, not particularly in the mood to play.
“There's only one merchant I know who could have something that rare, but they're involved in an ongoing fight with a fairly powerful enemy, so you might want to be careful when dealing with them.” The bartender warned. “It's not the type of beef you want to get dragged into.”
“Noted.” The Keeper cocked an eyebrow at the man. Well, all they were interested in was trade, so they didn't see how that would be a problem.
“They rent a room on Tuesday nights to do trade, come by during opening hours and you'll find them in room sixteen.” Alasdair jabbed a thumb towards the stairs. “Wear your mask.”
That bad, huh.
The Keeper nodded as they finished up their drink, sliding the glass over to Alasdair and making to stand, when he asked. “Have you ever met a vampire?”
Eyes widening, they shook their head, a vampire, eh? That should be interesting.
“Well, greet them with a bow and don't tilt your head to the side or raise your wrist. Might take that as an offer.” The corner of Alasdair's mouth quirked upwards in amusement.
“I'll keep that in mind.” The Keeper huffed as they stood. “Thanks as always.”
“See you soon, kid.”
The streets of Diagon Alley were about as cramped as one might expect on a Sunday in the middle of the Christmas season, and Sebastian was starting to worry that he wouldn't make it to Gringotts on time for his first lesson with Borgok.
Which would be a pretty piss poor way to start his apprenticeship, so he took a breath and began to shove himself through the crowd. Ignoring the glares from the surrounding shoppers, Sebastian elbowed his way to the bank, huffing and puffing as he struggled against the flow of traffic.
When he finally made it to the large white doors, the bank itself also turned out to be crowded as all hell and, for a moment, Sebastian was worried that he wouldn't be able to find his mentor. Only to breathe a sigh of relief when he spotted the heavy-set blacksmith standing near a counter, speaking with another of his kinsmen, and he quickly waded through the sea of people and goblins.
Fortunately, Borgok seemed to spot him as he made his way over, saving him the awkward task of interrupting the conversation, and Sebastian stopped a few steps away. Leaning against a wall to catch his breath, Sebastian waited for Borgok to finish his discussion, and the other goblin left after a few moments.
“Master Borgok.” Sebastian greeted when his mentor turned to face him, giving him a slight bow of the head in respect.
It still felt odd to regard a goblin with deference, but he knew that this was something he had to get used to, goblins weren't the enemy, and this one would make him more useful to the Keeper. He needed to be useful, needed to take the pressure off them, they were already carrying so much of their future, it wasn't fair for both he and Ominis to need them so much.
The Keeper’s breakdown on Friday had reminded him that they weren't mentally invincible either, even they needed rest, and Sebastian knew that he only got to spend more time with the Keeper than Ominis, because most of it was when they were working.
And they were always working.
Which obviously meant that Ominis was left alone more often than not.
Sebastian had managed to get Ominis to talk about what was bothering him during their walk by the lake, and he'd felt rather stupid when the blond had hesitantly admitted that he was feeling lonely. Of course he was, the throuple could usually spend at least a few hours and mealtimes together every day during previous holidays, this was the first time they'd left Ominis alone for days in a row.
It wasn't fair that Sebastian's own needs were being met - purely because he and the Keeper conveniently took pleasure from working together - and Ominis’ weren't.
So, even though Sebastian loved watching the Keeper work, loved how hot they looked when they were focused, loved how good it felt every time they gave him one of their approving nods. He decided that he was going to do his best to reduce the amount of time that the Keeper needed to spend on work. Ominis deserved to get his relaxing dates with them too.
Hopefully, learning about goblin silver and how it worked would allow him to give the Keeper more time to rest and relax with him and Ominis. It was with this determination in his heart that Sebastian met Borgok's gaze, and a sharp toothy grin of approval spread across the goblin's face. Okay, still kinda unnerving, why did goblins have to have such creepy looking teeth-
“Sebastian, glad you made it on time, punctuality in the face of unexpected adversity is a sign of dedication.” Borgok chuckled, and the pink that had been leaving Sebastian's cheeks immediately returned. “Come, follow me.”
The hefty goblin turned and took a few steps over to the counter and Sebastian followed him with some trepidation.
“Nodrog.” Borgok greeted the goblin behind the counter, who was wearing the uniform of a security guard.
“Borgok, busy morning we're having, innit?” The guard chuckled wryly. “What can I do for you?”
“This is Sebastian.” Borgok gestured at him, before introducing the goblin. “And this is Nodrog, you'll have to get clearance from him to enter the employee's section of the building.”
Sebastian nodded at him in greeting, deciding to go with the standard. “Good morning.”
“So, this is the apprentice, bit younger than I expected.” Nodrog eyed Sebastian critically and he fought to keep his expression neutral, chanting in his head, don't get mad, don't get mad, don't get mad.
The goblin behind the counter then presented him with a ledger and a quill. “Here, you'll need to sign this every time you enter and leave.”
Taking the quill obediently, Sebastian found the first empty row to scribble his name on and, after passing the ledger and quill to Borgok, the security guard offered Sebastian a gold necklace in their place. “And you'll need to wear this.”
The golden chain was not very long, and its links were thick, broad squares, weaved together in an intricate interlocking design. Most prominently, was a curious pattern along the side that was large enough to be seen at a glance, it looked almost like letters, though Sebastian couldn't quite recognise them.
“It's got an identification number on the side. And it's how we'll know you're working here.” Nodrog explained, and Sebastian nodded, taking the chain and fastening it around his neck, rather surprised to find that it wasn't quite as uncomfortable as he'd thought it looked.
“Alright, that's everything settled. Welcome to Gringotts.” Nodrog pressed something on his countertop and the shutter gate beside the counter opened.
“Come along then, lad.” Borgok quipped as he led the way through the gates and down the corridor behind them.
Sebastian followed him for a short walk, and the corridor eventually ended at a chamber with three doors, which were all - oddly enough - lacking handles. The door to the left bore a bronze sheen, the one in the middle, silver, while the third was made of or possibly plated with gold, and Sebastian wondered which they would be entering. Not to mention, what the significance of each differing material was.
The blacksmith lumbered over to the golden door, and as he did, Sebastian noticed that there was a small keyhole set into the door's frame. He watched with curiosity as Borgok lowered his collar slightly to reveal a necklace that looked almost identical to Sebastian’s and lifted one of the golden keys hanging from it.
Sebastian's eyebrows rose when Borgok moved like he was going to pull the key off the necklace, only for the necklace to elongate. The links of the chain unfolded out of themselves elegantly, till the necklace was long enough for the goblin to easily slot the key into the keyhole on the door frame.
The key turned with a click, and a golden circle that Sebastian had previously thought was merely one of the intricate designs on the door's frame, popped out, becoming what was quite clearly a button. Its job done, Borgok released the key from between his fingers and the links in the necklace began folding back into themselves until the chain was once again hanging comfortably from around the goblin's neck.
With wide eyes, Sebastian tugged lightly on his own necklace, observing it as it elongated and then shrank back when he released it. A bright grin spread across his face, okay, that was pretty awesome.
When Borgok then pressed the gold button he'd unlocked, the door slid to the side, revealing its ornate interior to be a very small room lined with golden grilles and elegant frills. So much gold, Merlin, the goblins really liked their precious metals.
For a moment, Sebastian was confused, until he followed the goblin inside and realised that this was an elevator, a rather rare piece of machinery, though it made sense that Gringotts would have plenty. Sebastian examined the slate of buttons on the side, spotting a few with keyholes beside them, the third of which Borgok unlocked with yet another key, and then pressed, causing the doors to close.
With a deep rumble and a jolt, the elevator began descending and Borgok took a small pouch out of his pocket, offering it to Sebastian. “As you might have guessed, the smithy I manage is in the most secure layer, you will need the keys in this bag to reach it for our lessons. You can attach them to your necklace to avoid losing them.”
Accepting the pouch, Sebastian opened it, finding two golden keys and one silver key inside, and he asked, as he removed his necklace momentarily to secure them to the chain. “Most secure layer?”
Borgok chuckled. “Yes, well, I may have neglected to mention that I'm the head of Gringotts’ Diagon Alley branch Design Department, overseeing research and development of Gringotts’ tools, locks, security and machinery.”
Sebastian's eyes widened, so Borgok was a bigshot. Great, that could be a good thing and a bad thing at the same time, a voice that sounded an awful lot like the Keeper’s echoed in his head, followed by one that sounded more like Ominis, better be careful how you behave around him, but Sebastian himself was pretty excited about this, so he shooed the voices away.
If he performed well and managed to win the approval of Borgok and his team, he'd gain connections and it would bolster his credibility, giving his decisions more weight. Not to mention, the things he could learn from them, this was an incredible opportunity that he could still barely believe had landed in his lap. Thanks to the Keeper, as always.
But your stubbornness will be your ruin, you've never gotten on with authority, you're your father's son, after all, the snide voice of Solomon sneered in his mind, you're unteachable.
Sebastian smothered that one aggressively, it only ever came out when the Keeper wasn't around, and he yearned to have them here with him. They always made him feel more confident and assured, even before he'd fallen in love with them. Having their unflinching presence by his side always made him feel like any endeavour was possible, like he could take on the world.
“My smithy team followed me when I took the position, and your training will begin with them till you have enough of the basics to learn from me.” Borgok continued, unaware of Sebastian's internal havoc. “I will introduce you to the team, and then leave you to their care.”
Sebastian nodded, the keys around his neck feeling uncomfortably heavy and anxiety churning in his stomach. Fuck it though, he was going to do his best and he was going to win them over. He had to. Failure was not an option.
Hopefully Borgok would have enough for Sebastian to do - to keep his mind occupied and quiet - it was always less noisy and easier to think when he had a problem to solve or a puzzle to figure out. He felt the vertigo of motion cease, before the elevator doors opened with a clunk, and Sebastian's eyes widened with awe at the incredible sight that was unveiled.
Outside the elevator was an enormous dome chamber filled with large machinery and workshop benches covered in tools. The warm light from the roaring fires peeking out of numerous furnaces, glimmered across the gold and silver strewn about the room. A dozen goblins or so, were either seated at the benches or moving back and forth across the workspace like a well-oiled machine. Some pushing carts of materials and others carrying tools from one place to another.
He could also see several doors along the walls, and vents snaking their way across the ceiling, along with an absolutely chaotic mess of pipes crisscrossed beneath the grates that made up the floor. Oh boy, he really didn't envy whoever's job it was to remember which pipe went where, that looked like an absolute nightmare to manage, maintain, and repair.
If Borgok tried to give him that job, Sebastian would pack his bags and leave.
Said goblin beside him chuckled, and Sebastian jumped, reminded that he was standing in the elevator doorway, staring like an idiot.
“Quite something, isn't it?” Borgok wore a proud smile as he ran his gaze over the room.
“It's incredible.” Sebastian agreed, stepping out of the elevator and returning his attention to his mentor.
“That it is, you should've seen how it looked before I got here.” The blacksmith laughed to himself as he shuffled over to a row of silver lockers beside the lift landing.
“However, the first lesson you must learn is that everything that inspires awe, is also dangerous.” Borgok rapped his knuckles against a pigeonhole locker with the number thirteen engraved on it. “You are not to descend the steps into the workshop, until you have donned the protective gear from your locker. And take off those useless robes, wizarding fashion will cost you an arm down here.”
Sebastian approached his locker and spotted a small keyhole beside the handle, quickly guessing that one of the keys hanging around his neck would likely fit. He tugged the necklace out from under the cotton tunic - that Borgok had instructed him to wear in advance - and pulled on it, still rather taken with how beautifully the necklace stretched, and attempted the smallest silver key, which fit perfectly, and he opened the locker to examine its contents.
At the sound of another locker opening beside him, Sebastian peered at Borgok, watching the goblin don the gear inside his own locker, and Sebastian shucked his robes quickly to copy his mentor.
In a few minutes, Sebastian was decked out with a small pair of goggles that sat snugly over his eyes, a face shield that could be flipped up to sit atop his head when not in use, a thick brown apron that he'd tied around his waist, a pair of safety boots - was that steel covering the toes? Fascinating - and a pair of gloves.
The gloves weren't as thick as he'd expected, but had a mesh design that felt incredibly sturdy. He'd bet good money that these gloves would stop a knife from taking off a finger and Sebastian wondered if he could get a pair of these for the Keeper. He could also feel the pulse of magic in his gear, and he noticed several runes embroidered into the waist-tie of the apron and the wrist cuffs of the gloves.
He was honestly a tad surprised that they would have gear within a human's size range, he'd already given Borgok his shoe and glove sizes, so those were customised as he'd expected, but the rest were adjustable. A rather strange choice of investment.
Finished donning his gear, Sebastian lifted the face shield and closed his locker, hearing it lock automatically, and looked at himself in the reflective surface of its door. Huh, Sebastian grinned, maybe if he showed up looking this professional, Ominis might actually trust him.
He snorted to himself in amusement, yeah, if the blond could actually see him maybe, shaking his head, he descended the stairs to join Borgok.
Fortunately, the goggle lenses seemed to be made of crisp clear crystal, and Sebastian could easily take in the sights as he followed his mentor across the chamber, his steel-toed shoes clanking against the metal beneath them.
“This chamber is the common workshop. Those five doors lead to the workshops for specialisation teams focused on a different aspect of smithing.” Borgok explained as they walked, gesturing to the doors spaced evenly along the dome's walls. “There's the Material team, the Forging team, the Finishing team, the Tooling maintenance team, and my team, the Design team.”
It was a struggle to focus on his mentor's words while goblins bustled around them, and Sebastian's eyes were constantly flickering back and forth as yet another curious machine caught his attention. Wait, was that a cart of platinum!? Sebastian's jaw went slack, an entire cart full!? He suddenly felt rather nervous, if he messed up something here, he might end up costing them more money.
Ugh, was this what being responsible felt like? Sebastian sighed, not fun, but he supposed doing good by his partners was worth dampening his excitement.
“And this is my office, you can seek me out here if you have any issues that your assigned teacher can't address.” Borgok continued as they arrived at a brass door, whose frame was like an oval cut into the wall, and Sebastian thought it a curious design choice.
The goblin unlocked the door with yet another key, and Sebastian frowned as it opened, wondering why he wasn't hearing any jangling, despite the many keys hanging from Borgok's necklace. That, and how his mentor kept track of where each key went, Merlin, there had to be at least ten hanging off the goblin’s neck.
The inside of his office was surprisingly modest, in contrast to how shiny most of Gringotts seemed to be, and it felt less industrial than the workshop outside as well. It was more akin to a Professor's office back in Hogwarts, with a large but low desk on the other end of the room, though it was made of steel rather than wood, and covered with small gadgets, papers and tools.
Borgok lumbered over to it and Sebastian followed him, past an even lower coffee table, surrounded by short yet plush, comfortable looking couches and armchairs.
“Take a seat, while I call my team to the room.” The goblin gestured towards the short stool in front of the desk as he walked around it to sit in the high-backed chair behind it.
As instructed, Sebastian took a seat, though it felt more like he was crouching on the short stool, and Sebastian watched curiously as his mentor reached out to flip up the covers on four... pipes? The four brass pipes were sticking out of the desk and, leaning forward, Borgok spoke clearly and evenly into those four pipes at the same time.
“This is Master Smith Borgok, could the Masters of each department please come to my office? Thank you.” Finishing his announcement, the goblin closed the four flaps and leaned back in his seat to face Sebastian. “They should arrive in several minutes. For today, I will have you spend an hour following each of the four Masters around as they go about their work.”
Sebastian nodded slowly, and his expression must have looked not unlike a warrior going into battle, because Borgok gave him a small smile, saying. “Don't look so worried, they're my friends before my employees, and I can assure you that you will be treated no differently than one of our goblins.”
“Thank you.” Sebastian returned his smile, grateful that his mentor was taking the time to ease his nerves. Still, he'd had enough bad experiences with adults to remain wary, though he supposed he was already considered one himself, by all technicality.
“After you've taken some time with the other Masters, you can come by my office, and we'll speak for a bit about any observations you've made.” Borgok continued. “Though some of my friends might be... strict, I hope you'll be able to learn much from them, though it would probably be prudent to give you some warning.”
“Warning?” Sebastian echoed warily.
“Yes, see, amongst goblins, we men commonly handle interactions with Wizardkind, your people aren't very... tolerant towards our women.” Borgok flashed a wry smile. “Of course, I don't understand it, I think our goblette ladies are absolutely lovely, but humans seem to find them rather... scary.”
Sebastian's eyebrows raised, even more so than goblins!?
“And our culture is normally one of express honesty. Humans in general seem to think that ‘polite’ means lying. In contrast, when we goblins feel a certain way, we will make no attempts to hide it, out of respect to those around us. The more we care about each other, the more effort we put into being our authentic selves.” Borgok explained, and Sebastian felt something stir inside him, he really liked the way that sounded.
“However, humans... they take offence too easily, and when our women show anger, it can put them in grave danger.” The goblin sighed. “So, us men, the physically stronger and less... ugly by - human standards - handle interactions with humans. And I won't lie, it's... painful to suppress our emotions the way humans do.”
Sebastian winced in sympathy, he knew what that felt like, that sounded rough indee-
The door slammed open with a clang that echoed through the room, and Sebastian jumped, spinning around to stare with wide eyes as a foot hovered in the doorway for a moment. Before it lowered to the floor and a goblin - just a tad shorter than Borgok - entered, wearing an admittedly, rather terrifying scowl.
“The blazes are ye doin’ callin’ me in the middle o’ engraving!?” The goblin's voice was slightly higher in pitch, though no less rough than Borgok's, with a hooked nose that pointed upwards rather than down, long brown hair tied up in a tight bun and twice as many wrinkles as the average goblin. “You gonna do me last twenty hours o’ work if I botch the batch, eh Borgok!?”
“Melain, my friend, please, we should give young Sebastian a chance to get used to dealings with fine ladies like yourself.” Borgok sighed, and Sebastian blinked, so that was a goblette. Merlin’s beard, she did look terrifying indeed, were those tusks peeking out from her lower lip!?
Another goblin shoved past Melain, this one was a little taller than her but also had long hair - blonde this time - in a braid, another goblette, from the wrinkles and long fangs. This one flashed Borgok a sharp grin, revealing two rows of teeth that were even more jagged than his, as she scoffed. “And that's our problem, how?”
“Rozen is right. If the boy wants to learn from us, he'll have to get accustomed to our customs.” Came a flat and uninterested statement from a bespectacled goblette with her black hair in a messy bun, who strolled past the others, staring at a clipboard in her hands as she absently took a seat in one of the armchairs. “Jason managed without any coddling.”
“That's very kind of you to say, Loleu.” The next person to enter was - to Sebastian's surprise - a human. The man's voice was deep, and his warm blue eyes followed the goblettes as they seated themselves.
He was also intimidatingly tall, at least a head taller than Sebastian, and he was large and muscled, with cropped dark brown hair that was almost as messy as Sebastian's own, wearing the same apron around his waist and the same gloves too. He had a strong square jaw that made Sebastian think of muggle soldiers, and there were numerous scars crisscrossing across the thick arms, showing under his rolled-up sleeves.
A part of Sebastian wondered if he would eventually look... like that, after working here for a while. Would Ominis and the Keeper like that? If he had big muscles to touch? It would be pretty cool if he could carry Ominis bridal style one day.
Catching Sebastian's curious eyes, Jason grinned broadly and strode towards him, saying. “Hey there, Sebastian, right? I'm glad to see the gear fits! I thought it should - from your shoe and glove sizes - but one can never really know in the wizarding world.”
Jason chuckled as he offered his hand for a shake, and Sebastian couldn’t help but feel some relief at seeing a gesture he knew how to respond to. Standing and taking the hand, Sebastian smiled. “So, I have you to thank for the gear. You have my gratitude, I must admit, I'm surprised to see another human.”
At his words, the three goblettes on the couch began to snicker and Jason chuckled as he released Sebastian's hand. “Not quite, I'm a werewolf.”
Sebastian's eyes widened and Jason gave him a rueful smile. “The Ministry doesn't make it easy for my kind to make an honest living, Master Borgok was kind enough to give me a chance when he saw the craft I was trying to sell.”
Sebastian followed the werewolf's grateful gaze to the goblin in question, and Borgok shrugged. “I didn't have enough coin on me, so I offered to teach him, in exchange for what I needed to buy. Saved me the embarrassment of showing up to my mother’s without a gift.”
“Luckily for me.” Jason chuckled. “I trusted his word and let him leave with the artpiece, even though I was raised to see goblins as uncivilised. And it was the best decision I've ever made.”
“We simply see no point in denying merit when we see it. Effort should always be met with equal appreciation, and it is an insult to give more - or less - than fair, in exchange for work.” Borgok paused with a bitter smile. “That's all we ever wanted from Wizardkind, to be viewed with the appropriate recognition for our hard work and efforts. But humans value results over effort. I will never understand such a way of thinking.”
Sebastian felt something clench in his chest at those words, that's right, that's all he ever wanted too. For his uncle to respect him, for his efforts to be recognised. Did it matter if he failed? He was trying. Could Solomon not see that? Did he not care? Sebastian could have had everybody in Hogwarts admire him and it wouldn't have been a substitute for his uncle's recognition and support.
He bit his lip, heart aching, until he thought of the Keeper. They hadn’t given a fuck when he failed, and so spectacularly at that. They saw how much he cared, how hard Sebastian was always trying. Always. Trying to be strong and confident, trying to look and feel like he knew what the fuck he was doing. Perhaps it would hurt less if he could just show his honest feelings without need for hiding, like the goblins did.
They may look scary, but their hearts weren't very different from his own, it seemed.
Maybe it wasn’t so strange that Ranrok's Loyalists were all goblin men, they were the ones who had to endure humanity's farces and toxic masks. It made Sebastian feel a strange guilt, that those goblins had just been infected by human poison. The same poison he himself had been choking on. He'd been taking his anger out on people who were in the same boat that he'd been in for years.
“Because the goblin way makes sense.” Loleu muttered, flipping a page on her clipboard and pulling a... pen, out of the mess pretending to be a bun on her head, to scribble something on the clipboard. “Jason made an excellent recovery and great progress under our care.”
“My dear, you'll make me blush.” Jason grinned sheepishly.
“Maybe I want to.” Loleu tossed back with a smirk, as she shoved her pen back into her bun.
“Urk- gross. Yer flirting'll give me hives.” Melain stuck out her tongue and Rozen snickered.
“It's not flirting, get your head outta the gutter.” Loleu rolled her eyes. “So, what's the plan, Master Smith?”
Borgok cleared his throat. “Yes, first, let me introduce my Masters.”
Sebastian sat up a little straighter and followed Borgok's palm as he gestured from the left to the right.
“Rozen is the Master in charge of Raw Materials, she handles refining and smelting raw ore from the mines, for use in forging.” The blonde goblette gave him a rather unsettling grin, but Sebastian bowed his head respectfully. He was just going to have to get over his discomfort, Jason managed, he could too.
“Jason is the Forging Master, he manages our forgers and they handle the conversion of ingots into the rough designs my team and I develop.” The large werewolf waved cheerfully, and Sebastian grinned back at him, he had a feeling the man would be a fun teacher.
“Melain is the Finishing Master, her team makes the finishing touches on every piece of work that leaves the forges. Engraving, polishing and all the detailed work.” The brunette goblette gave him a curt nod and he already felt like she would be the scariest teacher in the group.
“And finally, Loleu, our Tools Master, ensures that our forge is running around the clock. Maintaining or replacing any machinery or tools necessary for us to work.” The bespectacled goblette didn't even look up from her clipboard, simply sending a small wave in his general direction.
With the introductions done, Sebastian glanced at Borgok who moved his hand towards the blonde goblette, saying. “So, for starters, I'll be handing you off to Rozen, she'll introduce you to her line of work, before handing you over to the next Master.”
The blonde goblette sighed and stood. “Come on then, lad. Time's a wastin’.”
Giving Borgok a nod of farewell, Sebastian followed Rozen out of the room, his earlier trepidation returning as he did, still not entirely sure what to expect.
Returning to Borgok's office four hours later, Sebastian rapped his knuckles on the brass door and waited for Borgok's invitation. “Come in.”
Dutifully pushing the door open and poking his head inside, Sebastian saw the Master Smith scribbling on some papers at his desk, and Borgok spared him a glance, before returning his attention to his work. “Please take a seat on the couch, I'll be ready to speak with you in a few minutes.”
“Yes, Master Smith.” Sebastian nodded as he closed the door behind him and took a seat on one of the couches, slumping into the low cushion with a tired sigh. Merlin, that had been more exhausting than he'd expected.
His long tour had begun with Rozen had showing him to the Refinery Chambers, which - contrary to their name - were not mere chambers, but in fact expanded rooms so large that he wasn't even able to see the ceiling.
The Sifting Chamber held mountains, and he meant mountains of reddish-brown grains of iron, silver and gold. Apparently, they would grind up the raw ore transported from the mines and then use magnets to sift the iron from the dirt, and large gallons of water to wash dirt from gold and silver.
Rozen had given him a mask to wear over his nose and mouth, so he wouldn't choke on the fine dust, and Sebastian had commented that that would be a rather... fine way to die. Which had earned him a round of laughter from the crew nearby and a couple of hearty slaps on the thigh from Rozen. Which kind of hurt.
The Chemical Chamber had been rather pungent but was apparently vital to cleaning impurities from the precious metals between the various phases of smelting. Said connected Smelting Chamber had been extremely hot, enough that he could feel the burn on his skin despite the protective charms on his gear, and Rozen had told him that the temperatures in the coke coal forges reached almost half the heat of the sun's surface itself, according to recent muggle findings.
Sebastian had been admittedly awestruck when Rozen handed him a monstrously heavy ingot of pure gold, he'd almost dropped the tiny thing when she first passed it to him. However, the most exciting part of that hour had been watching the first phase of the process of enchanting the silver ingots to convert them into Goblin Silver.
Apparently, goblins could hear something that humans couldn't, or at least Sebastian hadn't heard shit when Rozen tapped a silver ingot with her hammer and went. “Ya hear that? When the silver sings like that, ya know it's good fer enchantin’.”
She'd tossed the ingot into a crucible with moonstone, before removing her glove and pricking her finger with a needle from her pocket, adding a drop of her own blood to it. Before handing Sebastian a stack of already cooled enchanted silver ingots, which had a blue sheen reminiscent of moonstone itself, to carry with him to his next stop.
He'd been relatively unsurprised by the addition of goblin blood to the mixture, their race had always been the least unsettled by blood magic.
Then, she'd dropped him off at Jason's forge, where the man had happily invited Sebastian to watch him forge a shield that'd been commissioned for a noble family, from the ingots that Sebastian had carried over. The werewolf had shown him how to get an ingot safely clamped between tongs and slide it over the burning coal furnaces to heat the metal evenly, before it could be hammered into the appropriate shape.
It had been rather amusing, how excited Jason had been to introduce one of the newer machines in the forge.
Apparently, the Power Hammer was based off a state-of-the-art piece of muggle machinery, it linked a spinning clutch with a hammer that would bounce on leather springs once engaged. It had been invented by a muggle designer named Christopher Bradley only a year ago, and Jason had chuckled as he described how enraged Borgok had been that a muggle had out-designed him with such a brilliant tool. One that would significantly reduce the amount of magic needed to power the process.
The werewolf had instructed Sebastian to lower his face shield as he hammered the metal into shape, folding it several times to improve its durability.
Sebastian had then asked, as Jason hammered away without anything protecting his face. “Why aren't you using a face shield?”
“Because I know what I'm doing.” Jason had answered with a grin.
“I'm a quick learner.” Sebastian hadn't been able to resist shooting back.
“That's what Greg said.” Jason had laughed, before turning to the side and shouting to be heard over the hammering of metal. “Hey Greg!”
“What?” Came the reply from one of the goblins nearby, who'd lifted his own face shield to reveal a large scar over his left eye.
“Tell the kid how you lost your eye!” Jason had called back.
The goblin cackled and flashed the wide-eyed Sebastian a sharp grin, shouting back. “Corner o’ coolin’ metal snapped off while hammerin’ and flew in me face!”
At his words, Sebastian had eyed the red-hot metal that Jason was hammering warily, and the werewolf cheerfully added. “Besides, if I mess up and injure myself, that's fine. But if I mess up and injure you, well, bugger me. So, keep that shield down.”
He wasn't sure if this was all a joke, but Sebastian kept his face shield down till Jason handed him off to Melain. Who quickly gave Sebastian her own variation of the same warning and told him to stay outta her way while she finished scraping, polishing, and engraving a goblet of goblin silver.
He'd watched with fascination as she sang in Gobbledegook under her breath, while etching little runes that glowed under her chisel. This was apparently the last step in enchanting Goblin Silver, which was why Jason was able to handle forging, despite not being a goblin. The main components were goblin blood, added during the smelting, and then runes charmed with goblin song and etched by goblin hands.
Sebastian was slightly disappointed that it wouldn't be possible for him to just make Goblin Silver for the Keeper, but he supposed if it were that simple, it wouldn't be so damn rare and expensive.
The blonde goblette hadn't given him much instruction or introduction, so focused she'd been on her work, but he'd found it enlightening to watch her all the same. While the Raw Materials were taxing and laborious to refine repeatedly, and forging required both immense strength and aim, finishing was no less difficult, and demanded intense focus and finesse. Not to mention, the amount of pressure there must be on the finishers to not waste all the work that had already gone into an item.
Loleu had dropped by to pick him up, correctly guessing that Melain was too caught up in her craft to remember his existence, and the black haired goblette had brought him to her workshop. Which... looked like an absolute nightmare. Machinery laid about in varying states of disrepair, an entire stack of spanners and hammers, a pile of screws and bolts was heaped in one corner, with another pile of nuts and gears in the other.
The messy room was apparently the equivalent of a spare parts scrap pile, and Sebastian had thus discovered - when Loleu asked him to pick up a handful of nuts for her - that the necklace of keys hanging around his neck would stay plastered to his chest even if he leaned forward. Which explained why he heard no jangling from the keys.
Loleu had then, absentmindedly told him that the necklace was charmed to stay against his chest so that the keys and chain would not get caught in any machinery or grinders, which would be quite... bad. Sebastian had swallowed at the unsettling thought, and then wondered if the goblette had a second pair of eyes hidden in her hair, since she'd been staring at her clipboard the entire time.
He'd watched as a seemingly endless stream of goblins came into the room, one after the other, to ask for a specific sized screw or nut or a size-sixteen Box-Head Ratcheting spanner or a replacement for a Steam-Powered Mechanical Trip Hammer Piston Assembly. Whatever the hell that last one was.
And every single time, she would simply check her clipboard or skip it entirely and just walk to one of the many piles of scrap, rummage through it for a moment, before returning with the requested item. She'd occasionally ask one of the other goblins in the room to retrieve something from storage, but the sheer amount of things that that goblette seemed to remember herself was somewhere between impressive and daunting.
Sebastian had made a mental note not to let any secrets slip around her. All in all, an exhausting four hours and he felt like, while he'd gotten a good look at what the work here entailed, he still wasn't sure where he fit in all this.
“Alright, my apologies, I had to get these signed as soon as possible.” Borgok sighed, catching Sebastian's attention, and he watched as the goblin set aside his quill, before placing the stack of parchment on a tray. “Come, take a seat.”
Sebastian dutifully made his way to the desk, while Borgok pressed several buttons on the side of the tray and the stack of papers vanished in a shimmer of gold particles.
“So, tell me, how was the tour?” Borgok smiled as Sebastian sat down.
“Incredible really, I never realised so much went into even just preparing the materials to be used.” Sebastian answered, thinking of the construction they'd done on the castle. “I've done conversion of metal ore into usable materials, but only with magic and on a much smaller scale.”
“Yes well, it's less practical to use magic for mass production on the scale Gringotts requires for minting and crafting.” Borgok's smile became bitter. “It also doesn't help that we're denied wands that would make using magic for mass production less dangerous for my goblins.”
Sebastian grimaced at the reminder of the role his people played in the oppression of the goblins, before frowning. “Dangerous?”
“Yes. The amount of magic needed to control fire at the heat of coke coal for example, would strain any goblin's magic and it would only take a slight loss of concentration for it to go wild.” Borgok explained. “A more extreme scenario would be, if an atmosphere change caused the amount of necessary magic to increase while the goblin is already tired, it could require them to strain themselves past magical exhaustion. It's just not practical without wands.”
“I see.” Sebastian nodded slowly. “That's why there isn't much use of magic in the process."
“That is one reason, yes.” Borgok smiled wryly. “Another is familiarity with the Material. And indeed, I was very impressed that you'd managed to craft a blade entirely with magic, but no doubt you noticed that the quality of your metal was nowhere close to the ingots we craft.”
Sebastian blinked. “I thought that was because I was inexperienced.”
“That is not entirely accurate.” Borgok shook his head. “Wizarding magic is capable of... short-cutting a great deal. But a problem that comes with being introduced to crafting by the use of magic, is that you don't learn enough about what you're working with first.”
Sebastian's expression must have shown his confusion, because Borgok chuckled and elaborated. “Essentially, a wizard who already knows how to make a good table, can find a way to make a good table with magic. However, if you simply learn the spell from him, without first knowing how to make a good table, your table will not be as good as his.”
Oh, that made more sense, Sebastian nodded thoughtfully, that was not unlike what Professor Weasley taught about transfiguration.
“In that scenario, the quality of goblin smithing, and even muggle smithing, will always be superior, because knowledge and experience informs what you can do with magic.” Borgok concluded. “There is a difference between lazily enforcing your will on reality, as Wizardkind do, versus moulding reality by working with it, as we goblins do.”
Sebastian hummed thoughtfully, perhaps he should redo the metalwork for the dungeon cell doors, once he was better at forging. The Keeper had done woodwork during their time in the workhouses, so they'd been relatively confident about the wooden doors they'd crafted after additional research and Rackham’s guidance.
However, Sebastian had handled the metalwork for things like torch holders and cell doors, and while it was probably enough that the metal wasn't breakable with inmates’ bare hands, he would feel better having done his best to improve them.
“And that's why you want me to learn all the aspects of forging.” Sebastian nodded.
“Correct.” Borgok gave him an approving grin. “I chose to teach Jason forging because I saw in his art, the hard work, dedication and meticulous attention to detail necessary for a forger.”
The goblin jabbed a finger at Sebastian. “And I chose you, because I saw in that dagger the resourcefulness and determination to make do with what little you have. Your dagger did no more and no less than what you needed it to do, with the bare minimum in skill, experience and materials. That efficiency and creativity is necessary for a designer.”
Borgok grinned, lifting his chin with a touch of pride. “Design comes before everything else. It is the stage where we decide what an object can and will do, whether it is going to be a cursed helm or a blessed goblet. It is where we decide what runes and enchantments will be woven into it.”
With every word, Sebastian felt his heart climb up into his throat, he hadn't thought it possible for him to feel quite so excited about anything besides Dark Arts. The doors of possibility had never felt quite as wide, could he one day even make something like the relic himself? Hang on...
“And that's why Gringotts is partnered with the Ministry overseeing the Curse Breakers!” Sebastian exclaimed in understanding. “Because goblin craft intersects with the enchantment of physical objects!”
Borgok nodded with a pleased curl to the corners of his eyes. “Indeed, there are none quite as skilled in the enchantment of objects as we are, and thus, reverse engineering it is also our expertise. My Design team works closely with the Curse Breakers to break the curses on tombs or objects they attempt to retrieve.”
Sebastian felt like he was close to vibrating in his seat and had to take a breath to calm himself. Alright, he couldn’t screw this up. He was going to be the best damn student Borgok ever had.
“And that's why you asked if I like reading.” Sebastian chuckled, that had been the strangest question the goblin had asked him while discussing his apprenticeship in the Phantom's Flask.
Borgok flashed him a sharp grin. “Design is a highly theoretical field, if you were hoping to get jacked like Jason, you better tell me now, lad.”
Sebastian shook his head with a snicker. “I'm all for reading and calculations. No worries there.”
“Good.” Borgok nodded and pushed a stack of books across the table. “I think that is good enough for today. I'd like you to read these whenever you have time, and when you are experienced enough, I will introduce you to my Design team. I look forward to monitoring your progress, and I'll see you in my office again next week.”
The goblin raised a hand towards him, and Sebastian took it firmly, his eyes bright as he shook hands with his mentor. This was his path, he just knew it. He would become useful to the Keeper, and maybe even find a way to break Anne's curse if the Keeper's Ancient Magic didn't manage to.
His future had never been so bright.
“Sebastian, could you pass me a jar of E-Pain?” The Keeper asked as they fastened the empty Energy collar around Frederick's neck, before doing the same with the equally empty energy armlet, around his upper arm. Hoping to discover the differences between the collar and the armlet with today’s tests on the man.
“Here you go.” Sebastian chirped, tossing them the jar from the pack beside him before returning his attention to the book balanced in his left hand.
The Keeper eyed him with amused fondness in their heart, which book was this one? Minerals From The Mine-rails... presumably about mined minerals. Their adorable lover had been positively jubilant since his first lesson with Borgok, he'd spent the entire dinner last night and breakfast this morning, babbling about his tour and the books he'd been given to read, and he'd been reading every free moment since.
Ominis had told them not to expect anything coherent out of the brunet for the next two days, and he'd been quite correct. Sebastian had been following the Keeper from one place to another, like a duckling, his nose buried in his books. It was nice seeing his impressive dedication on display again and they'd found it cute that he still wanted to join them for their experiments.
Which was quite alright, since they were still in the process of confirming the collar's functions, they weren’t likely to need his mind present.
Though it was frustrating that, through all this time, the Keeper had only made progress increasing the amount of energy they could extract without tearing the Aura. Going from being able to extract a fraction of a needle's pain to being able to extract two needles worth, and even then, that was only because their skill and finesse had improved, not because they'd found a better method.
Then again, Isidora had been a bloody Hogwarts Professor who'd dedicated her entire life to refining this extraction process for mass usage, and she'd given up on preventing Aura tearing. Then again, she hadn't even noticed the tears.
The Keeper sighed, whatever. That was a problem for later, for now they had to continue testing, so they'd be ready for the big Macnair overload test. That was going to eat into their miniscule stash of C-Pain substantially, but hopefully its significantly greater potency will make that small stash go a long ways. Perhaps they might even figure out how Aura tears worked at the same time.
With that, they drew the E-Pain from the jar and inhaled it, closing their eyes and instructing the energy to inject three seconds’ worth if he disobeys instructions. They'd already confirmed that the collar's instructions could be overridden by adding newly Aligned energy - of any quantity - to an already Aligned energy pool, this included instructions to ‘return to neutral’.
Which made it less worrying that they might accidentally contaminate their Repository, at least they could simply revert it to Unaligned by overriding it. Still, they would try not to mix Aligned Energy with their main Repository altogether, so that they would never have to find out of quantity did make a difference on too large a scale.
Exhaling the Aligned energy, they lowered it into the collar and the man flinched as they did so, though he seemed more wary than panicked today, perhaps he had forgotten his fear of pain. No matter, he would no doubt remember soon. Then they extracted a tiny sliver of E-Pain from the jar and added it to the energy armlet this time, without Aligning it.
“Now, Mr. Taylor, do you feel the warmth around your arm?” The Keeper asked idly, and he nodded slowly. “I want you to imagine the warmth as mist and picture yourself breathing it in.”
“Why-” He'd barely gotten the word out, when he was injected by the collar.
“Do it, or you will experience more pain.” The Keeper cocked an eyebrow at him and the trembling man gasped for breath a time or two, before closing his eyes and taking a slower breath.
The Keeper watched with interest as the armlet emptied and, when he opened them, the man's eyes glowed red for a brief moment, a goofy expression of bliss on his face. Ew, gross.
“What- what was- what was that? Can- can I have more-” Frederick stammered, and they glared at him.
“Did you respect your elf's request for more food?” The Keeper asked rhetorically. “What makes you think I'd respect yours?”
They felt some satisfaction when he flinched, and - itching to hurt the man rather than give him anything remotely pleasurable - an idea popped into their head. It was worth testing out, so they inhaled a sliver of E-Pain, instructing it to inject immediately, before exhaling it and placing it in the armlet, rather than the collar.
The man jolted in pain as soon as the energy entered the armlet, fascinating. So, the armlet could allow both absorption and injection, whereas the collar could only allow injection. They wondered what the difference was, and they took a breath as they thought, before it occurred to them, perhaps it was like that.
After all, there was a difference between breathing willingly and at one's own pace, versus having air forced down the throat. Or as with water, one could be thirsty, but would absolutely still choke if someone just sprayed water into their mouth. Perhaps the same applied to the energies, which would explain why the Fear-Pill they'd given Selwyn hadn't boosted his reflexes, only caused him to enter a waking nightmare, because they'd forced it down his throat.
That made sense, though in that case, what about Aligned energy that isn't being forcefully injected?
The Keeper extracted another sliver of E-Pain and inhaled it, instructing it to inject if subject leaves the cell. Then they placed it into the armlet and gave the man a glare when he flinched. “You're lucky I need to test this further, take a breath again.”
Relief coloured his face and Frederick took another breath and, as expected, the energy was absorbed painlessly this time. So, it was possible to absorb Aligned energy as long as it hadn't been instructed to inject, like drinking water from a rushing river by scooping the water into one's hands, perhaps.
They wondered how that might work with the Imperius curse, so the Keeper drew their wand and cast. “Imperio.”
With the man safely under control, the Keeper added another sliver to the armlet and instructed him to absorb it. The energy disappeared from the armlet accordingly, so the Imperius could force someone to absorb-
“Ugh- what-” Frederick groaned, and the Keeper frowned as they felt him break free from the curse. Interesting, E-Pain could increase one's resistance to the Imperius curse? Perhaps because the positive effect of that energy was a boost in magical capability?
Well, while that might cause some complications during Macnair's test, it was good to know, and as of yet, it didn't seem likely to pose an issue. Now, was there anything else they'd needed to test? The Keeper wondered to themselves, and their eyes wandered the cell as they thought, before catching sight of Sebastian, nose still buried in his book, and they recalled his suggestion of using Fredrick’s own pain in the collar.
“Hm, worth a try.” The Keeper murmured, how would they go about it though? Thinking for a moment, they remembered the note they'd found sitting on Frederick's bedside table when they'd ransacked his room, signed off by one Vanessa. Likely the woman he'd been cheating on his wife with.
No surprise really, the Keeper had a hard time imagining anyone being attracted to this guy, perhaps that might be a sore spot worth prodding.
“That reminds me, Mr Taylor, I dropped by the apothecary you worked at, this fine Monday morning. Seems like nobody's wondering where you are.” The Keeper commented idly, watching the man as he stiffened. “Thanks to you stumbling from the Rowdy Rogue drunk last Friday, your boss thinks you might’ve frozen to death on the way home.”
They flashed him a smirk. “I doubt anyone's going to be looking for you, and it's not like you have someone waiting for you back home, after your girlfriend dumped you. Vanessa, right? How sad, to leave your wife, only to lose your dear Vanessa when the coin ran dry.”
The man flinched, and, pressing their wand to his chest, the Keeper drew a stringy blob of red black smoke from his heart. Nice, that hadn't taken much effort. Now, hopefully-
The Keeper felt a sudden burst of heat travel up their wand, so searing that they almost dropped it, and they watched with wide eyes as the strand of E-Pain they'd been extracting from his Aura, seemed to burst into flame. Orange embers chased the energy up from his chest, engulfing the smoky bubbles and turning it into a bright golden thread.
“Sebastian- pass me an empty jar!” The Keeper called as they lifted the orange energy away from Frederick.
Startling at their sudden command, Sebastian almost dropped his book, but quickly caught it and shoved it under his arm. Before following their instructions, grabbing an empty jar and opening it for them to lower the orange energy into.
He stared at it in wonder and murmured. “What is that? It looks almost like smelted gold.”
“I- I'm not sure. It started as E-Pain-” The Keeper breathed, also leaning closer to examine it with curiosity.
As they did so, the jar of E-Pain in their hand was unintentionally brought closer to the jar of orange energy. There was a clink as the glass of both open jars made contact, and to their alarm, the E-Pain promptly burst into orange flames as well.
“Oh, cool, now we have more.” Sebastian quipped with a grin, before frowning. “Wait, that’s not good, is it.”
“No, it isn’t.” The Keeper agreed and took a few steps away from their satchel. “Come here Sebastian, I think it's proximity, we can't let the rest of my E-Pain or C-Pain catch fire too.”
“What do you think it is?” Sebastian asked as he followed dutifully, eyeing the orange-hued gold in the container. “It feels hot, I can even feel it through the jar.”
“Indeed...” The Keeper murmured, examining their contaminated jar. “I was jabbing at his painful memories of his girlfriend dumping him, and it was definitely E-Pain when I extracted it, but it turned into… this, halfway through extraction.”
Sebastian's expression was thoughtful for a moment, before he suggested. “What if it's anger? I mean, I can imagine him being angry at her betrayal.”
“And anger feeds off pain!” The Keeper nodded. “That makes sense, that's why it turned this jar too, anger is contagious and burns through any other emotion. Hm, we'll need to store them in different places then...”
“I wonder what effects this'll have.” Sebastian gave them an impish grin and the Keeper chuckled, holding up their jar with a smirk.
“Only one way to find out...”
Notes:
In this chapter, Sebastian shows a lot of the results of the slow growth he’s made over the course of this story, overcoming his racism against goblins and stepping out from under the Keeper's wing to begin forging his own path. There is a fine balance to strike between feeling nervous about messing up and determination. Kids struggle with that balance.
And finding maturity is sacrificing enough of one's excitement and immersion in something, in order to be cautious and continue to examine the situation from an oversight perspective. It's not a fun feeling, but it's necessary in order to not fuck up. And the difference between a child and an adult is that an adult knows what it means to feel accountable for one's actions and the impact it makes on your loved ones.
At the same time, one must be careful not to let fear stop them either. Too much oversight distance and one might lose the sense of investment and flee before anything can even be attempted. This is equally as bad as throwing all cares to the wind, though it may not appear to be as immediately dangerous as the dangers of having too little fear.
Fear of failure/loss is slow corrosion, but no less destructive than blind fearlessness.
This fear of loss is the one I fail at a lot aha ha ha-
But, like every teacher has said; Please, do as I say, not as I do x'D
And a thing that I hope people, particularly parents, guardians and mentors can come to understand, is that there is no replacement for you. A child's love for the person who raised them is one of the few bonds that don't go anywhere, even if they feel betrayed by said parents/guardians/mentors. Betrayal hurts because love is there.
Even if a kid cuts contact with their parent, it's not because they stopped loving their parent, it's because they still love their parent, that's why they have to cut contact, because when betrayed, love causes pain. And it doesn't go away. Ever.
The deepest cut a parent can give, is to hurt a child, then blame the child for forcing them to inflict hurt, and then declare that the child doesn't love said parent because the child isn't changing/able to change.
A good parent/guardian/mentor seeks to discover (through observation and conversation with the child, and research on patterns) what a child needs and form fit their approach to each individual child. You may not successfully discover it, we are human and not all knowing, but a child can feel effort.
My mom never discovered what I needed, she was simply not equipped to do so and like porcupines huddling together in the cold, there was much hurt on both sides, until I found it myself. But she tried her best to not make my pain worse and provide what she could, until I found what I needed. So, while she already had my love, through effort, she earned my eternal respect.
Love is given and will always exist once a child has formed a bond with the person/people who raised/care for them. Respect is another thing altogether, that one must be earned. Through a willingness to be vulnerable and honest to those who need you and rely on you. Acting strong, tough and all-knowing like Solomon only hurts those who love you and costs you their respect.
"I will do what's best for you, even if it hurts you. You can hate me, but I'll do right by you." This self-martyring bullshit is just arrogance and self-satisfaction. It only leaves a scar that will never fade and if you don't put in the effort to communicate, they'll learn the lesson the hard way anyway because they don't respect you. You need to earn respect first.
As for the world building in this chapter, my partner is an engineer and works in a semiconductor company, so I used everything I've learnt from their yapping about their work supplemented with the good ol' research mwahahaha
And hopefully you guys like my rationale for why we don't see female goblins in the Potterverse, the culture, and the new OCs! The OCs not gonna be suuuuper prominent in the story, I don't think, but eh, we'll see... xD Some of them have quirks from my partner's whacky colleagues, art imitates life and all that, my partner and I often joke that our lives could make a decent romcom slice-of-life show xP
Put the two of us and my childhood bestie in a room and you have the most writable trio-of-main-characters dynamic, with my stoic unflappable bestie's deadpan commentary, my insane bouncy and random partner, and my passionate speeches and lame jokes. Speaking of which, I hope everyone's been enjoying the puns in my book titles, I love doing that haha-
What if Anne arrived a little later in the catacombs?
What if she didn’t see Sebastian kill Solomon?
What if she wasn't overcome with rage, piled upon grief?
You watch helplessly instead, as the twins go to meet fate, hand in hand.
Warnings: Death, major character death, angst, depression, suicide, bittersweet, tragedy. Like, my partner read this and went "this is some Romeo/Juliet-esque shit right here", seriously, don't read this unless you're ready for the possibility of crying.
You can also read on AO3!
Notes:
So, this is probably the shortest oneshot I've ever written, I'll explain in the notes where it came from, but this came out super damn smooth, like, bam, under two hours and barely any editing needed. Getting this out was like the smoothest diarrhoea ever, complete with painful cramping.
And, whoooo! It’s finally come, the day that my notes are actually longer than the fic itself. Aha ha ha… goddamnit. Though, I’ll admit that that’s because half the notes are me ranting about the argument that got this churned out to begin with. So, I apologise to anyone who came in thinking the fic is 5k words, half of that is notes and they wouldn't fit in the notes category. I'm sorry! OTL
Also, fuck me, I only have a week left before my deadline and the next chapter of It's My Own Design is still only half done- ToT Being in an argument makes it hard for me to regulate and get into my writing, it's already over but I'm still feeling its effects... sigh hopefully getting this out will make me feel better...
You watch as the wand falls from Sebastian's fingers, he's staring at his hand like it's betrayed him. You're about to speak, to ask him what the ever-loving fuck. When the Inferi nearby swipe at you and you can't simply continue watching his stunned form.
“Sebastian, look out!” You shout, casting Incendio at the Inferi around you, the flames licking across the hems of your robes. “Snap out of it!”
This isn't the time to be horrified. Not yet, anyway. Not while the living dead continue to attack, uncaring of the absolute shit show of a disaster that has taken place here.
You spare a moment to cast a Confringo at one of the skeletons coming up behind Sebastian, but he takes a blow from another, which jostles him from his stupor, and he finally seems aware of his surroundings again. You kick his wand to him, Inferi first, you can slap him later.
He quickly scoops up his wand and resumes fighting. Without Solomon attacking you alongside the Inferi, without Sebastian being distracted trying to solo Solomon, the two of you sweep up the remaining Inferi with your usual efficiency and teamwork.
All too soon, the cavern is quiet once more, save the panting from you and he. Charred bones litter the floor, covering almost every square inch, but you have no interest in them, because Sebastian has gone still, staring at his uncle's body once again.
“Sebastian... what have you done...” You breathe, you don't know what to do, how to react, nothing could have prepared you for this. For him to do this.
Sure, Solomon had been coming at you with terrifying anger, even hung you in the air and petrified you - as the Inferi slashed at you - threw Confringos at you, ignored your pleas for him to stop, to stop making things worse. But this... the Killing Curse, you're not sure whether Sebastian was trying to protect you or just taking his anger towards Solomon too far.
Maybe it was both? You pray it was both. His outburst on the mountain still feels uncomfortable, even if he apologised for it. If you pissed him off enough, would he kill you too? You watch Sebastian sink to his knees by his uncle's body, reaching out with shaky fingers to touch the hardening skin.
“U- uncle?” He murmurs faintly, and you know the answer. He wouldn’t have. Sebastian is just as shaken by his actions as you are.
You have to mean it.
You swallow, yeah, you'd meant it too, when you threatened to abandon Sebastian, when he was being a prick on the mountain. Didn't mean you wouldn't have felt awful about it afterwards, if he made you feel like you had to, if he pushed you into that corner. Didn't mean you wouldn't hate the consequences, didn't mean you wouldn't miss having your friend by your side, as you fought against Ranrok. Alone.
You take a step towards him, but you don't know what to say, and the sound seems to jostle him from his daze.
“In- inferi.” Sebastian mutters, pushing himself to his feet unsteadily and taking several steps back, turning away from the body with a hand over his mouth. He looks like he's seconds from vomiting. “We- we can say the Inferi did- did- this.”
“Sebastian...” You frown, he's doing it again, closing his feelings off and trying to think with his brain alone.
“Please-” He gasps, knowing that you're about to... actually, you're not sure what you're about to say or do, but whatever it is, you don't get to.
“Sebastian?” Anne's voice reaches your ears, and both you and Sebastian stare at the doorway, in varying degrees of horror.
“A- Anne-” Sebastian moves, as though wanting to cover Solomon's body from her view, even though he must know he cannot possibly do so in time.
You see her expression change the moment she spots Solomon. With wide eyes, she staggers towards him, slowly at first, disbelief on her face, and then she's running, stumbling and falling mere steps away. Sebastian quickly darts forward to catch her, but she throws his arms off and collapses to the floor, dragging herself across the stone to kneel by Solomon's cold corpse.
“No- no no no- Uncle?” Anne touches Solomon's face frantically. “Please, uncle-”
“He's- he's gone.” Sebastian pleads, practically begging her to stop. To stop making him regret what he's done. “Anne-”
“Why- how-” Anne gasps, tears spilling from her eyes in rivers as she clings to the man's body.
“I- Inferi- they- they got him.” Sebastian answers, giving you an entreating stare, like you were a deity that he was praying to for salvation.
You are at a loss for words, there hasn't been enough time for you to decide if you will go along with his lie. And it is a lie, an outright lie. He's told many half-truths, used misleading language and implied things that weren't true, kept secrets - just as you have - but this is his first baldfaced lie.
“Why-” Anne continues before you can decide, turning to look at Sebastian. “Why did you do this? Any of this...”
“I-” Sebastian stammers, you've never seen him so speechless.
“I'm not worth this.” Anne sobs and Sebastian immediately kneels, grabs her by the shoulders and shakes her.
“You are!” He declares, it sounds like a demand and a plea in one, and he's crying now too, more desperately than you ever imagined the cocky boy could. “You are! I- please, Anne, I can't live without you.”
He touches her face gently, tenderly, despair dripping from every word. “You can't say that. I- I need you. You are worth it. You... you have to be.”
He's hanging off her shoulders now, sobbing harder than even she had been, and she watches him with empty eyes.
Defeated, resignation in the slump of her shoulders, in the flatness of her expression. It hurts to watch.
She slowly raises her hand to touch his wet cheek, speaking gently. “You need to let me die.”
“No!” Sebastian practically screams, grabbing his head between his hands and you instinctively raise your wand. He's going completely off the rails, and you're worried about what could happen, what he might do, but he only continues wailing. “I can't, I need you! Anne, I can't live without you! Don't leave me, please, please stay, just- just stay... I'll do anything...”
He grasps her hand, gazing into her face, his eyes red and frenzied, and she swallows, before closing her eyes in acceptance and sorrow.
“I know... but I can't.” Anne whispers, and before his face can harden into anger, she touches his cheek with a sad smile. “So... let's go. Together.”
His entire body freezes, and you freeze too. Surely, she can't be suggesting-
“I can't- I can't let you hurt anyone else, but I understand now.” Anne gives a bitter laugh. “I was wrong to think I could just... set you free.”
He chokes on a sob, placing his hand over hers.
“I'm sorry, I'm so sorry Sebastian. It's okay.” She smiles beseechingly. “I know you don't mean to, and you would hurt too, wouldn't you? If anyone else gets hurt. If Ominis or...”
Anne gives you a glance and you jolt in place. She was serious!?
Incredulous, your eyes flicker to Sebastian, who is also staring at you now. He's wearing a complicated expression, and you're not sure which you see, fear, relief or regret. Perhaps it's all of the above.
Your heart clenches, was that why he didn't tell you when he was going to test the relic? Because he didn't want you or Ominis getting hurt if it went wrong? Because he wasn't willing to sacrifice anyone beyond himself? Was that why he seemed so eager to show you that he'd mastered the relic without a sacrifice?
Was that why his control over the relic hadn't been complete? He was so clever, it would be Sebastian who'd manage to make the relic work halfway, without even paying the price for its services.
Anne turns back to Sebastian, her voice firm. “So, come with me. I won't leave you behind to suffer.”
He returns his gaze to her, eyes wide - like a lost child - and she presses a kiss to his forehead. “We can find a quiet peaceful place, we'll spend our last days there, and then we can go. Together.”
Stop. You want to say, you want to step forward, to stop this madness, but something holds you in place. Is it shock? Is it fear? Is it because... you can't see any other option either?
Sebastian stares into her eyes, and you watch. It's like watching the most beautiful, serene, and tranquil... horror play, enacted before your very eyes. A small smile of relief spreads across Sebastian's face, and he nods.
Anne leans forward to press their foreheads together and the twins close their eyes.
“Born together...” Sebastian whispers, like a prayer.
“Live together...” Anne's smile and voice are tight and watery.
“Die together.” Sebastian breathes and something in you snaps.
“Wai-” You step forward, the word barely out of your mouth, as the kneeling twins and Solomon's body vanish with the crack of apparition, and you shout. “No!”
But the cavern is empty now, nothing but you in a sea of bones, as your shout echoes down the hollow tunnels.
You stand in shock for several moments, before panic sets in and you scramble for the doors, bones clattering loudly as you kick them out of the way. You barely manage to reach the exit without stepping on a fibula and twisting yours.
The cold evening air hits your face when you emerge from the catacomb. It's bracing, but you have no time to enjoy the fresh breeze.
With a single deep breath, you take off towards Feldcroft at a sprint, if they leave the village, you don't know where they might go. You're desperate to stop them, wishing you could apparate too. You barrel through bushes, leap over rocks, stumble as you run.
The dimly lit hillside stretches out before you, and it was only a matter of time before you tripped over something. The dirt hurts, grains lodging themselves under your fingernails, but you push yourself up with trembling arms and throw yourself forward again.
The sound of them disapparating replays in your ears on repeat. The blissful smile on Sebastian's face, the peace on Anne's, flashing through your mind.
Tears bead in your eyes, and you pray to any celestial being listening that that will not be your last image of them. You feel like the pain in your chest may never fade if it is.
You're out of breath when you arrive at the Sallow residence, and you cast your gaze about frantically, hoping to see them, but all you find is Ominis, leaning against the rock fence behind the cottage. The blind boy is bathed in the last rays of the setting sun, staring distantly with something clutched in his hand, and you rush over.
“Ominis! Have you seen Anne and Sebastian!?” You gasp out without much thought, before your eyes settle on what seems to be a freshly dug mound on the ground near him, and a tombstone that reads ‘Solomon Sallow’. A sinking feeling bears down on your shoulders, settling heavy in your gut.
A bitter, hysterical laugh, almost painful in its grief, rips from Ominis’ throat. “No... but they- goodbye... they said goodbye.”
His cheeks bear streaks of tears and he whispers brokenly. “I- I couldn't stop them...”
No pit in your stomach has ever hurt this much, you cover your mouth and stumble to the side, catching yourself on the same fence. You want to vomit, your heart hurts, they hadn’t even said goodbye to you.
“Sebastian- Sebastian gave me this...” Ominis murmurs, holding out the item in his hand, a rolled-up note. “For you-”
His words choke in his throat, and you take the parchment with trembling fingers, you feel like the same lump is in your throat, as you unroll it to read.
I'm sorry, I wish I could say goodbye to you. But I know you wouldn't let me go. So, this must suffice. Our time together has been short, but I have cherished every moment, and you will always have my gratitude for being by my side.
I have no right to ask anything of you. After everything, you would be well within your rights to hate me. You and Ominis believed in me, and I let you both down.
But please, please take care of Ominis for me? And for Anne. Don't let him be alone. I don't want him to follow us. You know how to talk to him, better than I ever did. Be there for him, like you were for me.
Please. Humour my selfishness, just one last time.
Your friend,
Sebastian Sallow
P.S. Help me burn Salazar's journal too. I no longer need it, and Ominis was right. I did end up regretting it.
Your knees hit the floor and your fist slams against stone. Pain shoots up your arm, but it doesn't compare to the pain in your heart. That fucking prick. That selfish - selfless - fucking idiot.
You hear a sob leave Ominis and he slides down to sit beside you, his expression is the most broken you've ever seen. More than in the Scriptorium, where he'd seemed more afraid than anything else. Now, he looks as though a stiff breeze could rip him apart.
You lean into him and wrap your arms around him, letting him cry into your shoulder, as you do his. Taking comfort from each other, and mourning the tragic twins who'd come to mean so much to the two of you. Those two bright souls, searing in their intensity - in their love - burning everything they touched, and then burning out like a wisp on the wind.
Alright. Alright, Sebastian. I'll try my best.
You never see them again, but you can't forget how powerful and beautiful love can be, and how painful a curse it can also be.
Maybe, hopefully, they are finally at peace.
Together.
Notes:
I tried to write this from the perspective of the average player rather than my own, because I know there's a lot of people who didn't react the same way I did during the game, and I wanted to sort of guide the brain (of anyone who relates to this response), to the conclusions I came to after analysing the game.
The reason I have Sebastian willing to burn the book and express regret is because he buried Solomon himself this time, not Anne alone. So, he had more time to feel the weight of his actions, that's one of the things I find frustrating, I've seen people go “Sebastian didn't say he regrets it until we threatened to turn him in” and I'm like, yeah, because he didn't get to face what he'd done, Anne's intervention allowed him to look away from what he'd done and distract himself. To wrap himself in the blanket of his righteousness. Thus, it was only when the social consequence became undeniable, when his actions irrevocably damaged his bond with Anne, that he was forced to face it.
For example, if a kid was recklessly grabbing a cup and it spilled everywhere, the correct thing to do is tell them that they should be more careful next time and then have the kid clean it (with your guidance, of course). The wrong things to do are; scold the child with “what's wrong with you, you are so impatient, look what you've done, you stupid kid”, or shoo the kid away and clean it yourself. One is hurtful, and the other doesn't teach the kid to take responsibility and give them a means of repenting and fixing the mistake.
Solomon repeatedly does BOTH those wrong things every single time we see him interact with Sebastian!
One of the arguments (for Sebastian being evil) that I hate the most is the, “you have to mean it, so Sebastian meant to Avada Solomon, and meant to cast the Cruciatus, he eeeevil.” Like, really? You've never done something that you were sure of in the moment and then regretted later? Seriously? Never said something hurtful, kicked a chair, broke a pencil, threw a tantrum? You sure meant it then, does that mean you can't regret it? Does that mean it didn't hurt to do it? Come on.
I was recently in an argument with someone who tried to tell me that mistakes aren't choices, saying that, “tripping on a rock, or dropping a cup is a mistake. Sebastian made a choice, not a mistake”. I'm just like, you're describing an accident, if you drop a cup, that's by accident. Mistakes are wrong/misguided choices, choices you regret, choices you want to take back. It's in the damn dictionary!
People make mistakes when under extreme stress. Case in point, Ominis. Cruciatus, big oof, 100% not his fault, but he did mean it. I just think that anyone who judges Sebastian but says Ominis is an angel doesn't understand that torture isn't always ripping off fingernails or stabbing eyeballs. The type of torture Sebastian was experiencing was equally as cruel as Ominis got from his family. Just because Sebastian's torturer is reality itself (plus his uncle salting the wound), doesn't make it any less painful or devastating.
Another one is, “Sebastian manipulated MC into helping him and lied about his goals.” Like, when? Sure, he's been evasive, he's lied by omission, been misleading, but those were always in order to advance steps on the way to the goal, his goal was very plain from the beginning and never changes. “Cure Anne. Consequences? Who cares? If she dies, I might as well die too, then nothing matters.” That's why he's so reckless, it's despair and depression. Like, Sebastian could be an unreliable narrator regarding the way Solomon treats him, but he didn’t need to do shit to make me disapprove of Solomon’s behaviour, the man earned that on his own.
You can even say that this is the exact scenario that the Ominis in my other fic, Heavy Is The Crown, was so terrified of. Sebastian just doesn't have much to live for besides Anne and Ominis.
I will admit though, that Anne's maturity and balls have been cranked up a tad for this fic, she's more insightful and willing to face Sebastian's desperation rather than running away from the reality that, whether she likes it or not, even if it's not her fault, her death will ruin him, and she can choose to do something about it, or leave him to drown without her.
In this ending, she gives Sebastian relief, she offers him permission to stop. To give up, to stop trying, to stop fighting, to stop swimming against the current, to let it carry him down the stream, shatter his body against the rocks and obediently sink to the bottom. Permission to stop acting strong, to stop trying to convince others and himself that he's strong enough to carry a dying girl on that tiny 15-year-old back. It's a relief, it's freedom, it's her saying he can say, “I've done enough.” and she won't be disappointed that he can't move on, she's accepted it.
I actually believe in euthanasia, as it is done in the Netherlands, there's just so many things that are worse than death. The person I argued with tried to convince me that murder is the greatest sin, and I'm like, I can list a million things I'd rather be murdered, than be inflicted with, you lucky sweet summer child. I congratulated them on never having reached Sebastian's desperation and they seemed to be offended, but I meant it. I would love to believe that murder is the worst sin.
Then again, this person I was arguing with also said they'd rather lock up and punish someone who regrets and is ready to repent, than for anyone to “get away with it”.
I think it's also frustrating that some people seem to think that Sebastian doesn't care about Ominis because he keeps throwing us at Ominis, but I think he's hurt that Ominis listens to a stranger over him. It's because Sebastian cares about Ominis more than his own pride, that Sebastian says “you know what, I can't figure out what Ominis needs, but I want him to get it. So, if you can do it, please, even if it hurts me to ask you to do something I wish I could do. Talk to him for me because I don't know how to do it without hurting him.”
In the game, Sebastian shows signs of being bitter about not being able to communicate properly with Ominis, and it's one of the reasons he's ready to die with Anne in this fic. Sebastian doesn't feel needed by Ominis, Sebastian mistakenly thinks that Ominis is angry that “being friends with Sebastian” means that Ominis still has to think about Dark Arts. Sebastian doesn't have a reason to stay.
And that's why I prefer legalised euthanasia, going through multiple doctors, years of evaluations, lawyers and hoops before being approved and being able to back out any time. It's better than suicide since there's professionals to make sure that you've tried every option. Without legal euthanasia, people are more likely to attempt suicide alone, and when it's based off misinformation, like Sebastian's mistaken belief that he isn't needed.
In Heavy Is The Crown, Ominis gets his head out of his ass and takes action to prevent Sebastian from falling to suicide, but in this alternate path, Ominis continues his modus operandi of just feeling sorry for himself when something he doesn't want to happen happens. Which, obviously is NOT his fault. That's his default modus operandi because of his abuse and disempowerment in his home and school, because his family influence is so broad.
Also, um, I feel like I should just say, you're welcome to interpret Sebastian and Anne's love in this fic however you wish, but I personally did not write it with incestual romance in mind. Just... making that clear. The Reader/Ominis is a bit more intentional and I do think of this as a bit of pre-ship between Ominis and MC, but you can also see that as platonic, of course!
I'm just gonna rant about the person I was arguing with for a bit. You can skip this, but if you want to know where this fic came from, feel free to read the painful experience that led to it.
One of the most horrifying things that person said was “if a woman who had been assaulted and became afraid of men afterwards or if someone had a bad experience with a black person, and retaliated against the next black person who approached them aggressively, they should be blamed for choosing to react violently.” Like, I'll grant that these people with bias resulting from bad experiences should not be in charge of making laws and they need therapy, but blame them for a fear response? Wtf-
I begged them to try to understand why people make mistakes or overreact and take their experiences into account and have compassion, if they want to prevent tragedies and treat the root of problems, and they said I was insulting them as uncompassionate. They pulled a “I've suffered too, but I didn't become a murderer” line too, why do they always pull that one? Just because you can, doesn't mean everyone else can! We are not all equal in experience, support, background, and physical/chemical make up!
I pointed out their misquotes of lines that weren't in the game, like, they said Anne said the “Inferi were heading to the town”, which... no, Anne calls Feldcroft a hamlet, not a town and that line just doesn't exist! And they said Ominis approved of Anne getting Solomon and said, “I completely forgot, Anne's going to get Solomon.” but what he actually said was “I was so worried about Sebastian. I didn't even realise - Anne's gone to get Solomon.” Completely different meaning! I was like “please play the game again, you're hallucinating” and they called that an ad hominem.
They said there's a special Rehab Azkaban for minors that has no dementors (since when!?) where kids get to leave unharmed (That's some amazing Just World Fallacy, this is a country with slavery, legal racism and no lawyers!), right after saying that Sebastian would be an adult at almost-16 during that time, so this mythical minor-rehab-Azkaban wouldn't take Sebastian anyway! They even say Inferi can't leave their gravesite without being controlled, and then, that Sebastian failed to control the Inferi contradicting their assertion that Inferi were heading to the hamlet. And then they say I'm insulting them by saying they're being contradictory and illogical. Oh, and when I pointed that out, they said the relic was controlling the Inferi not Sebastian, like, controlling them to do what!? By that logic, I can say the gun killed that guy, not me. Wtf-
Then they said it's dangerous and unhealthy to draw conclusions about someone based on how they interact with a fictional character, (even though they said they would rather lock away anyone who isn't “sufficiently repentant” irl too, which sounds good until you realise that they don't think Sebastian was repentant) and that fictional topics should stay in fiction. Like, wtf, fiction is meant to allow us to share and simulate situations, explore, and practice emotions safely so we can learn from the experience and grow as a person, and face reality wiser. I feel like this person would say Star Trek isn't political and shouldn't be compared to real world politics.
God, that was such an awful conversation, they picked a fight with me over a 2 year old thread, refused to leave me alone when I said I'd rather not fight and continued spamming me, said I'm an unpleasant person to converse with (then leave me alone, Jesus), then they accused me of liking my own posts too, and when I went and liked some to show that the 1 like wasn't myself, because, look, I liked it and it's now 2, they said that's evidence that I... was indeed liking my own posts. Like wtf? They say I'm a bad debater, and yeah. You're right, I'm not here to debate. I'm a teacher. So, if you insist on bothering me, what you get is a lecture!
And then two other people came in to pile on me, calling me nasty, an awful person and insufferable without telling me what I've done that is so “nasty”, and refusing to answer when I asked how they would rather I phrase my replies. At least when I say someone is awful, I say why, and it's pretty much only when someone tells me they want to make already suffering people suffer more. Those supporters said they didn't see any wrong quotes or wrong info from the person I argued with, and I am so confused. I feel like I'm the crazy one. What is going on, how can you two agree with this person when they are concerningly saying a 15-year-old is old enough to be treated like an adult!? Then they say I’m rude for saying that has concerning implications of the paedophilic kind. Sorry, but that's where your double standard logically leads.
Then they started mocking my "books" and laughing with each other, yeesh, what is this comically middle school bullying of the nerdy autistic kid shit? And mate, if you think 1k words make a book, I have bad news for you.
Look, we raised the age of adulthood for a reason! We have juvenile court for a reason! We raised the minimum working age for a reason! Children do not yearn for the mines! We abolished “guilty until proven innocent” for a reason! We take dangerous things/info out of reach of kids, not keep them in the easily broken-into Restricted Section! We don't just judge radicalised kids and lock them up in a torture chamber with dementors, we figure out how it happened and understand it, to prevent it from happening again. We rehabilitate them and offer them compassion, dignity and support. Hell, it's usually depression causing the problems and you want to throw the kid in depression central? Even if you think there's a non-Azkaban rehab, mental hospitals in the 1890s were also torture chambers!
Who decides who is unsaveable and who isn't!? Who is repentant and who isn't!? This person decided on their own that Sebastian will 100% kill again, when the person he killed in the heat of battle- when Solomon attacked Sebastian emotionally for years and then physically. They even said that Sebastian blamed Anne for leaving him when Sebastian explicitly said, “I can't blame her. I couldn't really blame any of you if you gave up on me entirely. You all believed in me. And I let you all down.”
I tried so hard to get them to realise that there was nothing Sebastian could have done to convince them he'd changed and was worthy of a second chance, that they'd already judged him, closed the possibility in their mind and given him a task that was impossible, because they'd already decided that he was unsaveable. That they are more fixated on punishment than reform. That they simply want justice without compassion.
They gave him an exam with a pass grade of 130/100. He has no chance and that's not fair. (Which ironically, was the same thing they did to me with the "likes" thing, they seemed to think I was pissed about that because I cared about... honestly, I don't know, I don't see what the point of that would have been, but the thing that actually pissed me off was that there was no way to convince them that I didn't like my own replies. Even though I have zero reason to do such a thing and have proven it by actively using my one like to bring it to 2.)
But they literally went, “I'm done reading your essays, I'm right and you're wrong.” I can never get over how painful that is, to face a person who slams the door in my face after I spent so much effort trying to reach them sincerely and honestly. Called insufferable because I refuse to bend my principles, my belief that everyone deserves mercy and a second chance. I plead for kindness, and they get angry instead and say I'm, “nauseatingly full of yourself” and “talking down on people”.
I'm on my knees bro- I'm not talking down on you, I am begging you, for the people around you, the children you say you are in charge of caring for. You don't know how painful it is to not be believed when you are trying to change. When you know you've made a mistake you can't take back, and you want to repent and make up for it, but nobody believes you or gives you the chance to. To be accused of crocodile tears or purposely fucking up or not trying.
To just be punished, made an example of, and hung out to dry as a child. To be given up on, betrayed by those you thought you could count on. To realise your best was never enough, could never have been enough. That you were doomed to fail from the start, and nobody cares that that was your best.
I know those people wouldn't even read this, but you who are reading please understand that, in the face of all that…
In the wake of Solomon's death, Ominis decides that Sebastian cannot be trusted to make sound judgement and takes measures to ensure that Sebastian will present no danger to himself or others. Sebastian was lucky this time, the new fifth-year and Anne were willing to spare him, but the next time Sebastian crosses a line, Ominis might not be able to save him from death or Azkaban.
Ominis has practically lost Anne, he cannot lose Sebastian too, and he will do whatever it takes to protect Sebastian.
Even from himself.
Warnings: Sebastian x Ominis! Smut! Dubious consent (that is actually very consensual)! Post-canon! These idiots can't communicate to save their lives, but they'll get there by the end, I only write happy endings.
You can also read on AO3! (chapter specific warnings below)
Notes:
Warnings: More smut, branding, hurt/comfort, a lot of comfort haha
I might draw art for this fic, if I have some spare time one of these days. If I do, it'll probably be in an extra chapter, maybe with a short epilogue scene or something =D
Edit: I made some minor changes to improve clarity after receiving feedback from a commenter, sorry about that, and don't worry, the changes don't actually change what happened haha
Here's another quote I really like, I went back and added some more relevant quotes to Chapters 1 and 3 too lol
"Kindness is a language which the deaf can hear and the blind can see."
~ Mark Twain
Ominis sighed, seated on the edge of the bed, his fingers tight around the cuffs that were previously locked around Sebastian's wrists and the brunet's quiet snores, the only sound filling the room. His body felt sore from exertion and his heart heavy with guilt, no longer able to run from reality. The muffled cries of pain he'd heard from Sebastian as he ran through the hallway, echoing in his ears.
It was his fault that Sebastian had been assaulted and tortured by his brother. His fault that Anne had died alone, that Sebastian hadn't been able to say goodbye to her.
Keeping Sebastian trapped in here, could he really say it was for his protection anymore? Or was it just for himself?
Was his brother right? Was he protecting Sebastian from heartbreak or was he protecting himself from having to deal with Sebastian's grief at Anne's passing? From the risk that Ominis might not be enough, that he might not be able to help Sebastian recover from that? Was he just looking for an excuse to keep Sebastian chained to his side?
Ominis pressed a hand to his face, a choked sob leaving his throat. What was he doing? Making Sebastian more vulnerable over the last few years, dependent on him, he couldn't deny that it'd felt good. Imposing control on something in his fucked-up life.
Living as a self-serving pureblood lord. When had the act become real?
“Ominis?” Sebastian's voice was hoarse, and Ominis’ guilt only grew.
He was tired, so tired. He had to stop this. Had to fix his mistakes. Had to come clean, even if it risked losing Sebastian. It was his only path to redemption.
“Anne's dead.” Ominis murmured.
The silence was thick enough to cut with a knife, and Ominis felt like he was standing on that razor's edge, on the cusp of insanity.
“...I know.” Sebastian finally choked out.
Ominis’ eyes widened. “You- knew?”
“I- sort of, my research and calculations... five years would have been a miracle.” Sebastian swallowed thickly, his voice trembling with pain. “I had hoped- I wanted to be wrong.”
His voice broke, turning into sobs, and Ominis’ heart broke along with it as he reached a hand towards Sebastian, wanting to comfort him but not knowing if it'd be welcome.
“Why didn't-” Sebastian bit out through his tears. “...didn't you tell me?”
Ominis felt shame envelop him and he placed his hand back in his lap, answering in a small voice. “Because I wanted to spare you the pain.”
Sebastian gave a wet and bitter laugh in response. “How funny, Amit was right, karma's a bitch.”
Ominis frowned in confusion, and he could hear the twisted smile in Sebastian's voice. “That's the same reason I didn't tell you about the relic.”
Right... five years ago, Merlin, it felt so small now, so small compared to the five years he'd stolen from Sebastian, the five years he'd tortured Sebastian. Feeding him false hope, holding him in a suspended state of anxiety and desperation.
“I had another reason.” Ominis murmured, knowing he had to do this now, in its entirety or he would never. Sick to his stomach and bracing for condemnation, he spoke. “I didn't want to lose you, your friendship, your love. I wanted to keep you by my side forever.”
Another moment of silence that felt like it stretched into eternity.
The bedsheets rustled and he tensed, but made no move for his wand, leaving his back open and vulnerable. It was the least he owed Sebastian.
Then there were arms around his neck, but rather than strangling the life out of him, they were instead clutching tightly at his shoulders and Ominis felt the thunk of Sebastian's forehead against his shoulder blade.
“Idiot.” Sebastian's voice was thick with bitter amusement, and Ominis felt wetness trickle down his bare back. “You already had that, no matter what you did or didn't do. You didn't need a reason to keep me.”
A sob caught at the back of Ominis’ throat. “It's not- what I've done isn't forgivable.”
“Maybe.” Sebastian huffed, pressing his cheek against Ominis' shoulder. “But that's not for you to decide.”
At his words, tears began to roll down Ominis’ cheeks as well.
“I'm home.” Ominis sighed tiredly as he hung his coat on the rack.
“...welcome home...” Came the distant reply, and Ominis chuckled, stepping further into the room.
“How's it coming along?” He asked as he moved towards Sebastian's voice.
“...terribly, I'm still not sure if this is African or Aztec.” Came a frustrated grumble. “The ground team's sketches of the etchings on the left look African, but the ones on the right are completely different. Damn goblins and their secrecy, if they'd just tell me where they dug up this cursed helm, it'd be so much easier to identify.”
“Sounds like you're enjoying your promotion.” Ominis chuckled, finding Sebastian's shoulders and giving it a rub.
“Not sure I'm enjoying the unpaid overtime.” Sebastian heaved a sigh and set down whatever tools he might have been using. “But it sure beats archive organisation.”
“I can imagine.” Ominis smiled when Sebastian turned slightly to press a kiss to his knuckles.
He'd been surprised when Sebastian had decided to join the archiving branch of Gringotts' Curse Breakers. Choosing a boring desk job instead of working on the field, recovering artefacts from dangerous tombs and dungeons.
Surprised, and grateful.
“And you? How's the investigation going?” Sebastian asked, releasing a soft moan as Ominis kneaded at his shoulders, sore from hunching over at his desk for hours.
“Fairly well, I would say. Our friend's raid on the Macnair family with their Auror team was successful, and Natty's preparing to prosecute the head of house next week.” Ominis answered with a satisfied smile.
“Thanks to your insider info. Dismantling the pureblood aristocracy, one family at a time.” Sebastian snorted. “And people called me devilish.”
“Only because they don't know you, like I do.” Ominis chuckled, before pausing, his heart twisting with guilt once again. Only because they don't know how trusting and forgiving you really are under all the bluster.
He'd been so scared, when he was finally in a position to free Sebastian, when arrangements had been made to ensure that the Gaunts would present no threat to either Sebastian or himself. So terrified that his beloved would leave him, that Sebastian would reveal that he'd been lying when he said that he'd forgiven Ominis.
But he hadn't.
Sebastian had stayed.
Had even helped Ominis talk their mysterious friend down. They had been furious when they'd seen how Sebastian looked after six long years in Ominis’ care, and his condition had already improved vastly by then. Ominis was certain that their friend would have killed him on the spot if they'd seen how Sebastian had looked, before he told Sebastian the truth about Anne's death.
If the shame Ominis felt had been any less unbearable, he might have found it amusing that their roles were now reversed. With Sebastian convincing their friend not to arrest Ominis for kidnapping.
He doubted they'd believed Sebastian's story about working with Ominis as part of a huge charade to gather information about the Gaunts and dismantle their corrupt empire. ‘To fool your enemies, you must first fool your friends’, Sebastian had said, but despite their clear scepticism, the Auror had eventually agreed to work with Ominis. To let him redeem himself for all the damage he'd done in service to his family.
And Sebastian... Sebastian had stayed with him.
Spent his days together with Ominis, both the good... and the bad.
The days where Sebastian simply sat unmoving, staring silently into nothing, tears drying on his cheeks, seeming almost lost and distant, hours stretching into days, especially before he'd been freed. Days that Ominis spent overcome with fear, not knowing what to do, but he'd forced himself to bear it patiently. To simply hold Sebastian, feed him and comfort him, read books to the grieving brunet and wait for him to come out of it.
It was torture.
Every time, it was all Ominis could do to not break down himself, but Sebastian always came back, and with the passage of time, those empty days became fewer and fewer. Now, it only happened every few weeks, and Sebastian had recovered much of his liveliness outside of them, to Ominis’ immense relief.
Sebastian was even starting to be able to speak with him during his empty days. He would talk about how it'd felt to be locked up with his fear and desperation, how much he missed Anne, how painful it was to wake up and know that she was gone, how difficult it was to keep his mind away from her, from Solomon, from Marvolo, and Ominis just listened.
It hurt, to have the results of his mistakes and failings laid out before him, unable to cover his ears, unable to run, but Ominis knew that after five years of selfishness, it was the least he could do. To help Sebastian sort through his feelings, to endure the pain and be there for Sebastian. To help Sebastian figure out what he needed and provide it, whether it was sex or a listening ear or privacy or even just Ominis’ presence. He'd committed himself to giving Sebastian anything he needed to recover.
Yet through all that, through even the worst of his empty days, Sebastian never blamed him for what he'd done. Never blamed Ominis for being selfish, never blamed Ominis for hurting him. Never even blamed Ominis for costing him his NEWTs, for how much harder it'd been for Sebastian to get the job he'd wanted with the Curse Breakers.
Instead, Sebastian had quipped - with some dry amusement - that all the focused research he'd done in the Gaunt dungeons had made him a bona-fide expert in curse analysis and identification. That no one could deny his knowledge and that was worth more than a certificate.
Honestly, it was hard to believe that Sebastian truly held no bitterness towards him. Ominis himself was still haunted by nightmares of Sebastian leaving, cursing his name and calling him a rapist, no better than the rest of his family. Of running through the dungeon halls, searching desperately for Sebastian while his screams echoed down the endless corridor.
Or worse, coming home to his beloved Sebastian hanging from the rafter tie. His beautiful neck at an angle, his soft skin cold and hard under Ominis’ fingers-
“Ominis?” Sebastian's voice broke his focus and Ominis realised that his hands had stilled at some point.
Shaking the thoughts from his head, Ominis continued kneading, asking instead. “How many howlers did I get today?”
Sebastian eyed the blond from the corner of his eye for a moment, before answering.
“A little under thirty, twelve were cursed.” Sebastian shook his head, scoffing. “Can't believe Marvolo managed to bribe his way out of Azkaban.”
“At least he can only empty the Family vaults once for a stunt like that.” Ominis smiled with some satisfaction as the knots under his hands unravelled. “The next time he breaks the law, he won't be able to wiggle his way out of Azkaban.”
“Serves him right.” Sebastian sighed, shivering as Ominis’ hands travelled up along his neck to rub his scalp, Merlin he loved Ominis’ hands.
Feeling himself harden at the sensations, Sebastian reached behind him to take those elegant hands, standing and tugging the blond towards the bed. “Come ‘ere, I've got something to give you.”
With a bemused smile, Ominis allowed his lover to drag him across the once empty cottage that they now shared in Feldcroft, before shaking his head as Sebastian pushed him down to lie on the bed. “Love, I haven't even taken a bath.”
“It's not like you sweat much at your boring desk job.” Sebastian rolled his eyes as he kicked his drawers off and straddled Ominis’ clothed thighs. “Don't you feel bad making me wait all day?”
“Not at all.” Ominis smirked, listening to the sound of Sebastian taking off his shirt. “Nobody forced you to abstain till I got home.”
Sebastian grumbled under his breath as he placed his gift in Ominis’ hands with a simple. “Here.”
Ominis blinked in surprise, he hadn't thought Sebastian actually had something to give him, and he curiously examined the cylindrical object with his fingers.
“A pen?” He asked, slightly underwhelmed and wondering why Sebastian had gotten him something he couldn't really use.
“Yup, and not just any old reed pen from Ancient Egypt.” Sebastian answered, squirming nervously in Ominis’ lap. “It's an early prototype of the pen their magical population used to brand slaves, it's cursed-”
Ominis immediately dropped it, and Sebastian quickly caught the pen before it rolled off the bed, making haste to clarify. “It's not dangerous! It's an early prototype so its function is fairly basic. It's cursed to create a raised mark on skin that cannot be covered up with any form of glamour magic. Leaves something like a welt scar. Honestly, it's only still considered a dark artifact because it's a permanent mark that can't be reversed.”
At Ominis’ suspicious expression, Sebastian huffed. “I swear, it's not like with the relic. I actually did proper research this time. Look, I even got a permit to borrow it from Gringotts.”
Sebastian reached into the drawer beside the bed, pulling out both the permit and catalogue entry for Ominis to read. Watching as the blond accepted the documents, before casting a quick spell on it to turn the writing into Braille and run his fingers along the parchment.
It hadn't been easy to get a permit to borrow the pen, but Sebastian understood now, that he'd fucked up with the relic, not following any procedures, endangering himself and others. Even though he'd planned to risk only himself, his Ancient Magic wielding friend had followed him into the catacombs, Anne had gotten Solomon, and then everything had spiralled out of his control.
He couldn't just expect others to understand that he was protecting them and do what he wanted them to.
Even if the relic had been promising, even if being able to control Anne's curse would have allowed him to at least give her some rest from the pain, reduce the strain the curse placed on her body, and prolong her life till a cure could be found.
Even if such a promising relic had seemed worth any risk, that surely, the writings of Salazar Slytherin could be trusted to be accurate. Sebastian now understood that he couldn’t count on other people agreeing with what seemed obvious to him. Especially if the only evidence he had of success was just, trust me mate.
People would try to stop him, and it wouldn't matter if he'd been right or not. He could cry about that all he wanted, it wouldn't change reality. If he wanted to be believed - and not destroy his relationships - he had to be patient and work hard to convince others. To communicate and to prove his credibility with consistent efforts.
He wasn't an island, separated from the rest of the world, he couldn't act like he wouldn't affect others, that he wouldn't be breaking Ominis’ heart if something happened to him. Ominis needed him, so Sebastian would be careful and patient, for Ominis.
Eventually, when he was done reading the documents, Ominis returned them to Sebastian, who placed them back into the drawer.
The blond felt slightly mollified to see from the permit - bearing the official Gringotts seal - that Sebastian hadn't stolen the pen, and that the description on the catalogue entry matched what Sebastian had said, but that still begged the question.
“Why are you offering me this?” Ominis frowned, conflicting feelings swirling about his insides.
“Because... well, I know you released me and renounced everything dark, but...” Sebastian smiled, lowering his head almost shyly. “I'm yours and I want to wear it. Forever.”
Ominis’ eyes widened at his words, before softening. Had Sebastian noticed? How afraid Ominis also was, that he would one day come back to an empty cottage. That the handsome young man that Sebastian had grown into would easily find someone less anxious and controlling. Someone with less baggage.
“Sebastian.” Ominis murmured, reaching up to cradle the brunet's freckled cheek.
“Yeah?” Sebastian swallowed nervously.
“Are you proposing to me?” Ominis’ smile was bemused. “Most people would use a ring, love.”
Sebastian flushed and huffed. “Maybe. Well, look, I'm not most people. Honestly, if you don't want to, you can jus-”
Pushing himself upright, Ominis’ hand slipped lower to cup Sebastian's jaw, interrupting him with a tender kiss, only parting after a sweet moment to whisper. “I do. Of course I do.”
Sebastian swallowed again, his throat going dry at the choked emotion in Ominis’ voice and he nodded mutely in lieu of a reply.
Taking the hand at his jaw, Sebastian placed the pen back onto Ominis’ palm, watching the blond's face intently.
“Are you sure?” Ominis asked, his tone serious and expression rather grave. “It sounds like it'll be painful.”
Rolling his eyes, Sebastian nodded again, answering firmly. “I am. I took a Cruciatus in fifth-year, I can handle a little pain.”
Ominis snorted, his fingers closing around the pen as the seconds passed, looking as though he were deep in thought, and when the silence stretched on, Sebastian became nervous again and asked. “A- are you?”
Ominis blinked, before giving him a wry smile. “I am, it's just... Well, I wouldn't say that I have the best penmanship.”
Sebastian's body practically deflated with relief, and he rolled his eyes again, placing a hand over Ominis’. “I can guide you.”
“That'd be helpful, yes.” Ominis chuckled sheepishly, before hesitantly asking. “Would you like to write on me too?”
Sebastian blinked in surprise, it hadn't even occurred to him, and he shook his head with a laugh. “I already know you're mine, this is for you. So that you can remember, even when I can't say it.”
Ominis’ eyes widened at his words, before biting his lip. “I'm sor-”
“Not this agai- You're supposed to say thank you here.” Sebastian shook his head emphatically.
Ominis blinked at the interruption, before his eyes closed and he smiled, a small grateful smile, and Sebastian cupped his face gently, leaning forward to place a soft kiss on his forehead.
He knew how much it hurt Ominis when he was feeling down, when Sebastian was too tired to drive away the pain or hide it, when words were too much or when he couldn’t stop himself from airing his thoughts. He knew that talking about his grief for Anne reminded Ominis of his own, and no matter how tempting it often was, to take his stress out on Ominis, knowing he wouldn’t fight back, it was more than enough for Sebastian to be in pain, he didn't want to hurt Ominis too.
If this mark could be of some comfort to Ominis when Sebastian was too exhausted to remind him that it wasn't his fault, that Sebastian didn't blame Ominis for his suffering, then it would be worth all the pain in the world.
“...thank you...” Ominis whispered, his smile trembling at the corners, and Sebastian straightened with a satisfied grin.
“What should we write?” He asked curiously. “Your full name? Would you prefer it in Braille?”
“...just my first name, Ominis’. In written English, with an apostrophe should be good enough.” Ominis replied after a moment's thought, and Sebastian shivered at his answer, fighting the urge to rub himself against the blond’s thighs.
Wanting it in writing rather than Braille meant that it was as much for Ominis to see with his fingers, as it was a statement for others, and Sebastian desperately tried to force away his arousal at the idea. It wouldn't do for his hands to become unsteady and make a permanent mistake while writing.
Funny as that would be, it would also be quite embarrassing.
“Where would you like it?” Sebastian asked. “I won't be able to guide your hand if we put it on my back.”
Ominis placed his hand against Sebastian's collar, dragging down along his skin, fingers brushing through the fine hairs on his chest, following the trail down, and coming to a stop an inch or two below his navel, just above the patch of hair that his very upright dick was nestled in.
“I think here would be good.” Ominis swallowed, his voice thick with heat, and Sebastian felt almost dizzy at his tone. The tip of his length brushed against Ominis’ forearm, making him shiver at the faint stimulation and the blond gave a low chuckle. “Though, you might have to calm down a tad, this is a little... in the way.”
Ominis trailed his fingers lightly over Sebastian's erection as he said this, a small smirk curled over his lips, and the brunet glared at him, because that was most certainly not helping!
Shaking his head, Sebastian swallowed a whimper and choked out. “I- it's fine, we can just- hold it out of the way. The incantation is Ligare.”
Ominis chuckled again, and as suggested, held the... obstruction aside, murmuring the spell under his breath like a prayer, whispered under the moonlight. While Sebastian took the hand holding the pen - whose tip had turned a bright red - and guided it to his abdomen, struggling to keep his hand steady with Ominis’ long slender fingers around his erection.
Deciding that he should start with the ‘n’ in the middle of Ominis’ name to keep it centralised, Sebastian brought it to the middle and winced when the pen's tip made contact with his skin. Okay, yeah, fuck, that hurt.
A sharp breath hissed through his teeth at the biting sting, it was a curious sensation, almost like brushing against a cat's fur after patting it for too long, but more painful and without the accompanying crackle.
Taking another steadying breath, Sebastian held it and, clenching his teeth, dragged the pen's burning tip across his skin. It was like the kiss of a red-hot poker, and yet, there was a certain satisfaction throbbing through him, as he carved out the name of the person who had dictated the course of his life and always would from now on.
Ominis was already a part of him, as dear as his twin, and all he'd had left. In giving himself to Ominis this way, was a quiet desperate hope that he would always be. He'd already lost everyone he'd ever loved, and Sebastian knew that he couldn’t live without Ominis anymore. If he could speak this reality to Ominis this way, any pain was worth bearing.
Sweat beaded on his brow and he felt Ominis’ forehead rest against his own, their breaths mingling in the space between them. Those eyes of pale marble, gazing at nothing, yet peering into his soul, soft and tender, as the pen burned their oath into his flesh.
Sebastian's abdomen spasmed as the pen left his skin and came back on the other side, his breaths coming heavier as his trembling hand guided Ominis’.
A few minutes later, the pen was curving along the curl of the last letter, and - touching the mark off with a small notch at the end - it was done.
A sigh of relief escaped Sebastian's lips and, taking the pen from Ominis’ hand, he set it down on the bedside table. While Ominis left momentarily to retrieve a wiggenweld potion, which Sebastian gratefully accepted and emptied, before setting it aside as well.
Then Ominis climbed back into the bed, sitting behind Sebastian and pulling the brunet into his arms, tracing his fingers over the letters now permanently burned into his abdomen.
Sebastian shivered at the gentle touch, watched as those elegant fingers followed the curves and ridges of the pink scar, resting his head back against Ominis’ shoulder with a grin. “Great, now the next time someone hits on me, I can just pull my pants down a little to show I'm taken.”
Ominis immediately stiffened, his voice incredulous as he echoed. “The next tim- Absolutely not, you will not be exposing any part of your body, not even to show this!”
Sebastian chuckled as Ominis spluttered in indignation, the blond's hand now gripping his hip possessively.
“Aw, then shouldn't we have put it somewhere more visible?” Sebastian smirked, he loved teasing this side of Ominis out into the open.
He could hear the frown in Ominis’ steely voice. “I was trying to be considerate, surely you can just tell people that you're not interested.”
“Come on, I said I wanted to wear it, and I meant it. It's a funnier way to turn people down.” Sebastian pouted for a moment, before purring into Ominis’ ear. “But we've already done it, so maybe you should just leave other marks, where people can see.”
The blond's eyes narrowed. “I know what you're doing.”
“Doing? I'm not doing anything, maybe you're the one who wants to leave marks all over me.” Sebastian chuckled, dragging his tongue along the side of Ominis’ jaw and grinding back against the hardness pressing against his tailbone. “Don't you? On my neck, my wrists, maybe leave a big bite mark on my cheek for everyone to see.”
His only warning was a tensing of Ominis’ shoulder under his head, and then Sebastian found his face pressed into the sheets while Ominis draped himself over his back.
“You insatiable thing.” Ominis hissed into his ear and proceeded to bury his perfect teeth into Sebastian's freckled shoulder and the brunet released a thick moan at the sting.
With an internal crow of victory, Sebastian reached a hand under his pillow, pulling out a small vial of oil and tapping it against Ominis arm, where it was braced against the sheets beside his head.
“I should take you with nothing but spit, maybe then you'd be less horny.” Ominis grumbled under his breath as he removed his teeth from Sebastian's shoulder and took the offered vial.
“Mm, or maybe I'll like that too.” Sebastian breathed with a sly grin.
An exasperated sigh came from behind him as Ominis carefully removed the brunet's butt plug and replaced it with his oil coated length. “What am I to do...”
Despite his words, there was an unmistakable warmth and fondness in Ominis’ voice, and Sebastian snickered. “Me. Obviously.”
There was a moment of silence, as Ominis presumably absorbed the terrible joke, before Sebastian's arse was subsequently absorbing the impact of Ominis’ hips. Sebastian released a muffled whimper as his face was shoved back into the pillows and the familiar ecstasy of Ominis’ cock pressing against his prostate had him choking on his next breath.
“You talk too much.” Ominis sighed, savouring the warmth of Sebastian's body. Complain as he may, he was equally as addicted as Sebastian was.
“Want to get me a gag?” Sebastian groaned, turning his face to the side to breathe, a giddy smile stretched across his panting mouth. “I think that could be fun.”
A disbelieving laugh escaped Ominis’ chest, and he shook his head helplessly, trailing his fingers up along Sebastian's spine, before bracing that hand against the headboard as he leaned forward to press his chest against the brunet's back.
Pressing a kiss to Sebastian's shoulder, Ominis murmured softly. “And deprive myself of the lovely sounds you also make? No, I can endure your poor humour if I must.”
Sebastian huffed, grumbling under his breath. “Who's joking?”
Shaking his head again, Ominis slid his free hand over Sebastian's abdomen, running his fingers over the welts, and feeling Sebastian's stomach shake with chuckles when Ominis’ erection twitched noticeably inside his body.
Narrowing his eyes at the brunet's amusement - at his expense - Ominis took Sebastian's heavy length in his hand, getting a gasp from his partner as he did. Tracing his fingers over the smooth sensitive flesh at Sebastian's tip and relishing the way he immediately tightened around him, heated moans slipping from Sebastian's lips.
“Fu- ck- Omi- move, please...” Sebastian pleaded, eyes rolling into his skull as his hips trembled, torn between wanting to thrust into Ominis’ grip and grind back against his hips, but having the space to do neither. “I'm sorry- I'll be good, just- please move, I'm going mad here-”
Ominis’ lips parted to release a hot breath at the begging, fuck, how did Sebastian always manage to find the words to shatter his self-control and drive him insane?
“-need you, Ominis- please-” Sebastian choked when Ominis finally began to thrust, pumping Sebastian's hips into his grip and making the brunet writhe, drool trickling down his chin and seeping into the sheets as he panted for air.
So good, Sebastian whimpered, Ominis always felt so good inside him, pinning him to the bed like he were a bitch in heat, though the blond would probably be extremely offended to be compared to a dog. But down on his knees like this, Sebastian felt like he didn't need to fight anymore. All he had to do, all he could do, was lie there and take that delicious arse pounding.
He didn't need to think, didn't need to be strong, didn’t need to be right, didn’t need to impress, didn't need to do anything but enjoy the sensations washing over him, the feeling of Ominis’ length pressing against his insides, those slender fingers around his swollen erection. The sound of Ominis’ pants and groans filling his ears, and the thought that Sebastian, at his most honest and vulnerable, was making Ominis sound like that - sound so choked with pleasure, so wrecked - made pride bloom in his chest.
Sebastian clutched at the sheets, whining when he felt Ominis’ teeth sink into the back of his neck, shuddering at the thought of walking about with bright red lines showing under the collar of his coat. Though Ominis would probably insist that he wear a scarf to work tomorrow. So considerate. Admittedly, he did love that about Ominis too.
Sebastian gasped as Ominis suckled on the puffy skin around the bite like a vampire, thinking of how the scab would chafe against the fabric, and imagining how good the marks would look if he had a nice little pet collar over them, like the one he'd seen in Diagon Alley last week. He wanted to bring Ominis to the shop, wanted to beg Ominis to buy it for him. It wouldn't be the same if Sebastian bought it for himself, after all.
Ugh, but his boyfriend - fiancé? - would probably be reluctant to put Sebastian in anything resembling the chains he'd worn for five years.
Sebastian moaned as Ominis ground against his prostate and lapped at the already healing bite, feeling a pinch of irritation at the wiggenweld still flowing through his veins. Merlin, he loved the man, even if he was ridiculously responsible and cautious. What did he have to do to get Ominis to let loose and really fuck him up? Make his brain turn to mush in his skull.
He knew the blond had it in him, but it was fine - Sebastian bit his lip as his length throbbed and his cum oozed into Ominis’ palm - he could wait. They had their entire lives ahead of them, he can just keep reassuring Ominis that he wanted this, wanted him, wanted Ominis exactly the way he was, warts and all. That Ominis was perfect, that he didn't need to act like anything else, that there was no ‘shoulds’ in their relationship.
Until Ominis believed it.
As his insides were soon filled with Ominis’ hot seed, Sebastian released a contented sigh, waiting patiently for Ominis to plug him up as usual and lie down beside him. Admiring the light pink flush spread over those pale cheekbones, the satisfied crinkle around the corners of his eyes, the gentle smile lifting the corners of his lips as Ominis lowered himself to the bed tiredly.
Reaching out to caress the beautiful man's face, Sebastian pressed a kiss to his lips and then wrapped his limbs around Ominis, tucking his face into the crook of his shoulder.
“Love you, Ominis.” He murmured sleepily.
Ominis smiled softly, his expression thoughtful for several moments, before finally speaking in barely a whisper, breathless with wonder. “I think I... I'm starting to believe that.”
Sebastian lifted his head to stare at him, wide eyes quickly becoming glossy, and he raised a hand to cup the blond’s cheek again, his name coming out choked with happiness. “...Ominis...”
Ominis cradled that hand with his own, and pressed a kiss to Sebastian's palm, his voice thick with emotion as he breathed a quiet. “I love you too.”
Notes:
(And that’s why the Gaunts were broke in Harry Potter xD I love coming up with explanations for canon elements like that =D)
If you don't give your partner the opportunity to hurt you, they won't get the opportunity to love you. It's the old cheesy, “if you love something, set it free. If it comes back it's yours. If it doesn't, it never was.”
To love is to be vulnerable, to put a sword in the other person's hands and allow them the chance to stab you. Knowing it'll destroy you if they do. If you can't do that, it's alright, such love isn't necessary to live. My Aromantic bestie is living her best life and rocking it on her own. But if you want that type of love, that's what you gotta do.
The irony is that if you really love someone, you need to be ready to lose them, whether to change or chance. For their sake, for your own, you have to accept that you can't control them and shouldn't. Only then, can you actually have influence over them. But by that point, you love them, flaws and faults, failings and disappointment, all of it.
When you love someone that way and have that love in return, change isn't so scary. You learn to love every change in each other, understand that every new layer you discover is a deeper understanding of the other, that getting the opportunity, being allowed by your loved one to see them at their weakest, is an honour.
Healthy mutual love comes with hurting each other by accident, but it also comes with the willingness to accept when we've hurt the other, to put aside our pride and admit that we fucked up, and try not to do it again.
Forgiveness and support are vital to change, and one can't do it alone either. We see, in this fic, Ominis try to support Sebastian alone and even though Sebastian was willing to change, it doesn't work because Ominis is not perfect and has his own flaws and failings to stumble into. Whereas at the end, the MC of this world and Natty also support Ominis in his path to redemption, not just Sebastian alone. And of course, Ominis’ own effort and commitment to change is equally vital.
Ominis has to suffer through knowing that anything Sebastian says is still questionable and not reliable for the entire year it takes to be ready to free Sebastian (because Sebastian is still under Ominis' control till then). It's only after Sebastian is free that he can know if his life is over, if Sebastian will leave him or not.
We are not islands, and we are not perfect, we need other people to make up for our deficiencies, that's why friends or family or even counselling are important to support a healthy romantic relationship. Because it can be very dangerous if your partner isn't on the same page as you.
In this fic, Ominis does the same thing Sebastian did with Anne. Ominis did everything he did “for Sebastian”, like how Sebastian did everything in the game “for Anne”.
Sebastian understands that Ominis fell into the exact same trap as he did and because he's made the same mistake, just on a smaller scale, he can understand that it came from love and desperation.
The reason I would still put more accountability on Ominis in this fic is because Sebastian made it very clear to Ominis when he wanted out, and gave Ominis the opportunity to respect his wishes.
Anne, on the other hand, was giving Sebastian mixed signals, she showed excitement and eagerness when Sebastian brought her the Shrivelfig and she agreed to the ritual even after Sebastian told her it required a dark sacrifice. It's not Sebastian's fault he couldn’t read her mind, and couldn’t see that she didn't agree with him that Solomon had betrayed them by standing in the way of seeking a cure.
Like, Anne, Solomon is trying to stop Sebastian from curing you. Obviously, in order to fulfil your wish, Sebastian's gotta take Solomon out of the equation. You can't have your cake and eat it gurl.
Anne never even tried to talk about her misgivings with Sebastian, if she was worried about Sebastian endangering himself or others, she could've said something, slapped him in the face and told him point blank that if he kept up with this, she'd never forgive him. Before he stepped over her boundaries and did something she couldn't forgive him for.
There were so many things Anne could have done besides simply agreeing to the ritual when Sebastian told her about it. Though, we know why she hadn't, because she did want to be cured. Of course, who wouldn't? Perfectly understandable.
But, if you say and do one thing, but mean another, you can't blame the other person for failing to read your mind and figure out what you really mean. If you don't state your boundaries and limits clearly, you don't get to be righteously furious when someone steps over them. Not giving boundaries forces the other person to assume, and to assume makes an ass out of u and me.
It isn't Anne's fault for being torn, but it is on her for not communicating her feelings and boundaries to Sebastian. If you essentially ask someone to do something nigh impossible, you don't get to complain about how they get it done.
In contrast, Sebastian states his mind clearly in the game and in this fic, and Ominis tramples on “for Sebastian” anyway. That's why Ominis needs to redeem himself, as illustrated in this chapter. (And Sebastian for failing to consider the impacts of his actions on his loved ones.)
That's actually one of the things I love about Sebastian. Sebastian is honest, outspoken and consistent. There's no guessing with him. Kid says what he means and means what he says.
Is he perfect? Hell no, far from it, he's emotional, he had a brief moment of denial after Solomon, where he couldn’t come to terms with what he'd done, he's lied by omission and misleading wording, he makes mistakes, he's got that type of arrogance that comes from the Dunning-Kruger Effect, he was wrong about goblins, etc. But even when he's going nuts, he sure isn't hiding it, he's honest about his goals, his feelings, and his motivations, and he's consistent with them too.
Guess culture needs to die, everyone has different ‘shoulds’ and ‘should nots’. We shouldn't ever assume another person's boundaries and use your own personal “common sense” on others. What's obvious to you isn't obvious to everyone else, even if many people agree with you, even if a majority of people agree with you, that doesn't mean you don't need to be clear. If you're unsure, heck, even if you're sure of someone's boundaries, like “this person wouldn't mind this”, CHECK ANYWAY!
And the burden here shouldn't just be on other people to ask you what your boundaries are, you can't know what you don't know! If you accidentally gave the wrong impression or there was a miscommunication, the other person might not know that they needed to ask for clarification, so the best way to avoid all that is to be clear and repetitive with your position.
I know, the more you love someone, the more scary it is to set your boundaries because you're scared they'll get upset and leave, but the more you need to, the more you need to declare your preferences and boundaries. There should be no shame for “stating the obvious”, because even if you think “it's obvious I wouldn't like this”, SAY IT ANYWAY!
Seriously, all that needed to happen, to avoid this whole tragic questline in the game, was literally just Anne giving Sebastian her boundaries. If he continues, even after she gives him a solid “no dark sacrifice rituals to cure me”, then he's 100% fucked up and stepped over her boundaries and everything that went wrong could have been pinned on him. That would be a fuck up on the same level as Ominis’ in this fic and that's the point when MC, Ominis and Anne should report Sebastian to the authorities before he hurts anyone.
Communicating and working hard to maintain trust is vital to any relationship, the moment you slack off, it’ll start sliding downhill. You don’t get married and stop courting your partner, you don’t just bank on the blood ties between family, and you can’t expect past goodwill to keep a friendship healthy, Sebastian.
The only reason Ominis was even considering sending Sebastian to Azkaban was because his trust and goodwill for Sebastian had been slipping. Sebastian was so focused on saving Anne that he stopped putting effort into keeping Ominis’ trust in him high. It’s not enough to not be mad at Ominis for not supporting you, Sebastian, he needs to feel valued and heard.
But, at the same time, it wasn’t like Sebastian could spare the energy to be a good friend, not while going mad over trying to save his sister, so, it’s the kinda thing where nobody’s really the asshole, the situation just sucks. Poor quality of life, suffering, fear, pain robs people of the ability to extend grace and empathy towards others, and none of these kids were in a good mental state. Ominis was fighting anxiety and C-PTSD, Sebastian was fighting depression and Anne was suffering from chronic pain.
And though I hate Solomon, I will admit that he was probably suffering from veteran PTSD, was saddled with two kids he never wanted and one of them is dying while the other reminds him of his beef with his brother. Though, I would still call Solomon the asshole in this situation, purely because the goddamn adult should be the one with the most self-control not the least! Fucking hell mate, flying into a rage and trying to kill your kids probably gets you the award for the shittiest abusive guardian in the Potterverse, and that's saying something.
Like, Solomon not being able to control himself is understandable, veteran PTSD is not something to scoff at. But that's where being the adult comes in. As an adult, he should know himself better than a bunch of kids, and if you know you're mentally unfit to care for children, don't take them in then! Or if you have no choice but to take them in, suck it up and pay someone else to care for the kids, get therapy, talk to someone, ask other parents for advice and assistance.
But nooooo, this proud arrogant motherfucker goes, “I know what's best for Anne - and Sebastian.” Doesn’t sound like he asked anyone for help.
So, yeah, I get that Anne didn't want to fight with Sebastian, and it's a horrible position to be in for all three kids, but it doesn't change the fact that that kind of reluctance to communicate is where everything falls apart. I say all this not to point blame, but to point out what we - in the real world - can learn from the mistakes of these characters, and to prevent tragedies like Sebastian's questline from happening in reality.
The best real life example of the necessity of stating boundaries is a BDSM joke my partner loves to tell: If you say you're up for any kink without stating any boundaries, you'd better be ready to lose some limbs if you end up with someone who is into amputees, and you can't blame them when you do xD
Next, regarding the branding, love has a contradictory element of needing to be honest and yet naturally/instinctively wanting to shield your loved one from pain (including the pain that your honestly can cause) and I think it's the main reason that relationships so easily fall into bad habits. It's a careful balance to tight-rope walk and I think Sebastian's idea of the brand is a good way to balance it, because it's an way to alleviate Ominis' pain without Sebastian suppressing his own pain. Which would make Sebastian feel less guilty for (and less reluctant to) air his thoughts or go into the necessary rest he needs to heal.
Both partners should do what the other needs, Ominis listens to Sebastian because Sebastian needs it. And Sebastian lets Ominis brand him because it's what Ominis needs. Different needs require different approaches.
That's also the reason I have Sebastian reject Ominis’ offer to endure the pain necessary to get the brand on himself too, is because needs are not equal. Everyone has different needs and relationships don't have to be ‘equal’; in that both parties give/take the exact same things. It's good to offer to return the favour to prevent unfairness, but if your partner is willing and happy to take on a type of pain for you, and they don't want the same thing back, you don't need to feel guilty or like you must give back in the exact same way, it's enough for you to give them what they need.
Trust me, it's a lot more touching and feels amazing for your partner/parent/friend/boss/colleague/whatever to receive what they need, rather than just giving back exactly what you received. So, figure out what they want and need, and then customise your efforts to the people in your life and you'll make them very happy.
Anyway, with all that out of the way, I'll close out my final notes with one last message.
At the start of this story, Ominis tries to gain power, influence, and control to protect Sebastian. At the end, he finds that none of that was really needed. All he ever had to do was accept Sebastian the way he was, offer Sebastian his unconditional love and support, and accept the help of others to support Sebastian.
Heavy is the crown, if you carry it only with power and force, instead of love.
(And by 'crown', I mean responsibility for/over other people. Just- in case that needs saying x'D)
Ominis fought to control his expression, to keep his hands from trembling. Five years. Five years since he'd seen his parents, and this. This was the reason they'd given him the honour of their time? This was the reason they'd sought him out at Hogwarts?
The bitterness welling up within him was thick enough to gag on.
New year, new allies, new responsibilities, new avenues of revenue, and new aspects of their own Ancient Magic to explore. As the Keeper and their partners enter their last year at Hogwarts, it remains to be seen if the new school year will bring with it new problems or adversaries, but they are confident in the strength of their relationship with Sebastian and Ominis. The three of them would endure, no matter what befell them.
And if they were wrong?
What a joke, they would suffer no alternative.
Warnings: Sebastian x MC x Ominis! Drug Addiction! Spoilers! Slow-burn corruption! Dark content! Fucked up 1800s orphanages! MC has no love for Anne or Solomon! Dubious happy ending (it's happy for MC, Seb and Ominis at least).
You can also read on AO3! (chapter specific warnings below)
Notes:
Warnings: Torture, mentions of past sexual assault.
God, I am so tired, I'm seriously considering dropping my upload schedule and just posting when I have a chapter ready, because meeting this deadline was painful. But at the same time, I know that’s because this and last chapter’s notes required like its own chapter’s worth of thought and writing, and next chapter will be less heavy and back to moving the plot along-
And I shouldn't have started uploading a second fic at this timing lol, that was some terrible planning right there. I really didn't think the notes for that one would end up being so much work too.
Speaking of a second fic, if ya'll interested, I have been uploading a second fic, Heavy Is The Crown! It's Ominis/Sebastian, a what-if the Keeper wasn't MC, where that MC fucked off and did their own thing and Sebastian got super depressed without their support and Ominis just went off the rails in an attempt to keep Sebastian Sebastian. If you're interested in some dark ass porn with a happy ending (because I only write happy endings), feel free to hop over there haha
Oh that reminds me, remember how I said this chapter’s notes wouldn’t be as long as last? Well, I seem to have lied... oops, I swear I didn't mean to- x’D
Edit: Forgot to add that I'll be skipping an upload again, I've got painful new year family reunion stuff to deal with OTL so the next chapter will be in 4 weeks!
FYI, some less common terminology that I use in this chapter;
The term “guttersnipe” was a slur used to refer to homeless children who lived or spent a lot of time in the streets, scavenging in gutters for sustenance.
And a “constitutional” was a posh way of referring to a walk or stroll for health.
The terms “guv” or “guv'nor” are short for “governor” and were slangs used to refer to a superior or someone higher than oneself in the hierarchy, kind of like “boss”.
Oh, and a reminder that “bobby” was a slang for police.
There was a faint click as the Keeper snapped a silver collar shut around the neck of one Frederick Taylor. His unconscious form sprawled out on a thin mattress in the third cell of Dìon's dungeons, chained by his wrists and ankles to the cot's metal frame.
Slipping a finger under Borgok's goblin silver collar, the Keeper tugged on it just once, confirming that it was loose enough to breathe while remaining secure, before straightening.
“Here you go.” Sebastian grinned, offering them an open jar of E-Pain energy.
Giving him a fond nod of thanks, the Keeper slipped their wand into the opening of the jar and withdrew the tiniest sliver of energy. Sebastian had always seemed oddly enthusiastic about helping them with their work. Even back when they were exploring together in fifth-year, and - aside from that one time he'd gotten impatient - it'd only become stronger as time passed.
They did wonder from time to time what Sebastian got out of being their faithful assistant, but it was cute enough that they didn't see the need to question it too much. Setting such thoughts aside, the Keeper cautiously lowered the small bubble of energy onto the band of silver and with a hiss the red smoke fizzled, melding into the metal and turning it bright red.
Before they could do anything else however, there was another faint click, and the Keeper leaned backwards in surprise, when the man let out a shriek and jolted awake, his eyes snapping wide open and his body going shock stiff. The Keeper observed with intrigue, the red that glowed in his pupils for a brief moment, before fading as he went limp, trembling on the mattress while sweat beaded on his brow.
“Well, a very good morning to you, Mr. Taylor.” The Keeper gave him a sardonic smirk. “Would you mind telling me what you're feeling?”
They could hear Sebastian snickering behind them, and Frederick's wide eyes darted about, his chest heaving for breath, and the collar around his neck - once again - empty and silver.
“Who- wher-” He gasped out, trying to move and, realising that his limbs were chained down, immediately began struggling against them.
“Your wife placed a bounty on your head, Mr. Taylor.” The Keeper explained, watching impassively as he froze, staring at them in shock. “I accepted the job and as such, you are now at my mercy.”
The man stared silently for several minutes, and they started to wonder if he was too hung over to think. See, that's why the Keeper never let their ol’ gov'nor push them into drinking alcohol. That shit was too unpredictable, and they'd never felt safe enough to try something that could potentially cost them their self-control.
Rather abruptly however, Frederick's face contorted with fury, and he practically launched himself from the cot, or at least attempted to, serving only to jostle the mattress and rattle his chains.
“I knew she still had money from her parents!” Frederick seethed, his face red with anger. “Fucking lying cunt!”
Sebastian and the Keeper both stared at him incredulously as he cursed and swore up a storm. Really? That was what the man was focused on?
Becoming irritated - when it didn't seem like he intended to stop anytime soon - the Keeper slapped him soundly across the face, glaring down at the pathetic man imperiously. “You seem to be under some misconceptions. Mrs. Taylor only offered me a percentage of your assets - as well as your person - in payment.”
To their surprise, the man glared back at them, his eyes crazed. “You really believe she can't afford to pay you? Didn't know mercenaries took charity jobs.”
“I'll sooner believe the woman offering me money than the man who beat his wife and killed his elf.” The Keeper scoffed.
Though, they supposed he did have a point, could they really say they were abiding by Ominis’ wish, for them to avoid targeting innocents, if they didn't verify guilt? A contractor could say anything after all. Perhaps they should do something more next time. This man, on the other hand, was already as good as convicted of the crime of abusing and murdering his elf.
“Elf? I didn't- it's- Tobbs is dead?” Frederick stared at them in disbelief and the Keeper sneered, he wasn't even denying the first allegation.
They ground their teeth together in anger. “You left your elf without supplies in a cave infested with spiders, what the fuck did you think was going to happen!?”
The Keeper's hand twitched with the itch to drive their Fear-coated dagger into his thigh, but they restrained themselves, it wouldn't do to put him into a coma before they'd run a few tests with the collar first.
“How’s it my fault if the elf died in there!?” The man spluttered. “Thought it could handle a few bugs. Them house elves are so damn powerful, and what do you care? The thing was my property, it's my business what I do with my elf and my bitch wife.”
Their vision went red, that indifference, irresponsibility, the fucking apathy.
Not my problem, I just hand out the rations, kid.
Don't bother me, I'm on break. Bein’ a bobby ain't easy, urchin. Now scram.
It's your own fault for fighting. Just give them what they want.
God only punishes the sinful, child. Think about what you might have done to deserve this, then pray for forgiveness and accept your punishment with humility.
Just because it doesn't hurt you. Lazy, callous, haughty ignorance that sealed the fate of those beneath these scum. Did the man think elves could cast magic when they were starving to death? No, he just didn't think, didn't care enough to think further than his own convenience.
Wilful stupidity was truly sickening. Letting one think themselves unburdened by the guilt and accountability of all the evil their very ignorance brought about and allowed to propagate. Turning away from the domino effects of their actions and inaction.
Ignorance is bliss only for the ignorant. It's hell for everyone else.
Pushing the problem to someone else over and over, and who gets left carrying the bag? The ones at the bottom of the rung, those whose only sin was being born there, those who did nothing but their best, and got nothing but hate and disregard. Close your eyes, look away, bury your head in the sand, but the problem remains, the suffering remains, and it just keeps getting passed on, growing larger and larger each time.
There's always someone further down the rung. Always someone to inherit all the pain and anger. All the injustice and cruelty.
High-minded filth, it burned within the Keeper's clenched fists, the near endless rage that only grew every time they had been kicked aside by people who could have helped them. Hollow eyes filled with disgust and mockery, looking at the Keeper like all the street children were beneath them.
Die. Every last one of you.
Sebastian's eyes widened when the Keeper went from standing stiffly by Frederick's cot, to strangling the life out of him within a split second. He was frozen for a moment in surprise, but at the man's choked gurgles, he moved forward to grasp their shoulder.
“Love, you know if you kill him we won't be able to run Ominis’ tests, right?” Sebastian chuckled nervously, freezing when he got a good look at their face under the dim light.
Their pupils had dilated into pinpricks, an almost rabid variant of enraged insanity that he'd never seen before, no joy, no distance, he didn't think they'd even heard him.
He'd seen them grinning wildly as they slaughtered Ashwinders, had seen their greedy and almost child-like delight when experimenting, their panic when they'd lost control of their magic, and their ecstasy when taking Pain energy or when he brought them pleasure. He'd seen their broken and lonely grief when the Hebridean Black died, he'd seen their cold analytical gaze, and even sadistic playfulness.
He'd seen so many sides of them, had so many different reactions to them, from arousal to pain to amusement.
Now, Sebastian felt something new prickling in his chest, fear.
There’d always been a sense about the Keeper, like they were somehow removed from everything that happened around them. Like they were watching the world play out before them with impassive interest, and he’d found that fascinating. Whatever they were experiencing now, however, was something visceral and almost familiar.
He wasn’t sure why, but the memory of casting the killing curse on his uncle flashed through his mind. He felt like what they were feeling was hurting them just as much as they were hurting Frederick right now, and - for the first time - Sebastian felt like that anger was standing between him and the Keeper, like a wall.
“Hey, love, you need to stop.” Sebastian reiterated, pulling at them and trying to pry their fingers from around the man's neck.
Now their attention finally turned to him, and for a brief second, he felt that fear spike when the anger in their eyes was also turned on him. His hands lost their grip on the Keeper’s, before something far more unexpected happened, pain bloomed on his cheek and the sound of impact rang in his ears, his vision abruptly turned to the side.
It took a few seconds of stunned silence for him to realise what had even happened, touching a hand to his cheek in disbelief, they'd just backhanded him.
His eyes flickered to the Keeper’s face and their horrified expression. He took an instinctive step backwards and they immediately flinched, before reaching out to him.
“S- Sebastian, I- I'm sorry, I didn't- I wasn't-” Their uncharacteristic stammer, the tremor in their voice, and their cold fingers brushing lightly against his hot cheek, snapped him out of his shock.
“It- it's okay.” Sebastian shook his head, taking their hand slowly. “I mean, we're even now.”
He chuckled weakly, thinking of the time he'd attacked them in the Undercroft when he was furious about Poppy and when he'd lashed out at them verbally on the mountain. They might not have blamed him for those incidents of him hurting them, but it didn't change the fact that he had.
He left their cold hand to rest on his cheek, and wrapped his arms around their waist, holding them close, listening to their shaky breaths by his ear. He knew better than most how easy it was to lose control when emotions are running high. To take an action that feels right in the moment, only to wish you could take it back when all was said and done.
The Keeper shook their head, trying to make sense of what just happened, they'd hit him. Sebastian. They'd hit Sebastian. How did that even happen-
They'd just- what was he thinking? Trying to stop them when they were this angry. No, it wasn't his fault. They'd lost control in front of him, of course he'd try to stop them. This was Sebastian, the bravest idiot they'd ever known. They couldn't blame him for their own loss of discipline.
They clutched at him, fingers clenching tight in the cloth on his back, burying their face in his shoulder. “I'm sorry... I didn't mean to hurt you, I just- I was so angry-”
“I know. You were just trying to shake my hand off.” Sebastian's voice was soft and warm, understanding and gentle in their ear, and the Keeper took a deep breath, letting his steady presence calm their nerves.
There was relief mingled in the mess of feelings clogging up their brain, relief that Sebastian wasn’t angry or blaming them, gratitude that he was offering them comfort and support while they came to terms with what had happened. The deafening heartbeat pounding in their ears gradually quietening in his embrace.
To their immense irritation however, the coughing and choking man on the cot chose this moment to splutter. “W- what? Not gonna- not gonna finish the job? Fuckin’ psycho.”
The Keeper wondered to themselves if the man just had no survival instinct or if his brain had stopped working with a combination of alcohol and oxygen deprivation, but his next words gave them pause.
“Do it. Kill me, not like I have anything left. Fucking muggle bastards were right, guttersnipe like me have no future.” His mutterings were bitter and resigned. “If they hadn't died... if I'd been born to richer folk, or rich magical parents, I'd never have married that bitch, I'd have had everything I wanted, I'd have been happy, I wouldn't have ended up here...”
The Keeper stiffened at his words, a distant memory that they'd long buried surfacing in their mind. Spitting into the face of the man who would spend the next five years fucking their throat, using them and whoring them out to his lackies, screaming their defiance at fate.
...there's no difference! No difference between us! If I had what you have-
So, you think you'd do as well as me if you had my wealth, my power? Think you'd never need to beg again?
Better. I'd do better.
Very well, let's play a little game then, pretty bird...
They squeezed their eyes closed, pressing their face harder against Sebastian's shoulder, taking a deep breath of his scent, trying desperately to force the rest of that memory away, the disgust and fear they'd felt then. Icy phantom hands on their body, prying their thighs apart, touching places that made them want to vomit.
“Crucio.” Sebastian's voice was now hard and cold, rumbling from his chest under their ear, and the sound of Frederick screaming was soothing to their agitated heart.
They were safe now, they were powerful now, they had Sebastian and Ominis. The Keeper's skin prickled, they wanted to have Sebastian's warm hands on their body, wanted his nails to scrape away the lingering itch on their knees and thighs. Wanted to taste Ominis on their tongue again, wanted to vomit till their stomach was empty and fill themselves with Ominis and Sebastian instead.
The Keeper shook their head as the screams eventually ceased, struggling to suppress their thoughts. This wasn't the time for that, they'd come down here with a task. There was only a week of the Christmas holidays left, and they needed to focus if they wanted to reassure Ominis before school started again.
They loosened their grip on Sebastian, leaning back while he peered at their face with concerned eyes, and the Keeper sighed, giving him a soft kiss. “I'm alright now, thank you.”
“You sure?” He asked, brushing a hand over their hair gently and they could feel that touch in their heart.
With a strained smile, the Keeper nodded. “I just- he brought back some bad memories.”
“Do you... want to talk about it?” Sebastian asked tentatively, shifting on the spot with an adorable awkwardness.
They chuckled fondly, comforted to see that nothing had changed. “Maybe later. For now… I should probably get back to work.”
The Keeper pulled out a wiggenweld and offered it to Sebastian, who gave them a bemused grin that clearly said, ‘really? Me first? The one who got an accidental smack, not the guy you strangled and I then subsequently crucio-ed’.
Shrugging, the Keeper gave him a smirk, which got them a soft huff and an eye roll, before he took the vial and raised it to his lips while they turned their attention back to Frederick. It was... surprising that the man was perhaps not the well-off fucker that they'd expected.
A part of them was deeply unsettled to find that the pathetic creature lying on that cot was like them, that someone who'd survived coming from the streets could become exactly like the people who'd oppressed them. It challenged their belief that only those who had not suffered like they had, could be so unconscious, so uncaring of the suffering of others.
They'd thought it was their suffering that separated them from the other entitled spoiled children that ran about Hogwarts. That their roots were the source of the rift between them and the people who didn't understand how fortunate they were, but perhaps not.
This man had the same understanding of the world that the Keeper had, that one's birth and circumstances dictated their lives, yet it didn't make him more aware of the suffering of those beneath him. He hadn't learnt the same lessons they had.
What was different? They wondered. Being admitted to Hogwarts at eleven instead of fifteen? Was that enough to change his trajectory so vastly? The Keeper knew they couldn't take full credit for all their achievements, a lot of them were only achievable thanks to their fortune and the power they'd been born with.
They did however, take pride in their efforts to make the most of the opportunities they'd been given, all the hard work and constant struggle to become stronger, smarter, and wiser. Sebastian had shown that same dedication to personal growth, as had Ominis even in spite of his fear of change. Perhaps for reasons unknowable to them, Frederick simply hadn't and thus never came to this realisation.
The Keeper shook their head, whatever the case, these were questions they would never get an answer to. The man had essentially murdered Tobbs, beaten his wife and left his child to be torn apart by a wolf. With that track record, leaving a man like him to his own devices would likely result in yet more harm, but it didn't matter how he'd ended up here. Not to them at least, not anymore.
Regardless of the path he'd been placed upon, Frederick had ended up in their way thanks to his mistakes and, unfortunately for him, those mistakes made him someone they could use, without hurting Ominis. The Keeper needed a test subject to protect their interests and unlike Fredrick, they weren't going to blame anyone else for what they were about to do.
This had nothing to do with justice or righteousness or moral high ground, nor because he deserved this fate, he was simply going to suffer and die for their future.
For the future that they needed, and anyone else in their way would suffer the same fate.
That was all anyone could do.
Taking a deep breath, the Keeper set aside their thoughts and musings, taking the half-empty vial that Sebastian returned to them and carrying it over to Frederick.
“Unfortunately for you, you're no good to me dead. Open your mouth.” The Keeper ordered the wary man lying on the cot and when he made no move to follow their instruction, they narrowed their eyes sharply. “This is either going down your throat or your windpipe. Choose.”
Taking their warning seriously, the man opened his mouth, and they dumped the remaining wiggenweld into it unceremoniously, before setting aside the empty vial and picking the jar of E-Pain energy up again.
The collar had activated and injected the Pain immediately last time, even though they hadn't pressed anything or cast any spell. What had activated it? The Keeper frowned as they extracted another tiny bulb of energy with their wand, before setting the jar down and grabbing Frederick by the hair to hold him in place, while they refilled the collar.
Once again, however, the collar immediately injected all its E-Pain till it was depleted.
They ground their teeth in frustration, what were they doing wrong? They'd even gone with E-Pain rather than any other variants, so that it would be as close to what Ranrok had worked with as possible. There also didn't seem to be any change in the collar once energy was added, how did Ranrok tell the collar not to inject? Or when to inject?
The Keeper continued trying three more times, with varying amounts of energy, but the results remained the same. Each time, the collar immediately injected every drop of energy bound within it, and every time, it caused Frederick visible amounts of pain.
“Argh!” The Keeper kicked one of the cot's legs in frustration. “Why does it keep releasing immediately?”
“How about we take a break for now? We can have tea with Ominis and try again after we're refreshed.”
The Keeper didn't need to look to tell that Sebastian's expression was concerned, and while they itched to snap that they were fine, they knew it wasn't true. They were still on edge after what happened and they would be the biggest hypocrite if they told Ominis to get some sleep to refresh himself three days ago, and didn't follow their own advice.
Taking a breath and forcing down their pride, the Keeper swallowed and turned to give him a stiff nod. “You're right. We can come back after tea.”
Sebastian gave them a hopeful smile and held up their satchel for them to drop the jar into. With a grateful nod, the Keeper took their satchel and led the way out of the cell towards the staircase. They could leave Frederick chained to the cot for now, since they would be coming back in just an hour or so.
Still, it was hard to imagine that a break would help, this was the first time they'd absolutely no leads whatsoever and it was indescribably frustrating.
As they climbed the stairwell, the sound of Sebastian's footsteps came to a halt behind them, and the Keeper stopped as well. “Sebastian? Is something wrong?”
His expression was troubled. “What that man said earlier. Am I doing the same thing?”
“What do you mean?”
“He blamed his wife, his parents, for the mistakes he's made. He blamed his elf for not protesting his own negligence.” Sebastian's expression became pained. “I-”
He sat down on a step and the Keeper slowly lowered themselves to sit beside him, brows furrowed in concern.
“I've been having this thought.” Sebastian whispered, like a confession. “That I wish Anne had told me that she didn't want me to save her at all costs. Am I doing the same thing? Blaming a victim for not telling me that she didn't approve of what I was doing? Should I have pressed harder till she told me the truth, was I the negligent one? Should I have stopped?”
“No.” The Keeper shook their head. “I highly doubt Frederick's wife encouraged him to hit her, in contrast, Anne acted like she wanted to be cured. I was there, I saw how excited and hopeful she was when you brought her a Shrivelfig. I heard her agree to the ritual, even after you told her it required a dark sacrifice. It's not your fault you believed what she was showing and saying.”
Sebastian watched them silently, and they took his hand. “She told me that she knew you meant well, she just didn't believe that it was possible to break the curse, she believed Solomon. That's why Anne felt your actions were not worth the risk, it's not your fault she agreed with Solomon. We'll show her that it's possible and I'm sure it'll change her mind.”
His eyes were starting to regain some of their brightness, and the Keeper placed a soft kiss on his forehead. “You're nothing like that pathetic man. Anne changed her mind and didn't explain herself to you or give you the chance to change course. It's perfectly reasonable for you to wish she had been honest with you.”
They still remembered the look on Anne's face when Sebastian killed the goblin with Imperio to save her life. That was probably the point when her view of him had started to change. That look of fear, like she didn't know him. She'd stopped trusting him, and for what? Saving her life in a societally unacceptable way?
How was what Sebastian did any different from killing the goblin with a blade? Or Solomon, who was also killing the attacking goblins - just with legal spells - or the villagers who used cabbages to do the same? It wasn't like Sebastian had been violent towards her like Frederick had his wife.
Anne never even tried to talk about her misgivings with Sebastian or Ominis or even the Keeper themselves, if she was worried about Sebastian, she could've said something. There were so many things Anne could have done besides simply agreeing to the ritual when Sebastian told her about it. Though, they knew why she hadn't, because deep down, she did want to be cured. Of course, who wouldn't?
Even so, if you say and do one thing, but mean another, you can't blame the other person for failing to read your mind and figure out what you really mean. If you don't state your boundaries and limits clearly, you don't get to be righteously furious when someone steps over them.
It wasn't her fault for being torn, but it was on her for not communicating her feelings and boundaries to Sebastian.
“Thanks, I think I've been needing to hear that for a while.” Sebastian sighed, giving them a grateful smile. “You're right, as usual. And it's not like I didn't try other things. I mean, I am fascinated by Dark Magic, but I did try everything else I could think of. I know the healers know more healing magic than I could ever know, so I was looking at every unconventional method I could find.”
“Yeah, you begged me to use my Ancient Magic when that seemed like a feasible solution.” In a way that had shown how much he believed in them too, the Keeper returned his smile fondly, a pang of sadness in their heart… and how little he thought anyone could care about him.
Please. If not for me, then for Anne.
The Keeper had wanted to laugh in disbelief, silly boy, they had far less reason to risk antagonising the Elder Keepers for Anne, than they did Sebastian himself. He had done so much for them already by then, it was so sad that Sebastian didn't think his earnestness and effort would inspire any sort of reciprocation from them.
That Anne would somehow be favoured by them purely for... what? Being a girl? For looking weak and pitiful? For dying from a curse? There were so many innocent children dying on the streets every day. If the world worked that way, there would be far less suffering than there was.
The Keeper wondered if Sebastian had expected that because his uncle favoured her for reasons he couldn’t understand. They kind of wanted to ask, but...
“Speaking of Ancient Magic, why not try using it on the collar? Or maybe try using Frederick's own pain to fill his collar?” Sebastian asked, his eyes sliding off to the side, and the Keeper understood that he was trying to change the subject.
Well, that was fine, Sebastian was the type to think further on his own over time, the Keeper gave him a small smile but shook their head. “Ranrok didn't have Ancient Magic, nor any means to extract E-Pain, so that's unlikely to be the solution. Though it's certainly a brilliant idea to try using his own E-Pain, I'll do that when I figure out how the collar works. Good thinking.”
Face brightening at the praise, Sebastian got to his feet and offered them a hand. “Let's talk about this with Ominis then, he might have some ideas too.”
The Keeper nodded and took his hand, letting him pull them up, and the two went together to find their pretty boyfriend.
It took a while, but they eventually found Ominis in the first-floor library.
The Keeper poked their head through the wooden doors, spotting the blond standing by the northern wall, through the hollow rows of yet empty bookshelves. Before they could even call out, Sebastian flew past them - and the shelves - tackling Ominis with a big bear hug, while the Keeper followed at a more sedate pace.
“I was starting to wonder if I would be having tea alone today.” Ominis gave an exasperated chuckle as Sebastian peppered his face with happy kisses.
“You can thank Sebastian for dragging my arse up here.” The Keeper gave him a fond grin, before looking up at the portrait that Ominis had been mounting on the wall. “This is a good spot. Good afternoon, Professor Fig.”
“It's very nice to see you again, my young friend.” The elderly man in the painting smiled down at the Keeper with familiar warm eyes, and they felt a twinge of pain in their chest at the sight. “I'm told that you were with me in my last moments, I'm very sorry that you have to carry that.”
“It's been difficult, and I'll admit to having missed you more than I expected.” The Keeper shrugged and was rather happy to see that the portrait - bearing Fig's memories - understood their brand of affectionate humour too.
Fig beamed proudly, and clasped his hands together with that boyish enthusiasm that often had them forgetting that he was almost a century older than them. “I'll never be a replacement, but I'll do my best to give you the support he would have.”
The Keeper gave him a grateful nod. “How far back do your memories go?”
“Just after you went to subdue the Lord of the Shore.” The portrait answered with a playful glimmer in his eyes. “I stopped by my portrait for the last time, before going to meet you in the map chamber.”
“Alright, I'll extract my memories of you - past that point - and stop by later to give them to you.” The Keeper nodded.
“Excellent, I appreciate you giving my secondary frame a wonderful view of the sunrise, and I look forward to hearing how your adventure with the Graphorn unfolded!” Fig bounced in his portrait with palpable excitement and the Keeper could feel the empty place in their heart finally begin to ache a little less.
If only they could have a portrait of Lodgok too, but no witch or wizard would paint a goblin, and once more, they cursed the senseless bigotry against goblinkind.
“You subdued a graphorn!?” Ominis exclaimed in disbelief, his eyes filled with alarm.
The Keeper chuckled, reminded that the boys were still present and observing the interaction with interest. “Yes, I still have the Lord of the Shore in my vivarium back in Hogwarts’ room of requirement.”
“You own a graphorn!?” Sebastian exclaimed in amazement, his eyes wide with excitement.
The Keeper laughed and patted Sebastian on the head. “You'll get to see him when our vivariums are ready for me to move them into. Wait till you see my phoenix.”
“A phoenix... that's incredible. How did you find something so rare?” Ominis murmured and the Keeper was rather relieved that he wasn't kicking up a fuss about the graphorn. Maybe he thought they'd managed to win it over without a fight, and they certainly weren't going to correct him, unless he asked directly.
“There were poachers after it and Deek asked me to rescue it.” The Keeper answered simply with a shrug.
“Ugh, wish we could visit the legendary Room of Requirement to see what it looks like.” Sebastian grumbled, dropping his chin on Ominis’ shoulder.
“Maybe closer to our graduation, when Professor Weasley isn't as much of a concern.” The Keeper grinned wryly, and Sebastian glanced at the portrait with some uncertainty, but to his apparent surprise, Fig didn't seem disapproving of their words, in fact...
“A wise choice!” The portrait of Fig laughed. “And I am certain she won't mind you sharing the secret before you graduate, it'll be your last chance to see the wonders of Hogwarts. And, strict as she may be, Professor Weasley understands what the school means to many of its students.”
“I'll take your word for it, sir.” The Keeper chuckled and before they could speak further, Sebastian's stomach made a soft sound. Giving him an amused smile, they pressed a kiss to his pink cheek. “Shall we head to tea then?”
“It certainly sounds like we should.” Ominis giggled, drawing a pout from Sebastian for their amusement at his expense, before Ominis pressed his palms together, beaming happily. “Oh, and Tibsy said she made cheesecake for tea today, the milk finally finished ageing.”
Wearing an eager grin, Sebastian made no protest as the blond took his hand and pulled him towards the stairs. The Keeper was about to follow, when the portrait spoke again.
“I see that you've become very close to Mr Gaunt and Mr Sallow.” Fig smiled softly. “I'm glad that you've found people to love.”
“I-” The Keeper paused, swallowing around the thickness in their throat, thinking of what they'd done only a while ago in Frederick's cell. “I'm- I thought... I thought I knew what that meant. But I'm not sure I do. I'll admit that I’m becoming scared. I have so much power. I'm not sure I'm the right person to wield it. I'm not sure I won't accidentally hurt those I love.”
The professor's eyes were sad and sympathetic. “You can never really know if you'll hurt others in the pursuit of your goals, no matter how well intentioned. My dearest Miriam didn't intend to leave me, but she was only human, and we all make mistakes. I cannot tell you how deeply I wish I'd stopped her.”
They closed their eyes, they'd hurt Ominis this way too. Even Sebastian both had and had been.
Fig smiled. “But I say that only with the knowledge that she would not come home. I know, deep down, that I never would have stopped her. While the result caused me grief, I do not begrudge her for chasing Ancient Magic, thinking only of the good it could do. I don't blame her for doing what she believed in, even if it ended up hurting me. I'm sure they feel the same way, as do you.”
The Keeper gazed into his eyes as the professor spoke. “Don't expect yourself to be perfect, it is not possible to be truly worthy of power, we can only try our best with the power that is given to us.”
Nodding slowly, the Keeper allowed his words to sink in and gave him a grateful smile. “Thank you for your advice. It’s good to have you back, Professor.”
“You are most welcome, my young friend.” The elderly portrait beamed brightly as the sound of footsteps returned.
“Rove? Yu comin’?” Sebastian called out, his mouth full of cheesecake as he poked his head back into the library, brown eyes peering curiously at them.
“I'll see you later then, Professor.” The Keeper gave Fig a nod of farewell and followed the brunet out of the library.
“...so, Sebastian suggested that we take a break, and we left to find you.” The Keeper took a sip of their tea, still feeling slightly uncomfortable after explaining what had happened in Fredrick’s cell, but at least it was over and done with. Though they'd left out Sebastian’s casting of the Cruciatus curse in their retelling.
“I swear, it barely hurt. I was more startled than anything else.” Sebastian insisted, before shoving the last bite of his cheesecake into his mouth, and the Keeper gave him a grateful smile.
“Well, I'm glad that you returned to your senses without anything worse occurring.” Ominis frowned with some concern. “It must have been a pretty awful memory he brought back.”
“...memories. He reminded me of the people who turned a blind eye to suffering. My suffering.” The Keeper sighed. “But I guess, I now see how easy it could have been, to turn out like him.”
“Well, you didn't. And that's what matters.” Ominis’ voice was firm, and the Keeper considered the likelihood that he often worried about such possibilities too. It was pretty high.
“Yeah, if you had, we probably wouldn't be here.” Sebastian nodded, leaning over to steal a bit of Ominis’ cheesecake with his fork, only for the blond to catch him by the wrist, his eyes narrow, and Sebastian retreated with a pout.
“I'm not sure if that's reassuring or not.” The Keeper chuckled.
“It should be, it means we wouldn't be interested in having anyone else in your spot.” Sebastian shrugged and took a drink of his tea.
“Guess I’ll have to work hard to keep you two invested.” The Keeper leaned back in their seat with a wry smile.
“Don't overdo it though, taking a break isn't the same as quitting.” Ominis had a knowing glint in his eyes as he said this, and Sebastian's face lit up, when Ominis cut the remainder of his cheesecake in half and held it up in his direction.
Watching with a fond smile, as Sebastian happily took the offered bite, the Keeper nodded. “I'll keep that in mind. Though, speaking of working hard, I plan to ask future contractors to provide evidence of guilt, memories perhaps. I didn't need to do so with Frederick, since I already know his crimes, but I won't necessarily for future jobs. I'll need to do my part to keep my promise.”
Ominis’ eyes widened with some surprise, before a pleased smile covered his face.
“I see, well, I very much appreciate the effort. And for my part, I've almost finished putting up the portraits.” The blond paused to pat Sebastian on the head. “Just left the three in the Keep and Anne's primary portrait, to be put up in your study.”
“I can do that later.” Sebastian nodded, his eyes slightly distant, perhaps thinking about his sister again.
“Thank you, for setting them up while Sebastian and I were occupied these last three days.” The Keeper leaned over to give Ominis a kiss on the cheek and the corners of his eyes crinkled happily at the gesture.
The Keeper and Sebastian had taken some time - before they'd gone to find the Rowdy Rogue - to walk the castle walls. Looking for the best places to put up portraits, that would facilitate quick communication and allow the portraits to perform some level of lookout capability. Then they'd left the actual placing to Ominis and gone about their work.
As per their order, the three commissioned artworks had arrived with three linked replicas each, allowing each portraits’ subjects to travel between three separate frames. It'd cost them a small fortune to afford three of each, for a total of nine portraits, but hopefully the surveillance they could provide would be worth the price.
They'd already visited Eleazar Fig's primary portrait in the first-floor Library, and his secondary was placed in the outer wall's Southeastern flanking tower, positioned so that he could survey their territory from a window.
The Keeper watched as Sebastian's gaze drifted to the portrait of his parents that hung just across the room, on the wall a few metres from the wash closet, in view of both the dinner table and the tea corner where the throuple were having their refreshments.
While the dining hall was still in dire need of decorating, they'd already outfitted the room with an elegant mahogany dinner table and eight high backed chairs. As well as a small round tea table with four little mid backed chairs - which they were seated at - flanked by another two armchairs, and a sofa, backed up against the wall that stood between the dining hall and the workshop.
The furniture was mostly mahogany with a blend of Slytherin colours bandied about, in honour of their Hogwarts house and they felt like the portrait gave it a more homely feel. The late Mr and Mrs Sallow shared their primary frame in this hall, while their secondary was placed in the outer wall's Eastern flanking tower, and the Keeper felt a pang of sympathy at the wistful glassiness in Sebastian's eyes as he gazed at them.
Honestly, the Keeper wasn't sure they'd feel anything if they ever found a portrait of the people who'd brought them into this world, but it was nice to imagine that they would. At the very least, they'd be grateful to have had the chance to honour the unknown couple for allowing the Keeper to meet Sebastian and Ominis.
The tertiary portraits of all the artworks they owned, would be placed in the Keep tower to the northwest, in the room where Anne's tertiary portrait would be keeping a lookout, while her primary portrait was in Sebastian's study and her secondary portrait was in Ominis’ study.
This would allow the Keep tower to serve as a communication centre, so that - should any of the portraits spot something suspicious in their direction - they could alert Anne, who could then bring the information to either boy's study, or pass the message to Fig if the Keeper or their partners were in the Library, or the Sallow couple if they were in the dining hall. Not to mention, if the portraits could get the attention of the elves, it would also make it easier to send the message to the Keeper.
While they still hadn't acquired Noctua Gaunt's portrait yet, once they did, her primary portrait would be placed in Ominis’ study, with her secondary portrait placed in the outer wall's Southwestern flanking tower, to cover what was currently a blind spot.
“Will the two of you be free after tea?” Ominis asked casually. “Since your latest job is done, I thought we might take an evening constitutional down to the lake and then perhaps warm up together by the fireplace before dinner.”
The Keeper grimaced, they hated to disappoint him, but. “Sorry, I'm not sure I can afford to, I thought to have a light dinner in the dungeons so I could continue working on the collar. We have but a week left before school reopens, and I think it's more urgent that I figure out how the collar works and what makes it different from the armlet. That we may test the effects of C-Pain overdose on Macnair and put your mind at ease.”
Ominis’ lips pursed into a thin line. “Have you got any leads?”
“Not really.” The Keeper sighed, rubbing the bridge of their nose to ease the headache that was already returning. “I still have no clue what triggers the collar to activate. It just keeps injecting all the E-Pain immediately.”
Ominis heaved his own sigh as well, frustrated that he hadn't gotten to spend as much time with his workaholic partners as he'd hoped to this holiday. They were always busy with something or another, and since they'd been taking Sebastian with them to work, he'd been left alone in the quiet castle with his thoughts and worries, more often than he'd like.
At the same time, he appreciated that they were putting in all this effort with him in mind, so he couldn’t exactly begrudge them for doing what he'd asked them to. He rather resented being put in this position. Honestly, how had he ended up living with two partners, yet almost never got to go on relaxing dates with them?
“Well, I doubt I'll have much more to contribute with regards to the collar. If my lonesome would be enough, I can take that walk with you, Ominis.” Sebastian suggested tentatively, clearly hoping to take some of the pressure off the Keeper.
Ominis’ eyes widened in surprise, he’d have thought Sebastian would rather experiment with the Keeper than take a boring walk with him, and he felt a pinch of shame for feeling bad for himself and merely whinging about the situation in his mind. He’d heard the apologetic tone in the Keeper’s voice, and it wasn’t like he had any reason to feel like they just couldn’t be bothered to spend time with him, they probably weren’t eager to have dinner in a dank dungeon cell either.
Though, he knew that if he said anything, his partners would assure him that it was understandable to feel frustrated about the situation, and then offer him the choice of having them spend the evening with him or continuing their work, and he wasn’t exactly eager to take on the responsibility if his selfishness delayed their tests past the holiday.
So, folding his arms, Ominis decided to think instead, of ways to get their work done faster, so they would be free to spend more time with him. What were they least likely to have tried already? He knew the Keeper was proud, and that both they and Sebastian suffered from the tendency to forget that prior wisdom could still be useful, even if circumstances weren’t always the same.
“Have you tried asking the Elder Keepers for assistance?” Ominis suggested after a moment. “Professor Rackham was Isidora's teacher, wasn't he? Perhaps he might be able to offer some insight.”
The Keeper hummed thoughtfully and Ominis continued. “Sebastian and I can take that walk to the lake together, before warming up by the bedroom fireplace, then perhaps you can join us for dinner at least?”
“Of course.” The Keeper nodded, seeing and appreciating that he was trying to compromise. “If I manage to make some progress with the Professors and get this done quickly, we can at least spend Christmas day together next week.”
To their relief, Ominis’ face brightened at their agreement. In all honesty, the Keeper didn't think Rackham would be of much assistance, it wasn't like he'd ever interacted with Pain energy himself. Though they supposed it was possible that Fitzgerald might have some ideas, since Isidora had been closer to her, but they were also reluctant to make the cautious elders aware of their intentions to use Pain energy as a means of controlling their test subjects.
That being said however, they weren't going to make the mistake of dismissing a suggestion from Ominis out of hand, again. Especially when they could see that they were already treading on thin ice with him.
They'd just have to think of a way to broach the problem with the Elder Keepers, perhaps it wasn't the worst time to start easing the portraits into accepting the direction they were headed...
The Keeper's steps were slow and thoughtful as they made their way through the second Basement floor, before stopping outside the room that they'd placed the Elder Keepers’ portraits in, just to the left of Sebastian's study.
Knocking twice, they opened the door and poked their head in. “Professors?”
The inside of the room was rather long and, on the slightly concave false wall, stood the four portraits, whose eyes tracked the Keeper as they entered the chamber.
“Well, it's a surprise to see you outside our classes at my secondary portrait, what can we do for you?” Professor Rackham greeted with a smile.
The Keeper blinked at the professor, now that he’d mentioned it, this was indeed the first time they'd sought his counsel rather than instruction, perhaps they'd be able to use that to their advantage.
“I have acquired an artefact that was made by Ranrok and I'm struggling to figure out how it works.” The Keeper answered, bowing their head respectfully. “I was hoping to seek your guidance and experience.”
“An artefact of Ranrok's!?” Rookwood exclaimed. “How come you by such a thing?”
“His uncle happens to be Sebastian's blacksmithing mentor.” The Keeper explained, they would keep the details vague for this one, the portraits didn't need to know that they'd committed murder to acquire it.
“A goblin instructing a wizard in smithing? What an unprecedented arrangement.” Fitzgerald murmured thoughtfully.
“And why is your lover cavorting with a relative of the goblin who sought to abuse the fruits of Isidora's crimes?” Bakar, of course, demanded.
“I think it should be obvious enough that Ranrok's uncle isn't like him, given that he's teaching a human goblin-craft.” The Keeper rolled their eyes, and, to his credit, Bakar seemed to concede the point with a tilt of his head. “He knows nothing of Pain energy, so you needn't be overly concerned.”
“But what is this artefact and what do you seek to do with it?” Rackham asked with a small frown, clearly more concerned about their intentions, which was reasonable.
“It is a device designed to forcefully inject Pain energy into a person, causing pain to its wearer. However, I've been unable to figure out how to control it.” The Keeper grimaced. “It keeps injecting all the energy I place in it immediately.”
The reactions were, as expected, varying levels of outrage and shock, and the Keeper simply endured the cacophony of exclamations until the portraits stopped speaking over each other.
“That sounds to me like you're already using it!” Rookwood's voice finally rose in clarity above the rest and the Keeper sighed.
“Look, you’ve already given me ample warning that I do not know the effects of consuming this energy, that I can't control it.” The Keeper shrugged. “And you're right. I don't know, and I can't control it till I do. So, I'm finding out.”
“At the expense of someone else!?” Rookwood exclaimed, aghast.
“Should I just risk my own corruption and death then?” The Keeper snapped and the portraits went rather abruptly silent. “Shall I stroll into the maw of the unknown and leave the Repository unguarded in a room in Hogwarts, just waiting for a child to wander across?”
As they spoke, Bakar's perpetually hostile and suspicious expression seemed to change, and the Keeper thought they saw a glimmer of what looked an awful lot like respect, beginning to form in his eyes. Which was ridiculous, of course, so they pushed the thought aside and continued.
“Your trials are all solved and beaten, and you are all here, buried in a fortress in the middle of nowhere. There is no path laid out for a future Ancient Mage. You've gambled everything on me.” The Keeper spread their arms wide with a sardonic smile. “Shall I die and take it all with me to the grave?”
The room was still and silent for many long moments, as the corner the Elders had been forced into, sank in.
“If it's any consolation, the man I'm testing it on is a murderer and a cheat. A man who regularly beat his wife and starved his elf, a thief and a drunkard.” The Keeper shrugged. “And the one who will experience an overdose in my place, is the bugger who spent a year trying to kill me.”
“Committing crimes doesn't mean they deserve torture and death.” Rookwood narrowed his eyes sternly at them. “You don't have the authority to judge.”
“And who does?” The Keeper cocked an eyebrow at him. “A well-paid court judge? The victim? Let's not pretend anyone truly has the right to cast judgement, I am merely choosing to sacrifice the lesser of two evils. Or in this case, the greater of two evils. Better to sacrifice someone further down the ladder to hell, than an innocent, no?”
“Nobody should be sacrificed at all!” Rookwood declared.
“Ah yes, nobodies like Richard Jackdaw and everyone else who might have stumbled into the trial grounds, right?” The Keeper sneered. “At least I pick my victims.”
“That- that wasn't- we were doing what was necessary!” Rookwood shook his head.
“Oh, I see, that makes it alright then.” The Keeper scoffed. “Well, I've decided that this is necessary too.”
“That's why you shouldn't meddle further in this to begin with! What's necessary keeps growing!” Rookwood slammed a fist on the side of his frame. “You need to stop. If this needs sacrifices, then find another way.”
“There isn't always another way. I think that they have a point here.” To everybody's surprise, it was Bakar who spoke next, his eyes regarding Rookwood with a solemn weight. “What has four hundred years of waiting gotten us? Sometimes, one must weigh the scales and choose who should be prioritised.”
The portraits stared at Bakar, the Keeper included, before it clicked in their mind.
Bakar had chosen to cast the killing curse on Isidora, despite knowing how deeply Rackham would grieve for the child he had practically raised. Despite the dishonour of killing her from behind, for a man so proud, that must have been a difficult decision. Yet Bakar had chosen to kill the woman that he too had taught as a child, a woman who was hurt and broken, to save his friends and the innocent children of Hogwarts.
The greater of two evils.
“Thank you, Professor Bakar.” The Keeper smiled.
The man narrowed his eyes at them and folded his arms. “Don't mistake me, I still remain unconvinced that you are not merely another power-hungry craven. I simply agree that it would be in everyone's best interests to keep you alive, to safeguard the Repository. For now.”
The Keeper snorted, well, they'd take it.
“Percival, please say something.” Rookwood turned to Rackham, his voice quite distressed, and in all honesty, the Keeper was surprised that it was the affable rotund man who was so resistant. Then again, Professor Rookwood was also the one who had been swayed by his guilt for his descendant's sin of cursing Anne. Emotions were always so fickle and unpredictable.
Rackham sighed. “I'm afraid I have to agree with San Bakar...”
“...Percival...” Rookwood murmured with a frown.
“We can't pretend we didn't make the same choice.” Rackham wore a bitter smile. “Just because we didn't swing the blade ourselves, doesn't mean we didn't kill young Mr Jackdaw.”
“We must protect the Repository from falling into the hands of someone we have no influence over, or allow it to corrupt innocent children.” Fitzgerald nodded slowly. “We cannot simply wish for reality to not be as it is, we made our choice, and we must do our best with our lot.”
“We can but trust that our friend here will constrain themselves to what is needed and no more.” Rackham eyed the Keeper expectantly. “And they have not yet given us reason to doubt them.”
“Yet.” Bakar added.
Rookwood sighed. “If that is the consensus, I will protest no further, but I don't like your attitude towards sacrifice, child.”
“I'm simply used to sacrifice. Should I cry for you? We both know it wouldn't change reality.” The Keeper huffed and folded their arms. “Are we done? Can we get back to the problem at hand?”
When there came no response, the Keeper fished out a collar from their satchel and dangled it from their fingers for the portraits to see. “As you can see, there aren't any buttons on it, there's just a needle on its inner side.”
“And you say it immediately injects any energy placed in it?” Rackham pinched his chin between a thumb and forefinger.
“Yes. I need to figure out how to control its output.” The Keeper nodded. “I thought you might have some insight into the workings of such magic.”
Rackham hummed. “All Magic is neutral. Like a rock that rolls down a hill, there is no intent, simply action and reaction. You've said that Pain energy seeks out a host.”
“That's what I've observed.” The Keeper nodded again. “It seems like Pain energy is drawn to itself, not unlike gravity's pull.”
“It could be that the energy is simply following its nature in absence of human will.” Fitzgerald murmured thoughtfully.
“Indeed, it is the will of a caster that gives magic purpose. We align magic with our will.” Rackham explained.
“But that's magic that comes from us.” The Keeper frowned in some confusion. “This is Pain, an emotion, a sensation, can it even have will?”
“Is not everything humans produce part of a cycle?” Rackham asked with a small smile. “We can't cast magic if we're too weak to do so. What gives us strength? Food, water, time consumed for rest. We convert resources from the world into magic within our bodies. Every magical creature does this, even goblins.”
“Well said, Professor, even emotion comes from us and can be directed, we channel our feelings into our work, after all.” Fitzgerald agreed.
The Keeper's eyes widened, the memory of Ranrok blasting red smoky energy from his palms flashing through their mind.
“...I see! I need to absorb the energy first, align it with my will and then pour it into the vessel! Thank you, Professors!” Shoving the collar back into their satchel, the Keeper sprinted from the room, excitement pumping through their veins.
They needed to test it out. Now.
“Sorry to make you wait, Frederick, I hope you didn't need to use the loo.” The Keeper grinned as they re-entered the cell. “It'd be annoying to have to clean your mattress if you should soil yourself.”
The man watched them warily as they stood beside the cot, and they gave him a wry smirk. “Don't worry, this will be quick. I have a dinner date to get to.”
They pulled out a jar of E-Pain and took a sliver of it, breathing it into their body and holding it, like one would hold their breath, their mind filled with a single instruction; Empty all energy into subject when he speaks.
Then they placed the tip of their wand at their lips and opened their mouth, blowing the smoke back out and collecting it with their wand. The bubble of red and black smoke still looked completely unchanged, and with a pinch of anxiety, the Keeper lowered it to the collar around Frederick's neck.
The man whimpered in fear, clearly expecting the pain that would come after it was filled, though, hopefully that wouldn't happen. The energy fizzled and bubbled as it melded into the collar, and for a long anticipatory moment, the Keeper watched Frederick, half expecting him to jolt in pain.
But it didn't happen.
“Yes!” The Keeper crowed with victory and Frederick flinched at the sudden shout. “It worked!”
“Wha-” He gasped in confusion, only for the collar to click and then he was choking on the word, thrashing and wheezing with pain as the collar emptied its meagre contents into his body.
The Keeper stumbled back with a giddy laugh, they'd have to take a few minutes later to suck Ominis off for suggesting that they ask the Elder Keepers for guidance. What an amazing way to be reminded that, just because he was often swayed by emotion and could be rather irrational, that didn't mean he couldn’t also be brilliant and still be correct. God, they loved the prissy blond.
They'd probably need to have Ominis scan their body as they filled the collar to be certain, but they didn't feel like they'd taken a hit either. A pity, but at least that meant that they wouldn't need to worry about messing up their dose schedule. Thank Merlin for that too, stepping down their dosage felt god awful.
Chuckling, the Keeper extracted a larger bulb of E-Pain - a little over twice the prior amount - gazing at it and wondering to themselves how they'd portion it out. Percentage? No, that would cause each violation of instructions to have a diminishing impact. Duration of effects? Ooh, that might work, the slivers seemed to last for about ten seconds, they could go with five seconds then.
Raising the bulb to their nose, they inhaled it, instructing the energy to; Inject five seconds worth of energy every time he lifts his leg. They then placed the energy - which should be good for four injections - into the collar, amused when the man flinched, trembling as they unlocked the cuff around his ankle.
“Lift your leg.” The Keeper instructed and for a moment the man hesitated, so they pointed their wand at him. “Lift it or you'll get to see how my Cruciatus compares with my boyfriend's.”
Flinching, Frederick lifted his foot off the mattress, and it promptly slammed right back down when the collar activated. One, two, three, four, fiv-
The man coughed and wheezed as his body went limp. Excellent, that worked. Next, the Keeper bodily grabbed the man's ankle and forcefully lifted it off the mattress. Immediately, the collar activated again. So, it also applied if someone else physically forced him to take the action, now, what about magical?
“Imperio.” The Keeper levelled their wand at Frederick and a dopey grin formed on his face.
Though mildly disturbed by the expression, they went ahead and instructed him to lift his leg. The collar promptly clicked, but curiously enough, it didn't seem to cause him any pain. The man simply continued to smile like a loon. Was it because the emotional pain was being blocked by the bliss that came from the Imperius curse? Fascinating. They would have to test it further to see if it would be different with P-Pain or C-Pain.
Breaking the curse, the Keeper withdrew the last dose from the collar and inhaled it once again, this time instructing it to immediately inject once placed. When they returned it to the collar, Fredrick immediately began thrashing again. So, they could alter the instructions too, perfect.
Still, if filling the collar required that one absorb the energy first and align it, how did Gnarlak continue using it to control the dragon? The collar would surely have run out of energy over the last three years, and they couldn’t see the paranoid goblin trusting anyone else to do it for him.
Unless...
“Hold your breath, your next will hurt.” The Keeper chuckled when Frederick quickly took a breath and held it, before they released a small amount of aligned energy into the collar, instructing it to inject its entire payload if Frederick breathed.
Then they took another small bulb from the jar and lowered it into the collar as well. Several more seconds passed, before Frederick finally ran out of air and couldn't help but take a breath, and was promptly injected by the collar.
The Keeper watched with delight as the collar emptied itself in its entirety. So, mixing aligned energy with neutral energy did - in fact - cause all the neutral energy to become aligned and adopt the same orders. That was convenient, that would make it easy to top up the collars when they were running low.
Checking the time with a quick tempus, the Keeper closed the jar and shoved it back into their satchel. Waving their wand at the cuffs, they released Frederick and left him to curl up on his cot, shivering as they left the cell with a spring in their step.
If they hurried, they might be able to join the boys while the two were still warming up, and give Ominis that thank you blowjob.
Notes:
Trivial notes first;
The reason I made the Imperius curse nullify injected E-Pain is because the Imperius curse is capable of making someone even commit suicide, ignoring the pain that no doubt should be happening. It also seems like it's not any negative impact on a person that allows someone to fight it off, Harry for example, seemed to do so because he’s the main character. Honestly, Imperio is one of the most annoying spells in a world building sense (right after the Avada), like, it's supposed to be something you can gain a resistance to, and I know some people think it’s because Harry felt the bliss unnatural because he was abused, but um, then Ominis and like, a lot of people would be immune. And it can make you do superhuman things with unknown limits, it's just a real headache to work with as a writer unless you're just using it as a cheap convenient plot twister.
Also, I’m trying to use hyphens more in my writing, not sure if it’s good though, what do you guys think? Is it good, or should I just stick to tons of commas?
Okay, that's the trivial notes done, on to the serious ones!
I hope the parallel between Frederick hitting his wife and the Keeper hitting Sebastian was clear. They both did so as somewhat of an accident at the start, and the difference here is that unlike the Keeper, Frederick continued that instinctive/defensive/reactionary response of blaming the person that you just hurt, for you hurting them, because you feel guilty and need someone else to blame for your own actions.
It also doesn’t help that his wife didn’t help Fredrick come to terms with what he’d accidentally done, but that was understandable since she doesn’t have the trust in him that Sebastian has for the Keeper, especially after he tried to hit their kid. That’s why it’s important to establish trust with small things, so that when a big thing goes wrong, when you make a big mistake, as all people do, the trust and strength of the relationship can carry you through it.
Another parallel is between Sebastian and Anne and Frederick's wife. All three of them looked at someone, Sebastian at the Keeper, Anne at Sebastian, and the wife at Frederick, with fear. Unlike both Anne and Frederick's wife, Sebastian took the effort to reach the Keeper, to understand them and was willing to take the pain that comes with helping someone in distress.
(Though I think Frederick's wife has more cause to fear Frederick than Anne did Sebastian. Like, Anne, Sebastian was defending you, not attacking your baby.)
That's why Sebastian gets love, while Anne gets a dead Solomon, and Frederick's wife gets a dead husband haha
Also, like, Anne, you were giving Sebastian mixed signals, like you essentially tell Sebastian “cure me pls” and not give him boundaries, and Solomon is trying to stop Sebastian from curing you. Obviously, in order to fulfil your wish, he's gotta take Solomon out of the equation. You can't have your cake and eat it gurl.
Actions and words matter, and when they don't match up, it creates doubt, uncertainty and unreliability. Communicating and working hard to maintain trust is vital to any relationship, the moment you slack off, it’ll start sliding downhill. You don’t get married and stop courting your partner, you don’t just bank on the blood ties between family, and you can’t expect past goodwill to keep a friendship healthy, Sebastian.
The only reason Ominis was even considering sending Sebastian to Azkaban was because his trust and goodwill for Sebastian had been slipping. Sebastian was so focused on saving Anne that he stopped putting effort into keeping Ominis’ trust high. It’s not enough to not be mad at Ominis for not supporting you, Sebastian, he needs to feel valued.
But, at the same time, it wasn’t like Sebastian could spare the energy to be a good friend, not while going mad over trying to save his sister, so, it’s the kinda thing where nobody’s really the asshole, the situation just sucks.
Anyway, like with Macnair and Selwyn, like with Frederick, the root of evil acts is often banal, benign, until it isn't. It starts out subtle, disregard for some people because they don't fit your idea of normal or correct or worthy of respect. Because they don't make sense in your world view. It always starts small.
I think it should be (hopefully) pretty clear that the Keeper's anger at Frederick here, is not entirely just because he forced Tobbs to stay in the cave where he eventually died. It's the indicator of a lack of care about another life that is so deep seated, that Frederick can't even see anything wrong with his mentality. It bleeds into the rest of his life and behaviour, the way he hurts others with his selfishness.
Much like how the reason we throw the entire piece of bread away is not because of the slight dusting of mold on the corner. We throw it away because that visible mold is an indicator that the rest of the bread already has poisonous roots spread all over its insides. His words and actions are an indicator of a corruption inside that is almost impossible to be cleansed, especially if the person doesn't see anything wrong with his state.
Hypocrisy, apathy, indifference, disregard for empiricism, unrestrained reactionary responses, aversion to critical thought and introspection.
These are some of the hardest elements of human nature to shake when they have taken over the brain because they make it harder for the person to want to change especially if they've driven away the people with the strongest natural ties (family and childhood friends) and highest chance of convincing them through emotional attachment.
Why is emotional attachment the most likely to convince them to change? Because people like that tend to have a more active amygdala (the emotional center of the brain).
I like to believe it's possible, but... well. Difficult. At least. And the Keeper definitely doesn't have the grounds to do that. They're equally as fucked in the apathy and indifference towards harming others category. They're too angry. Yet another product of pain, of suffering.
But whether we can save these people or not, whether they can change or not is not the point. Criminals and the insane are humans too. Human rights do not end once a person's convicted, the law isn't perfect and there are 100% innocent people sitting in jail.
The Keeper then, at least, acknowledges that they could very easily have been Frederick. That they too, have the seeds of apathy within them. That's step one. Being able to see yourself as the person you hate. Being able to see how easily you could have ended up being like that too. How anyone and everyone could have been like that too.
If we are stronger, it's entirely because we were lucky enough to be. Lucky to have the genes we do, or the mind we were born with, or the parents we were born to, or the country or time we were born in. It is arrogance to take full credit for any strength one has.
Nobody can say “I wouldn't have done that in your shoes”, because I am not in your shoes, I am not in your mind, I am not in your body, I do not have your genes, I do not have your history, I am not you.
The only person you can judge is yourself.
What we can say, is “You shouldn't have done that, here's why, now we need to fix it. Will you help me? If yes, great, let's fix it together. If no, then alright, sit over here and reflect on the reason I gave you, while I fix it for you.”
I believe in rehabilitation, redemption and basic human rights. If a person cannot help but cause harm, that doesn't mean we shame them for it and punish them for it. We stop them for the greater good and treat them with as much kindness and respect as possible, while confining them for the safety of the public. We do not call them “stubborn” or “evil” even if they are legitimately beyond saving.
It's natural to feel negatively towards people like Frederick or even the Keeper, but we must both acknowledge and then look past the natural disgust, anger, revulsion and the fear that comes from intuitively understanding that "I could easily be that person".
We mustn't give in to the impulse to say "you must deserve your unfortunate circumstances. That's why I need not fear becoming you, because I am good, I am better than you, and I don't deserve your life."
Monsters are made, not born.
And crying about the monsters that have already been made or attacking them for existing, doesn't do anything. That just makes the monsters more monstrous.
We should try, to help the monsters we can, restrain them with as much dignity as we can afford them, but as I've said before, the best way is to prevent them from existing to begin with. Take away the factors that create people like Frederick. Take away the factors that create people like the Keeper. And, despite how hot they are when angry, Sebastian and Ominis too.
Of course, that's not to say that we should endanger ourselves for others either, we should do what we can within our means. I'm not gonna pull the trolley problem, but take for example, if a person was hanging off a cliff, and saving them would endanger you because you don't have safety measures, I think it's well within your right to not attempt to save them.
But if you have a safety harness and there's no danger or cost to yourself, you really should help that person, because you would really appreciate that if you were the one hanging on that cliff. If you can save the person without danger, and your job is rescuing people, and you don't rescue that person, not only are you not doing your job, that's called negligent manslaughter.
So, yeah, it's sad when we see a tragedy like Frederick, whose life simply did not equip him with the tools or the support needed for him to change. His parents died, his adoptive parents failed to guide him, his wife who had the greatest opportunity to help him, unfortunately, did not have the awareness to know how to help and was too afraid to and he ended up in the hands of people, uninterested in offering him a second chance.
It's honestly not that different from the malice of Macnair and Selwyn, directing all their anger and hate in the wrong direction while Frederick flees from all his problems.
Sebastian had the Keeper and Ominis to give him his second chance and support. Eliza had Ominis give her a second chance and James’ support. Those are examples of the significance of having BOTH second chances and support. Second chances without proper support are useless.
Without the right support, Frederick only ever did his best for himself in an immediate sense, and spent barely any effort on self-improvement, whereas Sebastian was constantly trying to grow. People can't think of others’ suffering when they themselves are suffering. When everyone's lives are better, that empowers them to extend empathy and grace to others.
And while the Keeper doesn't think to this extent because they're not as aware of how the system works, even if you don't think ignoring something bad “hurts you” directly, the way the system works is that, irresponsibility and disregarding other people's suffering, will still eventually come back to bite you in the ass one way or another. The more times you turn away when shit happens, the worse things get.
A quick example is homelessness, if you ignore them, they just get more desperate and aggressive, and they stress the typical citizen with fear of becoming them. If the homeless were given proper care and homes, they can contribute to society, which improves everybody's lives.
Also, while we're absolutely sculpted by our circumstances and environment, the same circumstance doesn't always create the same result. What works for me doesn't necessarily work for you. Putting someone through your own suffering will not necessarily turn them into you. A concept all parents should really be taught.
A pair of identical twins are still different people even if their genes are almost the same, even if they grew up the same way with the same people. If we met ourselves in a parallel universe, or even our past selves, we're still different people.
So, key takeaway is this, don't coat things you do in the clothing of righteousness to feel better about yourself. Nobody is better than anyone else, regardless of how much smarter or skilled or educated. One can be more qualified for an action or decision, but everyone has their own strengths and weaknesses. Even a judge in a court is not a god bringing divine righteousness down on the sinners.
One can be superior or inferior in an area, a skill, in knowledge. But no person is themselves superior or inferior to others.
Once you start thinking it's possible, well, it's a slippery slope and you won't notice yourself sliding down it till you reach the end, and can no longer recognise yourself in the mirror.
Also, I just realised, I basically turned Sebastian's questline into Arcane. (Which I binged from start to finish a few weeks ago, it's so good, I highly recommend it!)
(SPOILER WARNING FOR ARCANE! For the first 4 episodes or so.)
Sebastian is Powder, the one who killed someone while trying his/her best, the one who only wanted to help.
Anne is Vi, blaming Powder/Sebastian for Vander/Solomon's death and leaving Powder/Sebastian broken and pleading for her to come back because they need her.
The Keeper is Silco, the one who's fucked up in the head and what people might consider a "bad person", but who is trying their best in their own way and whose love is very real. The one who would do anything for Powder(Jinx)/Sebastian. The one who understands, protects, and supports Jinx/Sebastian, and thinks Jinx/Sebastian are perfect the way they are.
Ominis is Ekko, the one who lives with regret for the choices he made that contributed to the disaster that happened in the cannery/catacombs.
In the wake of Solomon's death, Ominis decides that Sebastian cannot be trusted to make sound judgement and takes measures to ensure that Sebastian will present no danger to himself or others. Sebastian was lucky this time, the new fifth-year and Anne were willing to spare him, but the next time Sebastian crosses a line, Ominis might not be able to save him from death or Azkaban.
Ominis has practically lost Anne, he cannot lose Sebastian too, and he will do whatever it takes to protect Sebastian.
Even from himself.
Warnings: Sebastian x Ominis! Smut! Dubious consent (that is actually very consensual)! Post-canon! These idiots can't communicate to save their lives, but they'll get there by the end, I only write happy endings.
You can also read on AO3! (chapter specific warnings below)
Notes:
Warnings: Mindfuckery, torture, mental breakdown, PTSD, angsty sex. The “sex as coping mechanism” tag is here for this chapter lol
We're gonna rewind a bit at the start of this chapter, so ya'll get to see poor Ominis, leading up to him showing up at the end of the last chapter xD
Next chapter's the happy ending you've all been waiting for! =D
Edit: Hey, I found a nice quote for this chapter, Oprah though, wow, that's a surprisingly good line.
"The thing you fear most has no power. Your fear of it is what has the power. Facing the truth will set you free."
~ Oprah Winfrey
Sweet Merlin, he hated the Minister. Ominis sighed as he waited outside the Ministry building for a carriage to return to the Gaunt estate, rubbing his fingers over his brow to soothe his headache.
The man was so bloody selfish and lazy, Ominis didn't even need to do anything more than flash the creep a demure smile to convince the prick to steer wizarding Britain in the direction he wanted. Or at least, the direction that his father wanted.
Though, Ominis supposed that he was grateful, at least, that the Minister was a first generation half-blood, so his family didn't expect him to bend over for the man. If he'd been a mudblood, Marvolo would probably have just kidnapped the man for a week to break his mind and throw him back into the seat, a puppet.
Ominis paused and pinched the bridge of his nose as the carriage arrived, and the cabbie opened the door for him with a click. Muggleborn, not mudblood. Bloody hell.
“Are you alright, sir?” The cabbie asked.
“I'm fine.” Ominis snapped irritably.
“Of course, my apologies, sir.” The cabbie gave a flustered bow, scampering out of the way as Ominis stepped towards the carriage with a sigh.
Halting his stride and forcing down his pride, Ominis paused to face the cabbie.
“No, it is I who should apologise. I'm just having a bad day, here's a little extra in remuneration.” Shaking his head and slipping his free hand into his coat pocket, Ominis withdrew several coins to drop into the cabbie's hand.
“T- thank you, sir!” The cabbie exclaimed and Ominis stepped inside, sitting down before the carriage pulled out of the drive.
He really wished he could just apparate back to the estate, but his damn paranoid family had anti-apparition wards on the grounds and the bloody manor wasn't hooked up to the floo. At least the estate wasn't very far away, but anything that kept him away from Sebastian longer than necessary grated on his nerves.
He needed Sebastian. This job, these people, were driving him insane. Ominis ached to return to those years he'd spent living with Sebastian and Anne in Feldcroft, even if Solomon wasn't the nicest person, he was far better than Ominis’ own parents. After having had a taste of a life with warmth, returning to his place as a pureblood lord was agonising.
Now, the only thing he had to look forward to every damn day was coming back home to Sebastian, and coming in Sebastian, Ominis chuckled to himself. The brunet's terrible humour must be rubbing off on him.
At least his parents weren't pressuring him to come inside anyone else, worried that he might pass on his defects to any future heirs. He supposed that was something to be grateful to Marvolo for, if Ominis had been the only son, they'd probably expect him to carry on the family lineage anyway.
So, he could play with Sebastian as much as he wanted and remain loyal to his beloved, without worrying about much else besides upholding the ‘family honour’. He supposed, in the grand scheme of things, that he was lucky. He'd escaped his family for several years and brought home a souvenir, that was something, right?
A bitter voice in the back of his head reminded him that, even if he managed to build his own contacts and network, even if he left the family manor, even after his parents died, he would simply be forced to follow Marvolo's political dictation then.
Ominis would still be expected to tow the line, but at least Sebastian would be safe, even if he must suffer the shame of being a pretty mouthpiece for the Gaunt family. Even if he must bear the guilt of knowing how many people his manipulation was fucking over, even if the ease with which it came disgusted him.
As such thoughts plagued him, Ominis felt the wards around Sebastian's cell go off, and he sighed. He just had to choose to escape today, again. Not that there was ever a good time for Sebastian to escape, but still.
Leaning forward, Ominis raised his cane, the serpent eyes carved into its handle glowing red as he tapped it against the glass window between himself and the cabbie, to get his attention. “Excuse me, please hold the carriage for a moment.”
“Yes, sir!” The cabbie replied, bringing the carriage to a stop.
“Nobbs.” Ominis called, and a moment later, he heard the sound of a house elf's pop across from him.
“Yes, young master?” The elf asked politely.
“My pet has escaped again, find him and detain him till I return.” Ominis instructed simply.
“Yes, young master.” The elf answered promptly and popped away when Ominis waved a hand in dismissal.
Leaning across the gap again, Ominis called to the cabbie. “Thank you for halting, now please make all due haste to the estate. I need to be there urgently.”
“Yes, sir!” The cabbie nodded and cracked the whip, spurring the horses into a sprint.
Reclining once more against the back of his seat, Ominis sighed, hopefully the elves wouldn't have a hard time finding and detaining Sebastian. His wilful lover had managed to trip and injure his leg - while trying to dodge the elves’ magic - the last time he'd escaped. And Ominis didn't want to have to apologise to his parents if Sebastian managed to break something again, lest they elect to discipline Sebastian themselves.
It felt like forever before the carriage finally came to a stop outside the Gaunt manor and Ominis hurried inside, calling for Nobbs once more.
“My apologies, young master, but we haven't been able to find him.” The elf apologised and Ominis could practically hear him wringing his hands. “None of us saw him leave the manor so he must still be on the grounds, but we're not sure where he might be.”
Ominis was about to respond, when the sound of one of the vents opening nearby, came accompanied by soft hisses. “Younglings are all home, tis rare indeed.”
Frowning, Ominis hissed in parseltongue. “Esmerelda, have you seen my pet?”
“Younger youngling's spotted pet? Not today, but I smelled him near the low stairs.” The snake hissed in reply.
So, he'd left the dungeon... hang on, Ominis paused. “All younglings? Nobbs, has my brother returned from his trip?”
“Yes, young master. He returned this morning.” The elf confirmed and Ominis felt a spark of alarm.
“Esmerelda, did you smell my older brother there too?” Ominis hissed, hoping that she would say no.
Unfortunately, the snake answered with a simple. “Yes.”
Ominis felt his stomach turn to ice and he took off running, he checked his brother's room first, banging on the door and hearing nothing within, before hurrying down to the dungeons, trying desperately not to panic.
This was the absolute worst possible scenario.
The door to Sebastian's cell was still slightly ajar and he checked inside momentarily, before going to the other doors and opening them one at a time, poking his wand inside to scan for his beloved. Esmerelda and the elves hadn't found evidence that Sebastian had left the manor, so Marvolo couldn’t have stolen Sebastian away, but which cel-
A muffled scream came from further down the corridor and Ominis’ heart clenched in fear, following the cries till he found its source and with no time to waste, he threw the door open.
“Ominis...” Sebastian’s voice was hoarse from screaming and Ominis could hear the sob in his throat.
A fury unlike anything he'd ever felt before burned through him when his wand told him that, inside the room, was Sebastian, uncovered and strung up by his wrists, on his knees, while his older brother knelt behind him, those filthy hands on his Sebastian's bare and bleeding arse.
“Little brother! How nice of you to join us!” Marvolo laughed and Ominis had never wanted to commit fratricide so much. He ripped his wand from its cane sheath and pointed it at his brother, breath hissing through his teeth as Ominis seethed.
“Oh, now, now, don't do anything rash. I've got a knife here and my hand might just slip and...” Marvolo chuckled meaningfully and fear cut through Ominis’ rage like a blade of ice.
“Stop!” He shouted, feeling as helpless as he'd been as a child, being told to cast the Cruciatus curse. “Just give him back to me, he's mine!”
“Oh, of course my dear, I just wanted to know for sure.” Marvolo's smile was audible in his voice and Ominis wanted to rip it off his face. “You know, I was worried when you first came back, I thought you might be trying to get dirt on our family. Wouldn't want a traitor in our midst after all.”
“Just shut up and give him back.” Ominis pleaded.
He couldn't give less of a fuck what his brother thought of him right now, he could still hear Sebastian wheezing in pain as he hung in that awful position. He needed to go to Sebastian, needed to heal him, hold him and comfort him. He had no idea what his brother had already done to Sebastian and the thought turned his stomach.
“Come now, there's no need to rush, I just want to express how proud I am of you.” Marvolo's tone was disgustingly sweet, and it took several moments before Ominis could process what he'd said.
When it finally did sink in, Ominis was left no less confused and couldn't help but blurt out a bewildered. “What? What in Merlin's name are you on about?”
“Why, your ingenuity and exquisite taste, of course.” Marvolo laughed. “I never thought of getting a toy that needs to remain sane for love. He’ll never break and never stop fighting. Clever.”
Ominis bristled, deeply offended by the garbage his brother was spewing. Whatever, his brother could think what he liked about Ominis as long as it didn't affect him. “...are you done?”
“Not quite, please, tell me little brother, I'm absolutely dying to know, is his sister still alive?” The question sounded genuinely curious and Ominis stiffened, how did he know about Anne?
Marvolo seemed to take his surprise as hesitation, and he quickly followed up with. “Oh, right, sorry, wouldn't want to spoil your fun. Here, I'll knock him out. Stupefy.”
The spell hit Sebastian, and his chains rattled as he went limp.
Ominis’ mind raced, how should he answer? He wasn't even close to ready to move Sebastian out of his family's reach.
Should he lie? No, Marvolo would check, and he didn't doubt that his brother would be able to find Sebastian's identity, with enough time. His slimy brother would tell his parents and they would start scrutinising his activities even more than they already did. That would hinder his attempts to gain some independence from them.
The freedom to protect Sebastian.
If he told the truth... Marvolo would hold it over him. Ominis knew his brother. Marvolo would threaten to tell Sebastian the truth if Ominis didn't comply.
But even if Marvolo told Sebastian, that was fine, wasn't it? Sebastian loved him, if Ominis told him that Marvolo was lying, Sebastian would believe him.
Sebastian would trust him over his brother.
Sebastian loved him.
Ominis bit his lip, why did it still feel so terrible? “...she died last year.”
Marvolo burst into laughter. “Oh that is incredible! You must really hate this poor little thing.”
“What?” Ominis hissed, offended and confused in equal measure, and he was getting tired of feeling that ungodly mix. His patience was wearing thin and his strength draining by the moment.
“To hold him in a state of suspended anxiety and desperation, of course!” Marvolo cackled in delight. “Oh what glorious torture! I must rescind my title of ‘most cruel’ in the Gaunt house, my dear, that is positively evil!”
Evil? Me? Ominis’ eyes were wide, struck speechless by the very notion. Torture? What I've don-
He could hear Marvolo stepping closer. “Tell me, little brother, does it feel good to fuck him, knowing that she's already dead?”
“...!” Ominis choked, tasting bile on his tongue.
“You must let me watch if you ever tell him, ahhh, it'll be spectacular I'm sure, knowing that his jailer kept him on the edge of madness for years while fucking his pretty freckled arse.” That's not what I- “Speaking of which, do you want him to carry your children? Is that why you plug him up? I mean, I get that too.”
“That-” couldn’t be further from the truth, I don't want to bring more of our cursed bloodline into this world!
“I know a ritual, there's a high chance of death in childbirth, but if you want, I can give it to you. Your seed wouldn't go to waste then.” Shutupshutupshutup- “Though, in exchange, I must ask that you let me have a go at him if you do. I happen to have a thing for pregnan-”
“Crucio.” The spell slipped out of Ominis’ mouth easily, so easily, too easily. The pain that had been building in his chest, from the insane and vile, horrendous, nonsense that his brother was spewing.
The spell seemed to catch Marvolo off guard, and for a moment, there was blissful silence.
Then the screams began, they were nothing like the sounds that Ominis had heard in the Scriptorium, when they had been forced to cast the spell to escape. These were real shrieks of agony, all the pain he'd wanted to inflict on his brother after years of torture, torment and scorn, after what he'd done to Sebastian, to my Sebastian.
What Marvolo wanted to do to Sebastian, was inexcusable, unacceptable, he should suffer, it was right for him to suffer. For Marvolo to taste the fruits of his own making, for him to experience the same curse he'd cast on Ominis, the curse he'd forced Ominis to learn. This was what he deserved. This was justice. This was righteousness. This was-
Madness.
Ominis felt his face contort with horror when, mingled within the screams, he could hear laughter. His brother, under the Cruciatus curse... was laughing.
Shock and confusion disrupted his focus, his anger replaced with disgust and the spell broke free from Ominis’ grasp, the sound of harsh panting interspersed with giddy laughter filled the room.
“Ha... ha... ha... my my... brother, I didn't think- think you had that in you.” Marvolo's wheezes were tired and pained, but despite it all, his tone was still as cheerful as it had been, even as it trembled. “Alright, I- I get it, he's yours to torture. Didn't... hah... think you'd be so... territorial, but I suppose... you'd have to be pretty obsessed to play such- such a long game.”
He couldn’t take this any longer, Ominis gripped the sides of his head between his hands - he felt like he was losing his mind - and he shouted desperately. “Shut up! You don't know anything! We're in love!”
There was a long moment of silence following his declaration, stretching into the void, before it was finally broken.
“...pfffttt hahahaha!” He could hear Marvolo rolling on the floor with the force of his laughter, coughing and hacking for a moment, before propping himself up on his elbows with a satisfied sigh. “Good one, little brother!”
“Come on, are you really talking about love? In a relationship like this?” Marvolo's voice was snide and relaxed as he caught his breath. “I've yet to own a pet that doesn't bend over readily to keep me happy. Say anything I want to hear. And the fact that he keeps trying to escape, that he even has reason to seek escape from your grasp, means neither of you love each other.”
It felt like his words were touching something, something deep in the pit of Ominis’ stomach, something he'd buried a long time ago. Something he'd tried to forget, to ignore, digging it out to the surface and exposing its rotting carcass to the air.
Ominis shook his head frantically, trying, struggling to bury it again, as he choked out a weak. “You're wrong.”
“Ha! Call me evil, call me sick, but I'm not wrong, even I know that love doesn't look like this. Disarming and disempowering each other, you don't think mother and father love each other, do you?” Marvolo scoffed in amusement, getting to his feet in a rustle of cloth. “Maybe you haven't quite outgrown your naivete, but that's fine, you're heading in the right direction.”
Marvolo strolled over towards him, the leisurely taps of his shoes against stone echoing through the cell as he spoke, as though the man hadn't just been under the Cruciatus curse mere minutes ago.
“You're finally one of us. My holier-than-thou little brother, it's so satisfying to see you lose your wings.” His voice was disgustingly happy as it hissed in Ominis’ ear, his hand bitingly cold against Ominis’ shoulder. “I look forward to the day when you're just like me.”
“Have fun with your toy, little brother.” With that, the man left the cell, and devastation in his wake.
Ominis clutched at his head for several more minutes, breath shaky as he struggled to hold himself together, scrambling to put his pieces back together.
His brother was wrong. What did he know about Sebastian or Ominis. They'd been best friends since they were eleven, they'd been through thick and thin together. Their bond had been strong enough to survive everything from Anne's curse to Solomon's murder.
Sebastian had listened to him in the end, become quiet and obedient, after Solomon. Even before Ominis put him in chains, Sebastian had chosen to submit, to follow Ominis’ lead.
Because he trusted you.
Ominis shook his head. No, because Sebastian loved him, because Sebastian knew that everything Ominis did, he did for Sebastian.
Yet you betrayed his trust and kept him locked up when he wanted out.
He hadn't! He hadn't betrayed Sebastian, he'd done what was best for Sebastian.
Lied to him.
He- but- it was to protect Sebastian-
If you really believed in your bond... wouldn't it have survived Anne's death too?
A soft groan of discomfort came from Sebastian's unconscious form and Ominis jolted from his thoughts. What was he doing? Sebastian was still hanging from his chains, on his knees, bleeding, and here he was having a crisis in the bloody doorway.
Stumbling forward and crouching, Ominis removed his coat and set it on his knee for the moment. Before wrapping his arms around Sebastian, carrying the brunet's weight against his chest as Ominis flicked his wand and released the chains from the bar on the ceiling.
It was such a relief, to hold him, to feel his warmth, to have Sebastian safe in his arms again. He pressed his nose into Sebastian's hair and breathed in deep, cradling the brunet close for a soothing moment.
Wrapping his coat around Sebastian's body, Ominis carefully lifted the young man in his arms, his stomach tightening when he did so with ease. Uncertainty gnawed at Ominis’ insides as he stood and began carrying Sebastian back to his own room.
Would Sebastian have lost so much weight if he knew the truth? Was it just from disuse and being locked up in here, or was he the reason that Sebastian’s condition had been worsening over the years? Was he really torturing Sebastian emotionally? Would moving out with Sebastian, and giving him a better environment, really change nothing?
The clattering of Sebastian's chains dragging along the floor grated on his ears, reminding Ominis that his own chains - the chains he'd put on Sebastian - had been used by his brother to bind Sebastian.
To tie him up while Marvolo did whatever he wanted with his Sebastian.
The thought brought Ominis’ anger back as he set Sebastian down on his bed and shut the door behind him. It took nary a moment's thought, to wrap the chains around the bed frame and melt the ends together, before Ominis began to inspect Sebastian's injuries, finding three large gashes, a cut, and a puncture wound.
It felt disgusting to think that Marvolo's hands had been on Sebastian, touching his bare skin, and there was a moment of fear as Ominis checked between his legs. Before being quite overcome with relief, when he found the butt plug still in place and just to be certain, Ominis carefully eased it out and slipped a finger inside, finding to further relief, only the fading remnants of his own seed.
What else had his brother done to Sebastian? His Sebastian. That ugly feeling reared its head inside Ominis once again, his claim had been challenged, his ownership of his treasure's heart and body had been challenged. Sebastian was his.
Right?
Grinding his teeth together, Ominis slipped another finger in.
As he did so, Sebastian groaned again, flinching as he jolted into wakefulness, disoriented and confused, experiencing his own moment of fear when he felt someone between his legs and fingers in him. Was it Ominis? Or-
“Sebastian, it's okay. It's me.” Ominis murmured, and Sebastian relaxed, releasing a sob of relief and reaching out to cling to his shoulders. “Did he touch you in here?”
Sebastian shook his head immediately, pretty glad that he could say as such. “No, he- he just- just the plug.”
“What else did he touch?” Ominis demanded, removing his fingers and absently casting a vanishing spell, destroying the plug with a flick.
“That- er, my mouth, I guess.” Sebastian sounded confused, though when Ominis stiffened, he quickly followed up with. “With his hand! Not his- though he said he might later, but you got there so- unless he did something else after stunning me...”
He was audibly disturbed by the possibility, and Ominis moved to reassure him. “Nothing, he did nothing further to you.”
Sebastian released a shaky breath at his words, and pressed his forehead against Ominis’ shoulder, whispering a quiet. “Thank you...”
As Sebastian clung to him, Ominis reached into the bedside drawer and removed a vial of wiggenweld potion, pouring it into his mouth, before leaning back slightly. Taking Sebastian by the chin, Ominis pressed their lips together, feeding Sebastian the potion as he'd often done before, trying not to think about how routine this action had become.
Thank you.
Sebastian had thanked him, Sebastian was grateful to him, for protecting him, for taking care of him. He wasn't thinking about how it was Ominis’ fault that he was here to begin with, right? He didn't secretly hate Ominis, and only said what Ominis wanted to hear, right?
Sebastian loved him, right?
A whimper of pain came from Sebastian's throat, and Ominis realised that his hold on the brunet's chin had tightened without his notice. Loosening his grip, he parted their lips to rub his fingers over Sebastian's mouth, itching to erase any traces of contact his brother had made with the soft skin.
“Ominis?” Sebastian murmured.
“Sebastian, you love me, right?” Ominis asked after a moment.
“Wha-”
“Answer.” Ominis hissed, tightening his grip, before flinching and letting go as though burned, swallowing. “...please...”
“I- yes, I love you, Ominis.” Sebastian's voice was shaky and confused.
His heart sank, it wasn't going away.
“Again.” Ominis pleaded, on the edge of desperate tears. “Tell me again.”
“I love you.” Sebastian whispered, leaning forward to press their lips together sweetly. “Love you.”
“Again.” Tears rolled down Ominis’ cheeks, it wasn't working, that fear wasn't going away.
Ominis’ hand moved to grip Sebastian's hips, feeling the drying flakes of blood on his skin as he slipped his fingers inside Sebastian's body again and the brunet's grip tightened on his shoulders.
“Lo- love you, Ominis...” Sebastian gasped when he brushed across his prostate, before withdrawing.
“Again.” Ominis murmured, desperately chasing freedom from the guilt gnawing at his insides as he released Sebastian and straightened to loosen his belt.
“I love you.” Sebastian breathed, sitting up with a wince as the dried blood tore from his healing wounds, clinging to the fibres of Ominis’ coat. Before pressing his lips to the half-hard member that was revealed, mouthing eagerly at the tip, seeking his own distraction from that awful encounter with Marvolo.
Sighing at the sensation against his crown, Ominis threaded his fingers into Sebastian's hair and guided his hardening length into that hot waiting mouth. He would sooner kill his brother than let him - or anyone else - take Sebastian's mouth like this. His grip tightening at the thought, Ominis pressed himself in further and began to thrust, seeking reassurance that this was still his.
If words wouldn't work, he would get it from Sebastian's body. Surely.
Bracing a hand against the headboard he pushed in till he felt the back of Sebastian's throat. It was love, wasn't it? That was why Sebastian didn't resist, obediently letting Ominis use his mouth, letting Ominis take his pleasure from his body, right?
Merlin, it felt good, it always did, being inside any part of Sebastian. Ominis wrapped his fingers loosely around Sebastian's throat, feeling the skin stretch around his length, but it wasn't enough, this wasn't what he was looking for. Maybe he needed to hear Sebastian's pleasure, to remind himself that Sebastian wanted this too.
He could hear Sebastian gasp for air as he pulled out and Ominis gave him time to catch his breath as he removed his pants fully. Before retrieving lubricant from the bedside drawer and returning to kneel between Sebastian's legs once more.
“Tell me you love me?” Ominis murmured as he pressed kisses against his neck.
“I love you.” Sebastian sighed, wrapping his arms around Ominis’ shoulders and moaning softly as he spread oil along his insides. “I love you, Ominis.”
They were so sweet, those words, and Ominis wished they would stop leaving a bitter taste when they touched his tongue. Leaning down, he captured Sebastian's lips.
Hearing them was starting to hurt.
Pressing himself inside, he listened instead, to the way Sebastian's breath caught, the deep groan in his throat. Felt the shudder that shook Sebastian's body, moaning against Ominis’ lips and tightening around his length.
Holding Sebastian's thighs around his hips, Ominis thrust into him, pleasure dancing along his spine, and panting into Sebastian's mouth as he ground against his prostate.
The sound of Sebastian moaning and keening was exactly what Ominis needed, he wanted this, clearly. Wanted to be stuffed full of Ominis’ cock, nails digging into his shoulders and legs clamped tight around his hips. Begging him to go harder, faster, Sebastian wanted this. Surely.
That hot splatter of sticky fluid as he came against Ominis’ stomach, whining into his ear as Ominis continued thrusting, holding back his own orgasm with everything he had. He didn't want to stop.
Fear of returning to that sea of doubt, bereft of the escape that pleasure provided, drove him onwards, and Ominis lapped at the beads of sweat pooling in his collar, rocking in and out of Sebastian's oversensitive body, dragging wails from his throat. Unheeding of his whimpers of pain as Ominis coaxed another - now dry - orgasm from Sebastian, his nails leaving burning lines across Ominis’ back as he thrashed.
At which point, Ominis could no longer contain himself and emptied his heat into Sebastian's body, but it still wasn't enough. The fear began creeping back, even as Ominis panted against Sebastian's nape, and he attempted to distract himself. Running his hands along Sebastian's thighs, digging his nails into the healing gashes and suckling on the closing puncture wound on his collar, feeling Sebastian jolt and tremble in his arms.
He wanted to forget, wanted to forget the truth that he'd buried for five years, the truth that Marvolo had revealed. That he'd discarded the reason he'd locked Sebastian up to begin with. The truth, that he'd panicked when Sebastian confessed his love, that he'd surrendered to his fear of losing that love. That he'd gone from wanting to protect Sebastian's light, to desperate to keep Sebastian by his side, no matter what.
Ominis, please, let me go. I'm already yours, I promise, you won't lose me.
Sebastian's words that day... he hadn't been able to believe them, because deep down, he'd known, even then, that he couldn’t trust anything Sebastian said in here. Not while Ominis held power over him, over Sebastian's agency.
He bit down on Sebastian's heaving chest, feeling the brunet's length slowly hardening against his stomach again as Sebastian whined and clutched at his arms. So, he'd sought reassurance in Sebastian's body. The body could surely not lie. If Sebastian felt disgust or anger towards him, how could he produce such moans of delight? How could he offer Ominis his body so eagerly?
His own length almost hurt when Ominis resumed thrusting into Sebastian, his erection only barely recovered in the few minutes he'd spent... claiming? Cleansing? Reinstating his ownership of Sebastian's body?
Was there even any point in that? Marking Sebastian, claiming him, caging him. Fighting so hard to maintain the status quo, freezing their relationship in time, for fear that it wouldn't survive the grief of Anne's loss, that Sebastian would never recover. That he wouldn't be able to handle it if Sebastian needed to rely on him.
It was so much easier to provide for Sebastian in a material way, feed him, clothe him, fuck him. He knew how to handle an angry Sebastian, raging and railing against fate, but how could he carry a grieving and broken Sebastian when he couldn’t even carry himself? When he hadn't even managed to be with Anne in her last days, the pain in her voice too much to bear.
The thought of hearing her breath stop, of carrying that memory for the rest of his days, was too painful to even consider.
He'd robbed Sebastian of the chance to be with her in her final moments, even if she'd said she'd rather Sebastian not carry the vision of her passing. That it was enough that he'd borne the weight of their parents’ death, and it'd driven him mad with fear.
Ominis knew deep down that this was worse. If he hadn't chained Sebastian down, he'd have gone to her side, regardless of what she'd said.
Sebastian would have gotten some form of closure.
Ominis clutched tighter at his hips and thrust with abandon, trying to drown his guilt with painful pleasure. Heavy pants and whimpers in his ears as he wrung another dry orgasm from Sebastian, who then went limp, slumping on the bed in exhaustion, too worn out to cling to Ominis further.
When he was spent, Ominis replaced his soft length with his fingers, mouthing at freckled skin as the slick of his seed oozed around his digits, and Sebastian simply laid under him, moaning softly, letting Ominis use him till neither could think any more.
Notes:
I know some might argue that Ominis would not cast the Cruciatus curse ever again, but remember that this Ominis isn't the same 15 year old kid in the Scriptorium. Take into account his current mental state, and that unlike in the Scriptorium, Marvolo isn't a classmate or his best friend. We see from Ominis saying “Rookwood got what he deserved”, that he's not opposed to revenge or vigilante justice.
Hell, he thinks Sebastian should face some form of punishment for his actions, so, clearly, Ominis has a strong sense of personal justice. And here he's in a situation where he knows Marvolo will see no justice beyond Ominis’ own hand, and he's had five years of stress, living as a Gaunt, telling himself that he's doing a good thing for Sebastian, that he's selflessly sacrificing his own happiness for Sebastian, living the contradictory dichotomy of behaving like his family while telling himself he's a martyr.
When Ominis said “I'm as guilty as the worst of my family” in the Scriptorium, and that one “always has a choice”, he's referring to his choice to be selfish, to save himself pain by inflicting it on someone else, it's because the Cruciatus working, made it undeniable that he had made an active and conscious choice to hurt someone to save himself. It's not specifically the curse that he regrets, it's the genuine selfishness of choosing himself, for choosing to take his pain out on someone else. (Which is ridiculous to feel guilty for, kid, you're not Jesus, you were a child scared of pain. Selfishness here is completely understandable.)
If he meant the curse specifically, he'd have treated MC or Sebastian with the same disdain and bitterness that he regards his family with, after they cast it. If he really could never forgive casting the Cruciatus, he wouldn't have been able to forgive MC/Sebastian, but he doesn't, because he does understand that it's not that simple, that casting the Cruciatus doesn't make you cruel or evil.
He's convinced that Sebastian/MC will regret casting the Cruciatus, but not because he thinks they “should” regret it, but because Ominis himself regrets it. He's afraid that they will feel the same self-hate as he does, but they don't, because his self-hate here is irrational and a result of his C-PTSD, not the spell itself.
It's him beating himself up for becoming like his family, the one thing he is terrified of. He wants to see himself as not-like his family, people who hurt others for selfish reasons. He wants to avoid associating himself with anything that reminds him of what he considers a failing. And in this fic, he's had five years of not being able to look away.
I think all that stress could drive him insane enough to cast it.
Particularly when it's on one of the people who forced him to cast it the first time as a child too. The thing about hurting others, is that when it's been done to you a lot, you become accustomed to it and once you yourself have done it once, it gets easier. And the more stressed and angry and cornered a person feels, the easier it is for inhibitions to slip. That's why abuse victims have a higher chance of resorting to inflicting the same type of abuse they suffered, when having a breakdown.
Ominis knows what it feels like to regret a choice, that's why he avoids making any choice at all, that's why he pushes responsibility to others so hard, because he knows what it's like to regret so much that he hates himself.
Next thing I wanted to address is; just because someone is willing to forgive you for hurting them, stepping over their boundaries, or breaching consent with them, doesn't make it okay to keep doing it. That's something Sebastian learned during the game and that Ominis learns here. It's one of the few things that I was frustrated that Ominis didn't learn during the game.
Everyone talks about how much Sebastian hurt Ominis during the questline, but what about all the hurt that Ominis dealt Sebastian? Regardless of whether one thinks Sebastian was reasonable or not, it's undeniable that Ominis hurt Sebastian a lot with his lack of support and constant virtue-signalling that indicates a lack of faith in Sebastian's character and love, as both a friend and brother.
Treating Sebastian like you think he's stupid and wrong isn't going to stop him from doing shit. It'll just make him stop listening. Sebastian is driven by genuine and pure love, the desire to protect, and naive curiosity. Such feelings need to be held in check by caution and responsibility, but they're not malicious or negative in nature. When such innocent feelings are called wrong or framed as negative, it's hurtful and makes a person feel like you're not seeing them.
“If you start out being wrong about what my motivations and feelings even are, why should I believe that the conclusions you came to apply to me? If the values in your equation are wrong, your result must also be wrong.” That's the logic behind why Sebastian doesn't listen to Solomon and Ominis. Not understanding that some trends are strong enough that even if you change a few values, it still results in a similar conclusion.
But the inexperienced cannot understand this, sometimes one must touch the fire to realise it's hot, try again and get burned again, before deciding that maybe bare hands can't hold fire. (Though these people are usually the ones who eventually invent tongs or insulating gloves, so maybe the persistence to find a way to hold fire isn't a bad thing, hm?)
So, the best way to avoid burned hands, is to reach the kid by proving to them that you see them accurately, and understand them, then they'll be more likely to listen. Letting your own frustration make you push the kid away doesn't help anything Solomon you asshole.
Vander's talk with Vi in Arcane's episode 2 is a very good depiction of good guidance, because he doesn't condemn her desire to fight, he meets her with understanding, acceptance and reason, and because of that, when he tells her the dangers of what she wants to do, she listens to him. In fact, he tells her to never stop fighting, because Trying isn't the problem. It's how you try.
Even if it's objectively and factually bad to smoke and it's “for their own good” that a parent doesn't allow their kid to smoke. That still does NOT make it okay to tell the kid “you're wrong/bad/disrespectful/rude/stubborn for being curious and wanting to smoke”. You can guide a child without hurting them or making them feel bad for just being curious.
Naturally this also applies to friendships and romance. You can tell your friend or partner or kid that “you're panicking and rushing headlong into this, you need to stop and think, or you'll make a mistake and make things worse, let me help you” without using shitty prescriptive words like Solomon's “you don't know when to stop”.
MC does the first one on the mountain and it works. Sebastian calms down and then starts thinking. Going at someone who is already agitated with aggression and anger only makes them stop listening.
Sebastian does the right thing in this chapter too, he gives Ominis what Ominis needs. Sebastian's confused and Ominis isn't making sense to him, but he doesn't need to understand what's upsetting Ominis, it doesn't need to be rational. All you can do is help the upset person calm down and feel better first, then they can think.
In the game, Ominis is too upset with Sebastian endangering himself, taking Sebastian's recklessness personally, as though Sebastian's actions were because he didn't care about Ominis, rather than desperation to cure Anne and driven by Sebastian's own despair and anger. Both of them were too upset to talk or think straight and they just kept butting heads because of that. But it's because they care so much that they couldn't help but be upset, that means they just need a clear head and then they'd be able to reconcile.
Real friends are those who, when you've made a fool of yourself, don't think you've done a permanent job. And despite everything, Ominis and Sebastian are real friends. Real love understands that everyone has bad days/weeks/months or even years. We see in-game that Ominis understands this, when he said “poor Sebastian” before we speak with him to make the decision to turn Sebastian in or not.
While he is afraid that Sebastian won't be willing to change, and while he rightfully thinks it is not the best result for Sebastian to receive no consequences for his foolishness. He also understands that Sebastian is as much of a victim of the circumstances as Anne, that Sebastian was also suffering.
I think, if he can see that, if he can empathise with Sebastian, he can forgive Sebastian too, when he sees Sebastian try. He can believe that Sebastian hasn't done a permanent job of making a fool of himself.
In the wake of Solomon's death, Ominis decides that Sebastian cannot be trusted to make sound judgement and takes measures to ensure that Sebastian will present no danger to himself or others. Sebastian was lucky this time, the new fifth-year and Anne were willing to spare him, but the next time Sebastian crosses a line, Ominis might not be able to save him from death or Azkaban.
Ominis has practically lost Anne, he cannot lose Sebastian too, and he will do whatever it takes to protect Sebastian.
Even from himself.
Warnings: Sebastian x Ominis! Smut! Dubious consent (that is actually very consensual)! Post-canon! These idiots can't communicate to save their lives, but they'll get there by the end, I only write happy endings.
You can also read on AO3! (chapter specific warnings below)
Notes:
Warnings: Descriptions of Anhedonia, PTSD, and depression. Depictions of torture and a bit of an attempted sexual assault, but don't worry, it doesn't go very far!
I am so tired, I'm glad this is already mostly written lol Somehow, the next chapter for It's My Own Design is coming out really slowly, maybe I'm just too tired... but here, have my favorite quote from my favorite author as a kid, that happens to be really relevant.
"Of all tyrannies, a tyranny sincerely exercised for the good of its victims may be the most oppressive.”
~ C.S. Lewis
Sebastian frowned as he fiddled with the contraption holding his chains to the wall, his fingers and back sore from working on it for almost two hours at such an odd angle. Cursing when he dropped the pin he'd stolen - from one of Ominis’ broaches - and it clattered to the floor, disappearing under the bed.
In frustration, he slammed his fist against the wall, only serving to send jolts of pain up his arm, and he choked out a sob, dropping his head into his hands.
What was the point? Ominis would just drag him back here when his alarms went off. He'd had one chance, before Ominis thought to set alarms on the door - the first time Sebastian broke out - and he'd hesitated, fearing that he would further destroy Ominis’ trust in him, and he'd been caught by the damn family snakes.
A bitter laugh bubbled from Sebastian's lips, wouldn't be the first time he'd bungled his first and only shot. If he hadn't fucked up and killed his uncle in the heat of battle, hurt by Solomon's betrayal, Ominis wouldn't have felt the need to contain him this way, to prevent him from hurting someone else.
He'd thought he'd done the right thing, his uncle tried to kill him and his new friend. Had intended to let Anne die in pain. He'd not even considered disarming his uncle, what point would that have served when the man would simply continue to obstruct Sebastian's righteous cause?
He hadn't realised how much Solomon meant to Anne, even though their uncle had given up on her, until Ominis told him that she was considering turning him in for killing Solomon. Azkaban. She was considering making him spend the rest of his life in hell, and Ominis was considering it too.
His new friend had stood up for him and Sebastian had never been so grateful to have someone who understood that he'd just been trying to help, and he'd promised to try to learn from his mistakes. He couldn’t bear to lose Ominis or his new friend. It was too much already, to have lost Anne's love.
He would submit, he would bend, he'd promised, and he always kept his word.
But it was so hard. Every moment was pain, forcing himself to abstain. To do nothing as his sister's time ran dry. It took everything he'd had just to stay sane, he lost the joy of battle, books became dull, what point was there in trying? When the world only punished him for doing his best.
When even his closest friend... when Ominis wanted him to give up.
The days blurred together, the world lost colour. He forgot what it felt like to want anything.
When Ominis asked him to accompany him to visit his family, Sebastian had been surprised. He hadn't thought that Ominis would ever return to them, even for a mere visit, but he'd lost the will to question anything, especially from Ominis. So, he'd agreed and followed along meekly.
Did he wish he hadn't? That was a good question.
He'd been astounded when Ominis brought him to this room, filled with books, a bed, a desk and a small wash closet. Then he'd been shocked and overjoyed when Ominis told him that he'd made a deal with his family, that Sebastian could read any and all of the Gaunt family's forbidden dark arts tomes in search of a cure for Anne.
His only condition had been that Sebastian must remain in this room, without his wand as a precaution, for Ominis didn't trust Sebastian not to hurt himself by attempting something he'd read. That Ominis would continue to try and convince Anne to forgive Sebastian and that if she agreed to it, Sebastian would be permitted to attempt to cure her with what he'd found.
Sebastian had been so grateful for Ominis’ change of heart and his support, that he'd surrendered his wand willingly and even accepted the cuffs that would block his magic without hesitation. It was a bit unsettling, being literally chained up at all times, and it made using the wash closet difficult, but it was Sebastian's own fault that Ominis didn't trust him after all. So he'd accepted it. He would prove that he'd learned from his mistakes and could be cautious.
He would win back Ominis’ trust and earn his sister's forgiveness.
The first two weeks had been euphoric, he'd devoured his new books, eagerly telling Ominis what fascinating magic he'd found within their pages, regaling the blind boy with his discoveries and theories. It felt like old times, the two of them huddled together as Sebastian read, Ominis listening patiently by his side.
It'd taken a while, but eventually Sebastian started noticing how withdrawn Ominis was becoming, how tired and stressed he was starting to look. He'd felt so guilty when he remembered, Ominis had made a deal to gain him access to the wealth of Gaunt and Slytherin knowledge. What had been Ominis’ end of the bargain?
He'd questioned Ominis incessantly and his best friend had eventually admitted that he'd returned to his family and conformed, to win Sebastian this opportunity. Surrendered his morals and bent to his family's expectations.
Sebastian had been horrified and immediately demanded that Ominis call off the deal - he was not worth selling Ominis’ entire life to torture - but Ominis had given him a cryptic smile and said he found his reward to be worth the sacrifice.
When he failed to convince Ominis to rescind the deal, he'd thrown himself into his research with greater fervour. He needed to find a cure quickly, cure Anne, and get Ominis out of this hell hole. He knew he'd pushed Ominis too far in the Scriptorium. Giving himself up for Anne was fine, but Sebastian was not going to risk Ominis’ life or happiness ever again.
That was why he hadn't asked Ominis or his new friend to be present when he tried to use the relic. After the Ancient Magic route had fallen through, Sebastian had understood that curing Anne was his duty, that he couldn't drag others down with him in his crusade. Now that he had a second chance, he wasn't going to make that mistake again.
Unfortunately, there was only so much he could do with research alone. He needed to run tests, needed to examine Anne and attempt what he was theorising.
It took a few weeks of asking Ominis when he could go to Anne or at least speak with her, ask her about her symptoms, for him to realise...
Ominis never faced him when saying he'd speak with Anne.
Why? Why was he lying? Why was there a need to lie? Was Anne already de- Sebastian covered his mouth as bile rose in the back of his throat.
He could still feel it, the phantom chill of his father's skin, cold under his fingers. His lungs burning, coughing and hacking through his tears, struggling to drag his mother out of the cellar, trying desperately to pull her out of the heavy gas that was suffocating her. Shouting for Anne to stay away, to go get their neighbours.
Tears cold on his cheeks as he felt his mother's last breath against his chest, unable to fight the tight grip of hands dragging him away from her still form as his consciousness faded. The weight of his failure had borne down on his shoulders every day since, the panic that'd wracked him when he'd seen Anne's crumpled form on the dirt. Just like their mother.
Sebastian squeezed his eyes closed and swallowed, shaking his head frantically and shoving the memory back down with the bile.
No, Anne was still alive. She had to be. He'd simply destroyed Ominis’ trust in him. It was just because Anne still couldn't forgive him. It was his own fault, it was understandable that Ominis didn't want him to endanger or hurt other people, like he had last time.
So, he'd begged Ominis to free him, and then...
“Because I love you.”
“I've always loved you.”
His heart had stopped, he- Ominis, his beautiful, kind, gentle, elegant, sharp tongued and coquettish best friend loved him.
Me, of all people. Sebastian had been in disbelief. Me, the one who broke your trust and your heart, not Anne who's also pined after you for years.
Like true twins, they'd both fallen in love with the same person. It had been a silent agreement that neither would court Ominis, leaving him to decide on either twin on his own, or choose someone else.
He'd forgotten everything in that moment. It was just the two of them, no curses, no chains, no expectations, no guilt. He'd moved before he could think about it. Soft and sweet, those lovely lips were as wonderful as he'd always dreamt.
Sebastian had always pictured Ominis, like a porcelain figure that he would worship, on his knees, gently and carefully, unfurling the beauty he'd so admired and painstakingly drawing his pleasure to the surface.
Instead, Ominis had laid waste to him with an almost searing and desperate passion.
He'd had those elegant hands on him, slender fingers around his length, as the boy Sebastian had always imagined would be shy and uncertain, was instead suckling on his nipples like his best friend wanted to draw milk from them. Lewd sounds and electric pleasure enveloping him, Ominis practically attacking him, so aggressive in his ardour, rendering Sebastian helpless.
Completely not what he'd expected, but Sebastian would not be outdone and he'd done his best to return the favour. He'd loved the weight of Ominis on his tongue, the way it filled his mouth, the shape and heat of it pressing against the back of his throat. Merlin, he'd come to love Ominis’ cock.
He'd enjoyed fucking Ominis, of course, absolutely, could barely believe that he'd had the honour of taking Ominis’ firsts. He was so indescribably beautiful, his insides soft and silky smooth, but Sebastian loved Ominis’ cock far more. Inside his mouth, inside his body, grinding against his length, between his thighs, everywhere. He just couldn’t get enough.
Every time they had sex, Sebastian felt guilty for enjoying it, for managing to forget why he was here, for almost thinking everything worth it to be able to get fucked by Ominis every day. Just almost.
A whimper escaped Sebastian's lips as he shifted, feeling the butt plug inside him sliding against his full insides. Fuuuck, that was so hot. Feeling the remnants of Ominis’ seed slowly getting absorbed into his body was enough to make Sebastian harden in his drawers.
Honestly, he'd underestimated his best friend, being so controlled and posh, with his pretty eyelashes and high cheekbones. Sebastian never thought that he'd be such a monster in bed, the blond had an insane libido and endurance, or possibly just self-control, and it drove him absolutely mad.
Taking a deep breath, Sebastian shook his head and got down on his knees, searching under the bed for the pin and manoeuvring around the limited mobility afforded to him by his chains. Focus, he had to focus. They could have all the sex he wanted when Ominis was free from his family and the job he hated, when Anne was cured and Sebastian was out of this cell.
He wanted to take Ominis to see a play, buy him sweet smelling flowers and bring him to some of the gorgeous places that Sebastian had found with their friend in fifth-year. He wanted to have tea with Ominis and Anne at that nice cafe with cinnamon biscuits in Diagon Alley. Hell, at this point, he'd be fine if that tea was just had between Ominis and Anne, at least they would both be happy and free.
He had to get out of here, had to find out if Anne was still alive, and if she was, to beg her to help him convince Ominis to call off this deal with the Gaunt Family. She loved him too, surely she wouldn't let Ominis torture himself like this. If she-
Sebastian took the pin in his hand, clutching it tightly as he stood and began fiddling with the contraption once more. If she was- if she was ...dead... then- then, he would deal with that then. He would try to figure out why Ominis had been lying to him about her and... well, do whatever it took to fix all this.
Not the best plan he'd ever made, but he didn't exactly have any other options. Ominis was suffering, Anne was suffering, even his friend was asking after him in their letters, worried that Ominis had been acting strange.
Worse still, they'd shared concerns that Ominis had been engaging in suspicious behaviour. They'd done their best to delay an investigation by their Auror team into his activities, but even his Ancient Magic wielding friend was starting to doubt that Sebastian's letters were being sent by Sebastian, rather than Ominis himself.
He couldn’t let them find him imprisoned by Ominis, he knew nobody else would understand that Ominis wasn't at fault here. That Ominis wasn't just another villainous Gaunt, that Sebastian would die for Ominis and not out of some misplaced fear or brainwashing.
Ominis hadn't allowed Sebastian to be sent to Azkaban, and he was not about to let Ominis be either.
Yes! Sebastian hissed as he pried the chain loose from the wall. This wasn't the best way to escape, lugging his chains with him, but he'd exhausted every other method over the last few years and Ominis had made his cuffs impossible to remove months ago.
Plus, he'd studied Ominis’ patterns, and he wouldn't be home for at least two more hours today. Even if the elves or snakes attempted to subdue him, Sebastian would have more time to evade them or fight them off.
Sending a silent apology to Ominis, he shredded the silky bedsheets - again - and wrapped the chains in it so that they would remain silent. Well, as much as possible, at least.
Preparations ready, Sebastian lowered his pants and crouched before the door, cheeks on fire as he carefully removed the butt plug. His breath coming out hot at the sensation, and feeling almost mournful at the loss, as the slick fluid trickled out.
Catching some on his fingers, he quickly slipped the plug back in and pressed his finger on the pad of the lock, waiting for it to disengage, before wiping his hands and tugging his pants back on.
Hoisting his chains around his shoulders, Sebastian opened the door and slipped out. The hallway was dark, lit only by several brasiers lining the stone walls and he tried his best to be silent, as he snuck through the corridor, moving slowly past several more doors before finally reaching the stairs.
Swallowing, Sebastian began climbing, knowing that he didn't have a lot of time, and he was soon opening the door at the top of the stairs.
Poking his head out, he checked that there wasn't anyone in the corridor that the door led into. He'd gone right last time and ended up cornered by elves in the kitchen. So, he quickly made his way towards the left side this time, doing his best to move quietly through the halls draped in green and silver.
As he reached the end of the corridor, Sebastian was about to check around the corner, when a tall blond man stepped out from behind the bend. Fuck. Nothing for it then. At least it's not Ominis.
The man looked surprised to see him, understandably, and Sebastian knew that the next two seconds would decide if he managed to get past the stranger.
Grabbing the chain around his shoulder, Sebastian swung it at the man, hoping to stun him with it.
Unfortunately, the lanky man managed to dodge the swing, twisting to the side, and with a flick of his wrist, the man's wand was in his hand and Sebastian knew he was fucked.
“Incarcerous!” The man cast at him, and Sebastian found himself wrapped tightly in ropes on the floor with the wind knocked out of him.
Cursing under his breath, Sebastian struggled against his bindings, though he knew well how futile that was, and as a pair of polished black shoes entered his vision, he raised his head, looking at the blond man who'd captured him. He looked a few years older than Sebastian himself, and was dressed in opulent attire that looked like it was worth the entire cottage in Feldcroft.
“Well, well... and who might you be?” The man's voice was deep but raspy in a way that reminded Sebastian of Ominis’ and his gaunt cheeks bore some resemblance as well.
When Sebastian remained silent, the man stepped on the side of his face with a sneer that warped his features into a ghastly visage that was nothing like Ominis.
“If you'd like to keep your teeth, filth. I'd suggest you talk quickly.” The man hissed and Sebastian felt a pinch of fear, alongside his anger at being spoken to so demeaningly.
Swallowing, he bit out a quiet. “Sebastian.”
“And what, Sebastian, are you doing out here?” The man asked haughtily, lifting his foot to kick at the chains hanging from his cuffs, his narrow blue eyes spotting the Gaunt family crest on the silver bands. “Escaped, did you?”
Sebastian remained silent and then there was a vice-like grip in his hair, lifting his head off the floor while the man crouched to meet his gaze.
He hissed in pain as the man levelled on him an imperious gaze, demanding. “Who do you belong to?”
A strange feeling curled in Sebastian's stomach at the question, and he couldn’t help the heat that filled his cheeks as he muttered. “Ominis.”
The man's eyes widened, and a terrifying grin stretched across his face. “Is that so...”
“Ack!” Sebastian choked when the man stood, yanking his head up even further and began walking back towards the door he'd just left through, dragging Sebastian's bound body across the floor behind him.
There was a moment of fear - when Sebastian thought that the man would drag him down the stairs like this too - but the man simply cast a levitation charm at him and dragged him through the air instead, Sebastian's chains clattering across the floor.
Sebastian felt some relief that the man was simply returning him to his cell, the stranger was just terribly unnerving, but that soon turned to ice, when the man continued dragging him past his open cell door.
“Wait, that's-” Sebastian protested, and the man released his hair just long enough to slap him soundly across the face, with enough force to bring tears to his eyes.
“Don't speak unless you're spoken to.” He stated with an almost disappointed huff, and continued dragging Sebastian down the corridor.
Opening a different door, Sebastian was thrown into the dark room, and the levitation spell broke, dropping him onto the floor with a painful thud. The man swished his wand, and his chains shot upwards to coil around a bar attached to the ceiling, and the ropes around Sebastian's body vanished, leaving him strung up by his arms.
With a wave of his wand, the candles in the room lit, giving Sebastian his first proper view of the cell while the man closed the door behind him.
A chill ran down Sebastian's spine, the stone floor beneath his feet was caked with black rust, though the unmistakable stench of rotting blood made it easy to guess what was coating the floor under his bare feet. Gross.
To his right was a bed with dark red and yellow smears on its sheets, and in contrast, to his left, a table covered with a clean white cloth and an assortment of... tools. Chisels, scalpels, pliers and implements that he didn't even recognise, all neatly arranged on its surface, shiny and clean.
For the millionth time in his short twenty years, Sebastian found himself deeply - deeply - regretting his prior decisions. Clearly, this was a terrible day to have attempted an escape.
The sound of the man stepping closer was like a kick to the gut, and each tap of his shiny shoes felt like they were plucking Sebastian's nerves like guitar strings.
The man circled Sebastian a few times, and it felt to him, like being a butterfly pinned to a board, knowing his wings were about to be ripped off one at a time.
When he came to a stop and reached a hand towards Sebastian, the brunet couldn't help but flinch, making the man chuckle as he gripped Sebastian's chin firmly.
“So, this is my little brother's plaything. Hm, not as pretty as I expected, but I can see the appeal.” He turned Sebastian's face to the side so that his eyes caught the light.
He couldn’t help but glare at the man for his sickening tone and words, he felt like livestock, being examined for defects. This was one of Ominis’ older siblings then, that explained the physical resemblance and lack thereof in personality. What the fuck did he mean by ‘plaything’ anyway?
“Fascinating, five years and you've still got your fire.” The man murmured curiously. “I thought you'd be broken by now, my toys don't even last half a year.”
Oh, great, thanks for informing me, Sebastian thought to himself dryly, and Merlin’s beard, what the fuck was up with this freak's eyes-
“Tell me, little thing, why do you keep escaping?” He asked with a sickeningly sweet smile that gave him the chills. “What keeps your fire going?”
“Wha-” Sebastian spluttered, what kind of question was that? “None of your fucking business.”
The man's smile sharpened and he ran his thumb over Sebastian's lower lip, and it took the one brain cell screaming at him at the top of its lungs that it was a bad idea, for Sebastian to resist biting the finger off.
“Cute mouth, I'll grant, I bet it feels good stretched around a cock.” He chuckled and Sebastian felt his stomach turn in fear and revulsion. “Maybe later.”
Okay, he'd never thought the day would come when he would be in the position of damsel in distress, and Ominis, the dashing prince in shining armour, but Merlin was he ever in distress, and Sebastian really really wanted Ominis to come save him. Pride be damned.
Finally releasing his jaw, the man went to the table and Sebastian couldn’t help tugging uselessly at his chains.
“I'd answer if I were you. I'll do my best not to mark up my baby brother's little fucktoy. Wouldn't want him to get upset.” The man flashed him a smirk. “But I’m sure I have enough needles for each of those adorable freckles.”
Sebastian swallowed around the lump that formed in his throat, as the man held up a long and thin silver needle that glinted in the light. That looked painful. Hang on, did he say fucktoy!? Sebastian felt his face redden, had Ominis told his family he was fucking- okay. Bad time to be embarrassed, but Merlin's balls, he hadn't seen that coming.
Trying not to think about that, Sebastian asked instead. “What do you care? What's it to you?”
He needed context if he didn't want to accidentally make problems for Ominis here.
The man laughed as he returned with a handful of needles in one fist and twirling one in his other fingers. “Why, as his big brother, Marvolo, the heir of Slytherin, it's my duty to look out for our family's interests.”
Marvolo gave Sebastian a condescending smile. “I'm sure you won't believe me, but my dear little brother is a bit of a white sheep in our family and I'd like to know that he isn't being... lax. A team is only as strong as its weakest link, after all.”
Sebastian had a hard time holding in his snort. No kidding, Ominis was, indeed, nothing like these insane people. Though it sounded like big brother Marvolo here didn't think Ominis was conforming?
That was bad. Sebastian did want Ominis as far away from his sick family as possible, but not on their terms, that would be out of Ominis’ control and could go poorly. He knew the Gaunts wouldn't hesitate to discard Ominis in a manner that ruined him, for spurning them, and he hadn't had the chance to discuss an exit strategy with Ominis.
Because the stubborn idiot wouldn't even hear him out.
Sebastian would just have to do whatever it took to make sure Marvolo didn't doubt Ominis’ loyalty or usefulness to the Gaunts.
“So, I'll ask again, what keeps your fire burning? What does sweet little Ominis do with you?” Marvolo traced the sharp tip of a needle along Sebastian's collar, leaving a line across one of the bruises that Ominis had suckled into his skin. “Besides fuck that foul mouth of yours, of course.”
Sebastian winced as thick liquid began oozing from the cut, trying to think of an answer that would satisfy this freak without implicating Ominis. Not to mention, he also didn't want to reveal too much about himself, he didn't want this nutjob to track down his sister - or his Ancient Magic wielding friend - and make problems for them either.
Apparently however, the bastard had about as much patience as a two-year-old, and the next moment was filled with nothing but searing pain, as a needle was lodged quite firmly in the soft and sensitive flesh under Sebastian's clavicle.
“Fuck-” He cursed, gasping for air as his face scrunched up in agony, blinking back tears as he tried to endure the pain. This was nothing compared to the Cruciatus.
“Answer, or I'll add another to match.” Marvolo's mouth was stretched wide in a disgusting grin and Sebastian really wanted to vomit in his face, but decided not to, the sick fuck might actually like it.
“My- my sister, she's dying. I'm the only family she has left.” Sebastian forced out, before he could follow through on that threat.
A vague version of the truth, that was the best he had right now on such short notice. If he got too far from reality with his responses, Ominis might make statements that contradicted his story and draw further suspicion.
“Is that so?” Marvolo's face bore the most wax-figure expression of pity he'd ever seen, so much so that it was more unsettling to look at than the pain, and Sebastian decided to focus on that instead. “Tell me more, how did Ominis acquire a pet like you?”
“He- he promised he would help me cure her. Then he locked me up and- and forced himself on me.” Sebastian answered, it hurt to paint Ominis so vile, but this would make Ominis look good to Marvolo. If he had to, Sebastian would lie naked on the floor and fake getting raped by Ominis in front of the Gaunts to protect him.
Though he really hoped it wouldn't come to that.
“Did he now? Why, that's positively evil.” Marvolo exclaimed with a delighted smile - as expected - and Sebastian bit his lip to withhold a scream when the sadist absently removed the needle in his collar, before continuing. “Still, you're so poorly trained and it's hard to imagine my dainty little brother fucking. He was so pretty when I first saw him, that I thought I'd gotten yet another sister.”
A moment later, Marvolo flicked his wand and the chains went slack, lowering Sebastian to the floor and the freak kicked him down onto his knees, while his upper body remained hanging from his arms at an uncomfortable angle.
Drawing a dagger out of nowhere, he slashed it across Sebastian's hip in three places, ripping through cloth and skin to reveal his bare bottom as the tattered remains of his pants fell to the floor.
He hadn't been able to swallow his screams this time, and Sebastian wheezed for air as tears rolled down his cheeks, his body trembling violently as hot wetness trickled down the back of his thighs from the burning gashes Marvolo had left.
“Oh my, is that a plug?”
Sebastian tensed in horror, struggling uselessly to curl into himself - despite the chains preventing that - when he felt large hands prying his cheeks apart and then fingers pressing against the plug.
It felt so wrong having someone else touching him there, he wanted to vomit, Ominis help-
Almost as though summoned by his desperate plea, the door was suddenly thrown open and Ominis stood in the doorway, looking more furious than Sebastian had ever seen him. Which was saying something. His normally neat blond hair in disarray, out of breath as though he'd been running, cheeks flushed red and eyes practically glowing with anger.
Sebastian felt like he could pass out from relief, and it took everything in his power to stop himself from wailing Ominis’ name and begging for help. That would undo all his lies.
But who fucking cares! Ominis was here now, and Sebastian could only sob, wanting more than anything to be back in his arms, to feel Ominis’ gentle touch and hear his soothing voice. “Ominis...”
Notes:
The thing about overconfidence is that once it's broken, there's a tendency to swing aggressively to the other side. When you're so sure of something and then it turns out to be wrong, it can destabilise a person's psyche and Sebastian's break was pretty extreme. Even adults would struggle with such a hard hit to something they'd committed themselves to as much as Sebastian did.
The more you care, the more effort you give, the more you sacrifice, the more desperate you are, more hopeful you are, the harder you fall when everything falls through. The harder it'll ever be to be sure of yourself or of anything ever again.
Plus, Sebastian, from the way he doesn't seem to stay still for very long and how passionate he is, I'd say he's the kind of guy who needs a goal in order to take action, which makes him susceptible to Anhedonia; the inability to gain pleasure from previously enjoyable activities.
If I had to take a gander at what the boys have, at least in my interpretation, I'd say that Ominis shows signs of generalized anxiety disorder and C-PTSD, while Sebastian shows traits of depression, PTSD and separation anxiety.
People seem to forget that one can only see thestrals if you've seen someone die, not “seen a dead body”, it's “seen someone in the process of dying”. So Sebastian most likely saw at least one of his parents suffocating to death, and that's pretty traumatic for a kid.
Now, I know one could argue that he'd seen a goblin die or something, but from the way he said “...unfortunately...” when we asked if he could see them, and “It's certainly not something I'd hoped we'd have in common.” I don't think he'd sound so grim if he were talking about deaths he caused xP
And, it's not uncommon for depression to come with anger management issues, mood swings and erratic recklessness, which matches Sebastian's behaviour in the game. Unlike what popular media depictions would have you believe, not all expressions of depression are; hours spent crying, disassociation, and slit wrists. Reckless disregard for personal safety and self-destructive behaviour are also expressions of self-harm.
Like drug addicts and alcoholics, hurting themselves in pursuit of relief from the agony that is; being sane in an insane situation.
Considering that Sebastian seems to have been very attached to Anne, and their uncle obviously favours Anne and treats Sebastian poorly in contrast, due to Sebastian's resemblance to his father. Throw in the PTSD of witnessing his parents’ death, and Sebastian's mild depression was probably exacerbated by the separation anxiety and fear for her life.
If not for Anne getting cursed, I'd wager Sebastian's depression would have remained mild until he passed puberty and his brain chemistry stabilised. He's definitely past mild in game, since pretty much every NPC has noticed and Ominis himself expresses concern for Sebastian's condition, not entirely sure how far though. (Mild depression implies that the symptoms experienced don’t significantly interfere with usual activities, even if they’re distressing.)
Meanwhile, Ominis, despite what a lot of people seem to think, doesn't appear to have depression. Generalised anxiety would better explain Ominis needing to constantly cope via avoiding even thinking about anything that can cause it to worsen. It would explain why he doesn't visit Anne or help Sebastian find a cure for her, it's emotionally less painful to forget that she's dying. His behaviour in the Scriptorium is not indicative of depression, that looked closer to a C-PTSD response.
While Ominis could very well have depression as well, as many with C-PTSD do, we do not see indicators of such a condition during the game at least. He sleeps peacefully in History of Magic and despite the NPC comment about him being “depressed about being a Slytherin” I think it's rather obvious that that isn't a reference to clinical depression.
I should probably briefly explain the difference between PTSD and C-PTSD for any who are not familiar with the conditions;
PTSD is usually caused by a single traumatic event, such as a car accident or violence. C-PTSD is more commonly caused by prolonged or repeated trauma, such as childhood abuse or being in a war zone. Though the current DSM-5 doesn't distinguish between the two as separate conditions anymore, I think there are some distinctions that still make the differences helpful, at least for discussion amongst the layman.
An example of a PTSD response would be what I wrote Sebastian having (during his inner monologue), a singular traumatic experience that causes severe distress responses when triggered. We see in-game that Sebastian reacts with irrationally strong anger whenever he feels like someone is trying to prevent him from saving Anne, unstable and unregulated emotions making him lash out indiscriminately. Thus my rationale for his experience with his parents’ death.
Whereas Ominis’ equally irrational refusal to even consider helping to find a means of escaping the Scriptorium is a C-PTSD response due to his childhood prolonged abuse, which tends to also cause additional impacts like “changes in self-perception, such as feeling permanently damaged” or “changes in relationships, such as difficulty trusting others” which we see, with how Ominis sees himself as condemned because of what he was forced to do, and how he can't trust MC or Sebastian, and follows them after the Scriptorium and to the catacombs.
(And no, I'm not a medical professional, this analysis is mostly from my own experiences with all of the above, as well as discussions on psychology with my psychologist and my own research haha... I wanted to get a psychology degree but my disabilities and chronic pain got in the way of formal education x')
No one can stop me from learning anyway though mwahahaha!)
But yeah, what doesn't kill you does not - in fact - make you stronger, it just gives you trauma. Which is why I think any projection of post-HL must involve Ominis or MC providing Sebastian with support or Sebastian will just absolutely cave to major depression over time, like Powder and Jayce. There's so much similarity between these three characters lol
Though, clearly - in this fic - Sebastian did get some approximation of support. So, rather than his two brain cells being depressed, one is thinking of sex with Ominis and the other is worrying about saving Anne. Also, hopefully I managed to make Marvolo really creepy, and I do feel bad for hurting Sebastian so I went light with the torture, but hey, Ominis to the rescue!
Next chapter is... not gonna be fun for Ominis. To say the least.
In the wake of Solomon's death, Ominis decides that Sebastian cannot be trusted to make sound judgement and takes measures to ensure that Sebastian will present no danger to himself or others. Sebastian was lucky this time, the new fifth-year and Anne were willing to spare him, but the next time Sebastian crosses a line, Ominis might not be able to save him from death or Azkaban.
Ominis has practically lost Anne, he cannot lose Sebastian too, and he will do whatever it takes to protect Sebastian.
Even from himself.
Warnings: Sebastian x Ominis! Smut! Dubious consent (that is actually very consensual)! Post-canon! These idiots can't communicate to save their lives, but they'll get there by the end, I only write happy endings.
You can also read on AO3! (chapter specific warnings below)
Notes:
Warnings: Slightly dubious consent, and gay sex, a lot of it. Also, this is going to be pretty dark, so brace yourself.
While writing chapter 17 of It's My Own Design, during Ominis’ mental breakdown, my brain decided to spawn a world where the Keeper (MC) isn't there to reassure Ominis that Sebastian can be tamed, where the MC of that universe doesn't love Sebastian and doesn't serve as both translator and mediator between the two boys.
The result was a lot of porn, and this fic, I suppose.
It's just 4 chapters long and they're already mostly written, just got to add notes to them and finish the last bit of the epilogue, I'll be uploading them once a week, so please look forward to them! ;)
I swear I'm working on the next chapter of It's My Own Design, it's halfway done, another 5k+ words to go- I injured my dominant index finger and it got infected, so writing is a little annoying at the moment lol
The title's my favorite song from Linkin Park, the first verse fits this Ominis so well, and I can hear this Sebastian singing the second verse at Ominis xP
Also, have you heard the Arcane rendition? It is so good omg xD
Edit: Hey, I found a nice quote for this chapter =D
"We are more often frightened than hurt; and we suffer more in imagination than in reality."
~ Seneca
“Those are my terms.”
“Can't say I understand your choice of plaything, son. But I'm proud that you've come to understand and accept your place.”
“...do we have a deal?”
“How cold you are towards your loving family, tsk tsk.”
“Do we have a deal?”
“Hmph, very well. Welcome home, Ominis.”
The soft tap of footsteps echoed through the cold hallways, clattering across the stone. He hated this place, hated the stench of blood, the emptiness that stretched across the dungeons beneath the Gaunt estate. He could almost hear the mournful wails of the souls that had been stolen in this hell.
He hated it, all of it. Hated that he had to be here, hated that he'd had to put his most precious and treasured prize in this horrid place, but he'd made his choice. Chosen to play the role of the pure-blooded heir, all for him. For him.
Coming to a stop in front of one of the doors in the long hallway, he placed his thumb on the handle and felt a prick as the lock checked his blood, before disengaging.
Speaking gently, he pushed the door open slowly, not wanting to startle his beloved. “Sebastian.”
“O- Ominis...”
Ominis ignored the slight tremble in the brunet's beautiful voice - he must still have startled him - smiling sweetly instead as he greeted. “Good evening, Sebastian. I'm sorry I'm late today, the Minister was being more tedious than usual.”
“That's- Ominis, please, just let me-” The sound of metal rattling against itself reached his ears.
“Shh...” Ominis murmured, taking off his coat and hanging it on the rack, leaving his wand in the pocket as he kicked off his dress shoes and strolled across the plush carpet until he reached the bed. “Not tonight love, I'm tired.”
He reached forward, following the sound of shaky breaths to cup Sebastian's cheek, feeling the soft skin under his fingers, tracing them along the light scattering of stubble and running his thumb across the bags that had gathered under Sebastian's eyes.
“Did you eat today?” Ominis asked worriedly, concerned by how sunken the young man's cheeks had become over the last few years. He really needed to get Sebastian out of this hell hole, of course his parents’ dungeons weren't good for his bright and free-spirited partner.
“Ominis...”
Ah, he still leans into my touch, a soft smile spread across Ominis' lips, relaxing a tad at the reassurance. Still so sweet, trusting, he never changed, no matter what happened. He loved that about Sebastian.
“Ominis... is Anne still a-” The throat under his fingers flexed. “St- still... ali-”
“Have you eaten today?” Ominis interrupted, repeating his question again instead.
There was a long pause.
“I- yes. Or- well, tried, half.”
He frowned. “You need to try harder, if you do better, she might be persuaded to visit.”
A sharp breath under his palm. “Please- Ominis, I just need to speak with her, a letter, a howler, anything! I need to know she's still-”
“Hasn't forgiven you.” He cut in coldly.
And she never will, the dead could not change their minds after all.
The clang of metal told him how painful those words had been and Ominis felt a pinch of guilt, suppressed with practised ease. This was all for Sebastian's own good.
“It's okay, Sebastian.” Ominis murmured softly, taking him into his arms. “Even after everything you've done, I still love you. I'm still here with you. I will never leave you.”
He felt Sebastian cling to his dress shirt, wetness on his shoulder and sobs in his ear, and Ominis smiled, content to hold his precious sweet treasure.
He'd already lost Anne, he couldn't bear to lose Sebastian too. So, he'd done what he had to.
Months after Solomon's death, Sebastian's friend had approached Ominis to share their concerns with him, and as time passed, Ominis too came to understand that Sebastian would cease to be himself, if he stopped trying to save Anne.
That Sebastian would never forgive himself for not doing his utmost to prevent her death. That he would waste away and lose his light, and that they might as well send him to Azkaban for all the difference it would make. Sebastian was withering, and sparing him had not stopped his deterioration, only made him submit to this slow death without protest.
So, Ominis made sure that Sebastian could keep trying his best, but would neither harm others nor himself in his passion. Solomon's murder had made it clear to Ominis that Sebastian could not be trusted to make sound judgement, not while he was driven mad by fear for Anne's life. Ominis knew well how that felt, and he wished to spare Sebastian the need to think if he could.
The Gaunt family had no shortage of means to hold people prisoner, to make them disappear, and Ominis wasn't afraid to exploit that connection... now that he needed to.
It had been sickening, going back to his parents to grovel and plead for a chance to reclaim his position in the family, to become exactly what everyone expected when they looked at him. Just another inbred noble pure-blooded purist, just another corrupt ministry official in their broken government. Just another stooge of highborn aristocracy.
But it was all worth it, for Sebastian. To protect Sebastian from destroying himself, chasing an impossible dream. To protect his heart and grant Sebastian his wish to never experience the grief of losing Anne, to never have to bury her.
Ominis had sworn, as he stood in black amongst Feldcroft's residents early last year, that Anne would never die, she would live on in Sebastian's mind, in Sebastian's world.
Sebastian's selfless heart would never break, he would never know that she now lay beside the man he'd murdered, in the backyard of an empty house. He would go on fighting to save her, never changing, never losing that endless optimism that Ominis so envied.
He would never stop fighting, Sebastian would always be courageous and strong, but also safe and his.
Ominis pressed his nose against Sebastian's nape, trailing his fingers down Sebastian's arms, now slim with disuse, to touch the reddened skin of his wrists, raw and tender from pulling on his chains.
“Darling, I told you not to struggle too much.” Ominis sighed in disappointment, feeling Sebastian shiver against his body.
“I- it was in my sleep. I had a nightmare.”
“You poor thing. What was it about?” Ominis cooed, running his fingers through soft wavy locks, breathing in the soft scent of the bathing oils he'd given Sebastian to use, the same soothing lavender scent Ominis loved and applied on his letters, he smells like mine now.
“I- Anne... I dreamt that she-” Sebastian's voice became choked and he clung tightly to Ominis’ shoulders.
“I see, what an awful dream. I suppose that can't be helped.” Ominis pressed a kiss into his hair and lifted his head from Sebastian's shoulder. “Nobbs.”
The family house elf appeared beside the bed with a pop. “Yes, young master?”
“Fetch a wiggenweld potion.” Ominis instructed and the elf soon returned with the requested vial, before leaving when dismissed. He unstoppered the vial and poured it into his mouth, before setting the vial aside, thinking to himself that he really should stock some in the drawers.
He felt for Sebastian's cheek, held the young man by his jaw and pressed his lips to Sebastian's, feeding him the potion from his mouth and feeling the brunet's throat flex, swallowing against his thumb.
Even after the last drop of potion had slid down his throat, Ominis kept their lips pressed together, chasing the fluid with his tongue, slipping into Sebastian's mouth and coaxing his beloved to dance with him. Mapping out every inch like he hadn't memorised the shape of each tooth by now.
Even after five years, he could still barely believe that he could have this, have Sebastian.
It had not been three months after Ominis tric- convinced Sebastian to visit his family manor with him at the end of their fifth-year. After Ominis had caged his best friend in these dungeons.
The stubborn boy had been demanding that he be freed, shouting that he wasn't content simply searching for a cure in the forbidden books from the Gaunt library. That he needed his wand to attempt what he was reading, that he needed to go to Anne, needed to cure her.
Ominis had refused as always, Sebastian could read and research, and Ominis would acquire any tome he asked for, but he was not allowed his wand, nor would the seals on his cuffs allow him to use wandless magic. All the dark knowledge in the world would be harmless, as long as Sebastian couldn’t use any of it.
Sebastian had sobbed and screamed, fists tight in Ominis’ shirt as he begged Ominis to tell him why he was doing this. And in a moment of weakness, exhausted by the strain of conforming to his family and drained by continuously denying Sebastian, Ominis had spoken honestly.
“Because I love you.” He'd said with tears in his eyes. “And I can't bear to lose you.”
He'd expected Sebastian to push him away, to be disgusted and horrified that his captor was sexually attracted to him. Thought that he'd ruined any chance of reconciliation, that he would become the warden of a silent and repulsed prisoner. Though perhaps that would be less painful than the betrayed and hurt tone, with which Sebastian had been pleading for freedom every time he visited.
At least Sebastian would still be alive.
But instead, Sebastian's grip had loosened in his shirt, and then trembling fingers had touched Ominis' cheek, and Sebastian's voice cracked with trepidation. “You- Do you mean that?”
“...yes.” Ominis admitted, his tears rolling down his face, wet and cold. “I've always loved you. I'm sorry if it disgusts you, bu-”
Soft warm lips, tentative and uncertain were suddenly touching his own, and Ominis’ eyes had gone wide with shock. Is that- is he-
It'd felt like his heart would stop, frozen in disbelief, the world spinning around him, was that what he thought it was? He could feel Sebastian's breath against his cheek, nose pressed against his skin, Sebastian's hand now cradling his jaw gently, tenderly, as though he might break.
The moment felt like it lasted an eternity, before Sebastian broke the kiss, sounding uncharacteristically shy as he spoke. “I- I've also... always had feelings for you, I just never thought- and after what I'd done... I thought that you wouldn't... couldn’t possibly...”
Sebastian trailed off hesitantly and Ominis had surged forward, unable to restrain himself, now that he knew Sebastian returned his feelings. Years of loving the kindhearted boy, watching his best friend's bright soul become consumed by fear, anxiety, anger, and worst of all, his dangerous fascination with dark magic.
Wanting - longing - to hold him, to soothe him, to keep Sebastian safe from everything that had happened to him. Ominis had felt such joy, he'd finally done the right thing, thank Merlin. Imprisoning Sebastian hadn't been another dreadful mistake.
Ominis had pressed their lips together, hungry to taste more, to feel more, he'd pushed Sebastian onto the modest single bed that he'd placed in here for his childhood friend. Climbed onto the mattress, thinking that he would have to buy a larger bed, scrimp and save to make this prison more comfortable.
The ecstasy he'd felt was unimaginable, when Sebastian spread his legs for him. He'd grounded his hips against the hardness in Sebastian's pants, moaned at the sensation, filled with wonder that it was for him. That Sebastian was pawing at his chest and gasping against his mouth, soft keening sounds of pleasure and need escaping that delicious throat, and he'd nibbled at it, wanting to leave his mark.
Sebastian was his now, in every way.
He'd been clumsy and uncertain, Sebastian equally so, as they pulled at each other's clothing, eagerness making up for inexperience as he braced a hand against the headboard and palmed Sebastian's length, paying attention to the other boy's reactions as he tried to bring him pleasure.
How he'd come to love the way Sebastian gasped his name, when he thumbed at the sensitive crown of his erection and suckled on Sebastian's adorably pert nipples. The wonderful texture of Sebastian's skin under his tongue, between his teeth, the heat of his body, the way his best friend's length fit perfectly in his palm, an even better fit than his own.
He'd felt almost intoxicated by the sensation of their bare thighs pressed together, kissing his way up Sebastian's neck to find his panting mouth and steal his breath. He could almost forget the rattling of chains as Sebastian threaded his fingers into Ominis’ hair.
He'd never wanted to see so badly, than when Sebastian had come into his hand, the hot splatter of liquid against his arm, a last garbled moan of his name falling from his lips like a prayer. Even more so when Sebastian had then tentatively traced his fingers along the neglected tent in his pants and coaxed him onto his back, before mouthing at his hardness through the cloth.
Ominis could only bemoan his blindness and curse his incestuous ancestry as Sebastian tugged his erection free and curiously lapped at it, driving him mad with the thought that the soft wet heat laving over his sensitive crown was Sebastian's tongue.
When those soft lips parted, he couldn’t help but moan at the heat and wetness around him, sloppy wet sounds filling the room as Sebastian struggled to take his length in further, until he hit the back of his throat. It felt amazing, especially when Sebastian gagged on his erection, those hot and tight walls closing around him as the ambitious boy pushed himself past his limits.
He'd wanted to press in further, it felt so good, wanted to feel Sebastian's throat bulge with his hardness, but he didn't want to hurt his beloved, he should let Sebastian slowly become accustomed to taking his cock.
Already brought to the brink by the thought alone, he'd only gotten to enjoy the wet heat of Sebastian's mouth for a few moments, before he reached his peak, unable to resist gripping Sebastian's hair tightly as he came, holding the brunet in place and forcing his seed down his throat.
The sound of Sebastian swallowing was the most wonderful thing he'd ever heard, and Ominis knew that, now that he'd heard it. Now that he'd experienced this euphoria, he would need it again and again for the rest of his life. He would not be able to survive without Sebastian's body, without his warmth.
So, when Sebastian laid against his chest - the two of them basking in the afterglow, grappling with the change in their relationship - pleading once more. “Ominis, please, let me go. I'm already yours, I promise, you won't lose me.”
Ominis smiled faintly, pressed a kiss to Sebastian's hair and answered. “When I'm certain you won't endanger yourself or others, I will speak with Anne, try and convince her to hear you out. But until then, you must stay here, I can't trust that you won't do something foolish when I'm not able to mind you.”
He'd kept the truth silent in his heart, that now that he had Sebastian's love, he was more certain than ever that he would never let Sebastian go. Ominis would keep him here, safe, protected, his.
If only it were that easy.
This was Sebastian and, naturally, he couldn't simply wait obediently at home. Ominis had had many heart attacks over the last five years, whenever Sebastian attempted to escape his home.
He'd seemed wary, maybe even scared, of retaliation or punishment, each time Ominis or the house elves or even the family snakes, caught him and dragged him back to his room, but it never came. For Ominis loved Sebastian so much that - even while his attempts to escape were frustrating and upsetting - Ominis also found them quite charming and sweet.
Still fighting desperately to go save his sister, there was the wonderful selfless and persistent boy Ominis had fallen for as a child, long before he'd even known what love was.
Their friend had asked about Sebastian several times over the years and Ominis had passed along many letters to them for Sebastian. After having the elves double check that the letters contained no hint of Sebastian's situation, of course.
While Ominis was grateful to them for helping him protect Sebastian all those years ago, he didn't trust that their mysterious friend wouldn't attempt to free Sebastian, and Ominis hadn't quite forgiven them for getting between him and Sebastian back in fifth-year.
He wondered sometimes however, what they would think if they knew what had become of Sebastian, if they were to see him now. To see how pliant the cocky boy had become.
Ominis nibbled lightly at Sebastian's lips as he drew back, delighting in the shiver that rippled through Sebastian as he continued nipping along the young man's jaw. Trailing lower and tugging on the wavy curls at the back of his head, to tilt it back and expose more of that delicious skin.
A soft moan slipped through Sebastian's lips as Ominis mouthed at his Adam's apple, sliding his other hand down, to cup the half-hard length in his drawers.
“I- I thought you were tired-” Sebastian gasped as Ominis stroked him through the cloth, his words turning into a whimper of need when the hand left him.
“I'm never too tired for you.” Ominis chuckled, encouraging Sebastian to lie down on the bed while he began to unbutton his undershirt.
“How do you want me?” Sebastian murmured, the sound of cloth rustling as he shucked them hastily.
“I think I'd like you to bend over for me, how's that sound?” Ominis asked with a gentle smile.
“Sure.” Sebastian answered quickly, the word coming out breathless with arousal and Ominis chuckled fondly again, as he set aside his pants as well.
Trailing his fingers lightly along Sebastian's back, he delighted in the shivers and shudders it incited, as Sebastian arched into his touch, till his fingers came to the crack of his bum, and Ominis found it absolutely precious when Sebastian pressed back against the fingers swirling around his rim.
“Ominis...” Sebastian groaned when Ominis replaced his fingers with his erection, laying it over the crack and continuing to tease, letting his heavy length rub back and forth between Sebastian's cheeks, sticky pre-cum oozing from his tip at the sensation. “Please...”
Shuddering at the need in his voice, Ominis took pity on him and gathered the fluid at his tip on a finger, beginning to spread the slick around Sebastian's entrance. Who would have thought that the stubborn and proud boy would be such a needy lover? The few times when Ominis worried that Sebastian might feel coerced into making love with him were easily dismissed by how slutty the brunet was in bed.
In fact, the first time they'd tried penetrative sex, Ominis had - to Sebastian's surprise - offered to bottom.
“Are you sure?” Sebastian had asked, clearly trying not to sound too eager, his freckled cheeks warm under Ominis’ palm.
“Yes.” He'd replied, afraid of hurting Sebastian because he didn't know what being penetrated felt like.
So, he'd laid down on his back and spread his legs, and it hadn't taken any further convincing for Sebastian to follow, kneeling between his thighs, and Ominis had offered him a vial of oil he'd readied beforehand. They would have to do this manually, for he would not risk bringing his wand within Sebastian's reach.
Though Sebastian had later used the remaining lubricant to escape his confinement, at least he hadn't scrimped on the preparation, so Ominis had forgiven him for the slight.
“Tell me if it feels uncomfortable, alright?” Sebastian had murmured as he pushed a slick finger into Ominis and he'd nodded, trying to keep his body relaxed as Sebastian slowly worked him open.
It felt strange at first, but the warmth of Sebastian's searching fingers and the knowledge that it was Sebastian touching his insides, was enough to keep his excitement alive. That, and the way Sebastian had peppered kisses along his chest, murmuring praise as he worshiped Ominis’ body.
Ominis had never thought himself anything particularly special, physically, never had anything to compare to, but with the way Sebastian spoke... Well, Ominis was left wondering if Sebastian was insane or if he was actually the most beautiful person on Earth.
When Sebastian replaced his fingers with his erection, Ominis had gasped as the tip slipped into his body, feeling the painful stretch of his rim around the new intrusion.
The brunet had groaned as he inched forward slowly, length sinking deeper into Ominis body, Sebastian choking out in a strained voice. “Ominis- haa, you feel so good... never- never thought you would let me-”
Ominis’ heart felt like it would burst from his chest as Sebastian mumbled incoherently over him, delighted to be affecting Sebastian so deeply. Yes, become addicted to me, as I am to you.
The harsh panting - interspersed with moans - that fell from Sebastian's lips when their hips were finally pressed together were well worth the discomfort, and the idea of having Sebastian's seed in him made Ominis burn with desire. He wanted everything Sebastian had, everything that he was.
He'd pulled Sebastian close and whispered a simple. “If you're mine, make me yours too?”
He'd felt Sebastian's length twitch within him and with a heated groan, Sebastian's hips had snapped forward, bucking into him so abruptly that it'd forced a moan from Ominis, an unexpected burst of pleasure shooting through his veins when Sebastian bottomed out, that hard length inside his body pressing against something amazing, deep within him.
Of course, Sebastian would feel amazing, they were made for each other. They were two halves and, only when they were joined like this, were they whole. Ominis had dug his nails into Sebastian's back, groaning as his beloved rocked in and out of him with building desperation.
His toes curled with every thrust, feeling the strength and ardour that Sebastian was pouring into his body, it was indescribable. The dirty sound of their thighs meeting and heated breaths against his collar, the firm grip on his hips, as though he were actually just something that belonged to Sebastian, a means of chasing his pleasure.
Was this what Sebastian would feel?
The thought melted his mind and without a single touch to his bouncing length, Ominis came, the sticky heat of his seed spurting between their bodies as his mind went white with euphoria.
“Fuck, Ominis, so beautiful-” Sebastian babbled feverishly, and Ominis felt his cheeks flush at the praise. He had no idea what his expression looked like, but it was apparently enough to make Sebastian come, heat filling his insides and Ominis clenched around him at the sensation, he wanted every drop.
Sebastian gasped for breath as he ground his hips against Ominis for a few more moments, before slumping, bracing his weight on his arms, and Ominis could feel droplets of perspiration tapping on his chest.
Sebastian had slowly extracted himself and laid on the bed beside him, and Ominis had been quite displeased when he felt Sebastian's seed trickling out of him. He'd wanted it to stay, to become a part of him, and Ominis had resolved to find a way to do that. He'd known, after all, that he would be far more upset if his own seed didn't become a part of Sebastian when he took his turn.
Ominis smiled at the memory, as he pressed a kiss to Sebastian's shoulder, continuing to trace his fingers around Sebastian's entrance, around the butt plug that was still in him, spreading his pre-cum around the rim. Before gently tugging the plug free, a heated moan came from Sebastian as it slipped out of him.
“...I feel so empty.” Sebastian mumbled, and Ominis could hear the smile in his words.
“You greedy little thing.” Ominis chided with a fond chuckle, shaking his head helplessly. “You needn't worry, you won't be for long.”
Sebastian shivered and released a breathy moan as Ominis slipped his finger into his loose opening, pleased to find it still slightly slick from their last round in the morning, before leaving the bed for a moment to fetch a clean plate for the plug and collect lubricant from a drawer.
Returning to kneel between Sebastian's legs again, Ominis took a moment to blow lightly on Sebastian's cute pucker, making him jolt in surprise and complain with a whine. “...Ominis...”
“Yes?” He asked with amusement as he slicked himself up with the oil.
“Ugh, quit teasing and start fucking my brains out.” Sebastian grumbled, dropping his forehead onto the bed with a frustrated groan.
Chuckling again, Ominis positioned himself and leaned forward, draping himself over Sebastian's back and murmuring. “As you wish.”
He snapped his hips forward, and Sebastian moaned loudly when Ominis drove into him in a smooth motion, entire body shuddering from pleasure as the force of the thrust pressed Sebastian into the sheets, the tip of his length grinding against the brunet's prostate and making his toes curl.
Ominis sighed contentedly, it felt like coming home, back where he belonged, one with Sebastian, hot and tight, wrapped around him like a glove, a perfect fit. It had been impossible to find a plug that was comparable to his girth when fully erect, but Sebastian had never complained about the slight pain he must feel, so Ominis hadn't bothered to customise one.
Leaning forward, Ominis placed light kisses on Sebastian's back, lapping at the beads of sweat that had begun to gather on his skin. He loved Sebastian so much, everything about him was perfect, the way his chest heaved for breath and shuddered around Ominis’ length, a feast for his senses every time.
“Move, move, please-” Sebastian mumbled, fists clenching in the sheets, his pleas muffled against the cloth as Ominis started thrusting, slowly at first, to the delightful sound of Sebastian begging between gasps. “Moremoremore-”
Insatiable, Ominis thought to himself fondly, placing his hand over Sebastian's and entwining their fingers as he set a brutal pace, pounding into him. His soul singing with joy as he gave Sebastian what he wanted, wondering what Sebastian's face looked like, wishing he could see the brunet's expression as he fucked him so hard that Sebastian's mumbles sounded almost delirious.
The sound of their bodies meeting echoed through the room, mingling with Sebastian's moans, and Ominis groaned, his eyes slipping close, every thrust bringing him closer to the brink. It was so good, dragging his swollen cock along Sebastian's insides, he could do this forever and it wouldn't be enough, he wanted to paint his seed in every corner of Sebastian's body.
“Call for me, love?” Ominis murmured into Sebastian's ear, nipping lightly at its shell.
“Haa... O- Ominis...” Sebastian gasped, struggling to gather enough oxygen to speak between every thrust against his prostate, whimpering as he was driven into the sheets, desperately digging his toes into the bed as it bounced beneath him. “...Ominis- Omi-”
With a high moan, and the sound of the sheets tearing in Sebastian's grip, he came, sticky fluid dribbling onto the cloth from his hanging length as it began to soften.
“Tsk tsk.” Ominis sighed fondly, enjoying the way Sebastian rippled and spasmed around him. “You know these sheets aren't cheap.”
“S- sor- ahn-” Sebastian panted against the sheets, choking on the words as Ominis continued to thrust into him, writhing in blissful agony as his oversensitive prostate continued to be battered, his knees giving out under him.
“What a selfish little thing, coming without me.” Ominis shook his head as he removed himself momentarily, to roll Sebastian onto his back.
“Sor- sorry-” Sebastian muttered, sounding completely out of it.
Ominis chuckled, wondering if Sebastian even really knew what he was apologising for, as he hooked Sebastian's legs over his shoulders and sank back into Sebastian's body, making the brunet jolt and whine.
“Hnnng- Omi- too mu-” Sebastian choked as Ominis began thrusting again.
“Just a little more, darling.” Ominis cooed, tracing his fingers teasingly over Sebastian's soft length, delighted when Sebastian tore at the sheets further with another whine, his back arching and insides clamping down on him as Ominis sought his peak with more urgency.
Pushing once more into that velvety hot heaven, Ominis felt the dam burst, groaning, as he poured his seed into Sebastian and continued to fuck him with slow lazy thrusts, pushing his cum deeper into Sebastian's body as Ominis worked every last drop into him.
Sebastian panted heavily, shuddering while Ominis wandlessly Accio-ed the butt plug from its plate on the bedside table. Continuing to hold Sebastian's legs up on his shoulders, as he inched out slowly to avoid spilling any of his seed, and slipped the plug back in in his place.
Now safely stoppered up, Ominis lowered Sebastian's legs to the bed and tiredly laid himself down beside the brunet with a contented sigh, happy when Sebastian immediately latched on to him for a cuddle. He was so precious, especially after sex.
The two simply laid together for several minutes on the torn sheets, sticky but sated and comfortable, catching their breaths, before Sebastian asked tentatively. “Ominis...”
“Yes, Sebastian?”
“...why haven't you changed the lock?”
“You mean after you used my seed to escape?” Ominis asked dryly.
“...yeah...”
“Because I'd rather risk you getting out, than someone getting in while I'm away.” The unspoken reminder that Sebastian was quite helpless, chained and without magic as he was, lay heavy in the air between them.
“Someone?”
“...you needn't trouble yourself, that's my responsibility.” Ominis answered simply, pressing a kiss to Sebastian's forehead.
Yes, it was his responsibility, his duty to keep his greatest treasure safe. From more than just Sebastian himself, for Ominis wasn't the only one living in this manor, or using these dungeons.
His older brother had been asking to see Sebastian since Ominis came home, saying that he was curious what pretty toy would matter so much to his rebellious little brother, that he would finally become so subservient to their parents. Well, hell would sooner freeze over than for Ominis to let his sick and slimy brother anywhere near his Sebastian.
Ominis just needed a bit more time to build his own wealth and power, and he could only hope that their parents would live till he could move out with Sebastian. Take him far out of anyone else's reach, far away from this dark place. Before Marvolo became the head of the Gaunt family.
Only then would Sebastian truly be safe.
Notes:
Did ya'll catch all the lines I worked in from the game? I love doing that, and don't worry, the dubious-consent is gonna be flipped to completely consensual next chapter (at least in regards to the sex), which is written from Sebastian's perspective xD
Though, that doesn't change the fact that both boys are mildly unreliable narrators and Ominis is doing some big irl yikes here. Don't worry, they get a happy ending! I love happy endings.
Though I do want to talk about that a bit, my reasons for thinking that this is a possibility to begin with, and why what Ominis is doing is still ultimately wrong. Even if we can understand why he's doing it.
We see from the questline that Ominis deals with fear and anxiety by distracting himself, by pushing responsibility to other people, by giving the job of Thinking to others, and trying to maintain the status quo.
Allowing MC to manipulate him, even saying “I see what you did there” outside the Scriptorium, and letting MC cast the Imperius curse on him. Which, bro, if you give me permission to force you, you might as well step aside yourself. It's the same.
He gives the best friend duty of supervising, and supporting Sebastian, to a stranger who has known Sebastian for less than a year. He says he might be ready to sacrifice his friendship with Sebastian but shows that he isn't. Even at the end, he can't bear to take responsibility for choosing Sebastian's fate, giving that to MC.
He's also manipulative, we see that from how his first response to pretty much every problem is coercion. Threatening to use his family connections outside the Undercroft, his first response to Anne getting Solomon, being to go and manipulate the headmaster into not believing Solomon. Not to mention trying to guilt trip Sebastian a bunch through the story.
Understandable, of course, considering his shit family and upbringing, but it's an undeniable reality.
(And yes, Ominis' negative traits got worse because Sebastian got severely depressed after the end of the questline.)
Despite all this, of course, Ominis needs Sebastian, even though his instinct after his parents’ abuse is to run from fear, to close his eyes and cover his ears, to avoid having to choose because choice comes with regret, he loves Sebastian enough to follow him to the catacombs, to try and save Sebastian from the dark magic he sees as evil because his abusive family uses it.
In contrast, Sebastian copes with fear by action, by trying to take his fate into his own hands and charging head first into the face of danger like a berserker. Recklessly. Kind of like Korra in the first season, prematurely confronting Amon because of her fear and anxiety.
Both coping mechanisms are bad for different reasons. But they're also very distinctly different, and actively conflict with each other. Which is why they're fun to write.
Though I do think Sebastian's cope method is still better despite its self-destructive element, because if you point that effort in the right direction with proper guidance, it actually gets things done, more than sticking one's head in the sand and maintaining the status quo, you know?
For readers of my main ongoing HL fic series, you'll recognise the next bit but bear with me xD
In my humble opinion, the one commonality between every single type of love, platonic, romantic, familial, friendship and camaraderie and everything in-between, is “I don't want this person to suffer.” Now, the one stumbling block that a lot of people trip over is that the “suffer” should not be your own definition of “suffering”, it should be their definition of “suffering”.
The problems arise when you try to protect someone from what you personally think is the “worst suffering”, and put them through their “worst suffering” in the process. That's what Ominis is doing, and what Solomon did with Sebastian too, and we all know how that turned out.
(Don't worry, this won't go the Solomon way because, unlike that immature egotistical asshole, Ominis actually loves Sebastian and puts him first.)
So, anyway, my point is that if you love someone, find out what their “worst suffering” is, and try to remember to protect them from their “worst suffering” and not your own, when you naturally, as a result of love, try to protect them from suffering.
If you don't, well, then you're not protecting them at all. You're hurting them.
And I hope it goes without saying that you shouldn't lock up your partner like Ominis did. Ominis was raised by abusive criminal racists in the 1890s in a war-torn country where slavery is legal. We don't have the same excuses. Unless you do, in which case, I am deeply sorry for you and hope this gives you a different perspective to consider.
All that aside, I hope you enjoyed the porn and feels, brace for more, Ominis is gonna need one hell of a wake up face-full of cold water to get out of his current mentality.
Ominis fought to control his expression, to keep his hands from trembling. Five years. Five years since he'd seen his parents, and this. This was the reason they'd given him the honour of their time? This was the reason they'd sought him out at Hogwarts?
The bitterness welling up within him was thick enough to gag on.
New year, new allies, new responsibilities, new avenues of revenue, and new aspects of their own Ancient Magic to explore. As the Keeper and their partners enter their last year at Hogwarts, it remains to be seen if the new school year will bring with it new problems or adversaries, but they are confident in the strength of their relationship with Sebastian and Ominis. The three of them would endure, no matter what befell them.
And if they were wrong?
What a joke, they would suffer no alternative.
Warnings: Sebastian x MC x Ominis! Drug Addiction! Spoilers! Slow-burn corruption! Dark content! Fucked up 1800s orphanages! MC has no love for Anne or Solomon! Dubious happy ending (it's happy for MC, Seb and Ominis at least).
You can also read on AO3! (chapter specific warnings below)
Notes:
Warnings: Depictions of death and poor living conditions, and a very very very unreliable narrator that uses a lot of slurs and vulgarities x’)
Almost 10.7k words, good lord, it's supposed to be going down not up! TvT
I'm sure, last chapter, the emotional drama took the front seat strongly enough to overshadow Tobbs’ owner being put up on the chopping block, but I hope ya'll were excited for some torture of the man responsible for what was probably the darkest quest after Sebastian's Shadow questline.
Also, I know the Romani people were referred to during the 1890s with the slur “gypsies”, due to the misconception that they were from Egypt, but there’s already going to be a lot of very disgusting sexist slurs in this chapter too, (I deeply apologise for that in advance OTL) so I didn’t use the word gypsy. Please forgive the historical inaccuracy there, but I feel really gross after writing so many slurs and I didn’t want to put one into the Keeper’s mouth too.
Also, this chapter's end notes are monstrously long.
Now, I usually say you can skip my notes, but for this chapter and the next, please read the end notes. I do not want these two chapters misunderstood.
Aaand I'm about to be absolutely swamped so I'll need to skip an upload again. My next two weeks are completely full- x’)
So, the next chapter will go up in 4 weeks time! Sorry!
“If I'm reading this right, we should take that path a mile further.” Sebastian lowered the map that he'd been scrutinising and gestured towards a rather dark and dirty alley, just off to the side of the road.
Nodding, the Keeper turned their gaze from the rather beautifully designed, snow coated park in the middle of the bustling city and led Sebastian down into the alley. So far, what they'd seen of Edinburgh's Princes Street Gardens had been quite lovely, but from the looks of this alleyway, the Rogue guild was situated within the Old Town, in other words, the slums.
Unsurprising in all honesty, their line of work did best in the shadows and in the wake of suffering.
The Old Town slums themselves were... not so different from what the Keeper was used to, back in London. While the buildings were much older, taller and a bit less disorganised than the haphazardly scattered houses in their hometown, the atmosphere was remarkably nostalgic in the worst possible way.
The black sludge of sticky ash mudded snow clung to their boots and dragged at the hems of their cloak, visible even under the late afternoon light. While it was some mercy that the cloud of smoke in these slums wasn't quite as suffocating as London's, each breath still came with the burning remnants of open fires, and they could hear Sebastian coughing every so often.
Between the accompanying stench of rotting dung, flesh and water, and streets littered with the ill and the poor, the Keeper was quite glad to have placed a sticking charm on their satchel, to keep it attached to their side. They would hate to drop it into the filthy muck or have it stolen or pickpocketed.
As they walked, Sebastian seemed to become increasingly horrified by the conditions, and his steps soon halted, staring at what appeared to be the frozen corpses of four children tucked in an alcove between two buildings.
Noticing this, the Keeper backtracked to stand by him. “Sebastian?”
“Is no one going to...” Sebastian murmured, casting his incredulous gaze about the street, watching as a hazy eyed man stumbled past with a bottle in hand, not even blinking at the sight.
“Love.” The Keeper placed a hand on Sebastian’s shoulder, drawing his gaze as they spoke. “We shouldn't linger. Not in a place like this.”
Sebastian's eyes were dark and almost haunted as he stared at them, and it was easy to guess what was on his mind.
“Don't think about that.” The Keeper shook their head. “I'm alive, I'm here.”
“...you lived like this... for fourteen years.” Sebastian's jaw was tight, and his brow furrowed.
“And I'd rather forget it.” The Keeper chuckled wryly.
“Can you?”
“I can try.” They shrugged. “Come on.”
The Keeper continued down the path but had only taken a few steps when a woman with heavy makeup, and far too little clothing for this weather, sidled up to Sebastian's side, cooing sweetly. “Left on your lonesome, handsome? I know how to take care of a young gent like you.”
Sebastian stood stiffly, as her shoulder brushed up against his, a look of consternation on his face, and the Keeper huffed irritably, vultures the lot of them, though this presented a fine opportunity.
“I-” Sebastian stepped away from her with a guilty expression.
“Am taken.” The Keeper finished for him, approaching the prostitute. “But I have a counteroffer for you. Have you seen this man ‘round these parts?”
The Keeper presented her with the photo of Frederick Taylor that their contractor had provided, having already folded the picture to hide the house elf.
The prostitute squinted at the frozen image for a thoughtful moment. “Think so, looks rather familiar. Might have seen the bloke entering that odd pub down the road a time or two.”
“The Rowdy Rogue?” The Keeper asked as they tucked the picture away.
She nodded. “Aye, tha'd be the one.”
“My thanks, here's a small token of appreciation.” Nodding, the Keeper fished a handful of muggle pennies out of their satchel, that they'd prepared for information gathering, and dropped them in her hand. That should be enough to pay for a few meals and perhaps even a coat.
Taking the money with a delighted smile, she winked. “Should you be wantin’ anythin’ else, don't be a stranger, love.”
With that, the prostitute sashayed past the Keeper, running a hand down their arm meaningfully as she left.
Snorting, they returned their attention to Sebastian, who still looked troubled. “What is it, Sebastian?”
“You-” His voice cracked. “Did you have to do that too?”
“Proposition strangers?” They asked and he gave them a discomforted nod. “Not quite, I was already...”
A bitter smile stretched across their face.
“...property when I started that, well, line of work.”
The look of pain on his face caught them off guard, and in the next moment, the Keeper found themselves in his firm embrace. They could feel his hands tremble, gripped tight around their shoulders, his chest warm against theirs and his breath shaky by their ear, warming their cheek and rising in a plume of white.
Was it anger? Sorrow? Fear? They wondered what he was feeling, stroked a hand over his hair soothingly, while he clutched at them as though they too would dissipate like vapour if he let go.
Several minutes passed this way, before his grip finally loosened and they touched his cheek gently. “Feeling better?”
He nodded mutely, before his gaze returned to the bodies of the children. “I know we have work to do, but can we do something for them?”
The Keeper gave him a fond, if bewildered smile, what a strange thing to say. The children were dead, what could the living possibly do for those that were no longer here?
“I don't see why not, but what have you in mind?” They asked, when they failed to think of anything.
Sebastian cast his eyes about with an uncertain frown. “...it's cold out here.”
Cold? They were dea- ah, I see. Understanding, the Keeper nodded. “Of course. I don't think we can bury them in the middle of the city, but I can spare them the indignity.”
When he nodded, they glanced about to make sure no one was watching, before taking a sip of energy from their armlet and, drawing their wand, the Keeper cast a high-powered Evanesco at the bodies of the children, vanishing them in a flash of red.
“Were that we could do more.” Sebastian murmured grimly as they holstered their wand again.
“Some problems can be alleviated by the kindness of the privileged and the common people, but such on this scale can only truly be resolved by kings. Alas, we are neither kings nor kingmakers.” The Keeper shook their head and took Sebastian's hand in theirs. “Come, it does little to carry the burdens of others, when doing so doesn't lighten it for them.”
Nodding again, Sebastian allowed them to pull him from that place, as the snow began to fall, covering the empty spaces with a fresh layer of white.
Their walk continued in subdued silence for several minutes more, before they arrived at a rather respectable looking establishment. No surprise, considering that its clientele were wizardkind, rather than the impoverished muggles that populated this part of the city.
The note Alasdair had given them listed the Rowdy Rogue's opening hours from ten in the night till six in the morning, but the Keeper was, again unsurprised, that it was open anyway, since it likely had a regular business outside guild hours. Much like how the Phantom's Flask was an inn during the day.
They'd originally intended to just scope out the place before coming back in the night, but if the target conveniently frequented the bar, they might as well ask around.
So, they pushed open the rustic door and slipped inside with Sebastian, finding said inside to be just as rustic in decor. Not unappealing, but they much preferred the Phantom's sleek design. Their chosen chair squeaked as they took a seat, and the Keeper wondered why so many of them looked new, while the rest of the furniture appeared as old as the building.
And why were the tables bolted to the floor?
“Hey.” Sebastian tugged on their sleeve. “Well, would you look at that.”
He gestured across the sparsely populated pub, to the waitress, a woman who looked incredibly familiar, frowning intently down at a notepad. None other than the woman who'd survived her stint as a guest of Dìon. The first, and likely, last.
The Keeper chuckled. “Well, I'll be damned. Who would've thought we'd meet her here, of all places.”
“And isn't that the man who found her?” Sebastian nodded at the middle-aged bartender as he poked the woman in the arm, startling her out of her focus and nudging her towards the Keeper's table encouragingly.
“Looks like.” The Keeper agreed, wondering if the bartender was guildmaster Gilfred, as the familiar waitress came to their table.
“...hi, it's um, been a while since we've had someone new here, w- what can I get you? Butterbeers or- or perhaps something to eat?” The waitress asked with a nervous smile, an earnest air about her that made her look younger than they'd ever seen, or perhaps simply more innocent.
“Butterbeers would be sufficient, we're looking for someone actually. Frederick Taylor, I have something to pass to him.” The Keeper answered. “He mentioned coming here when last we spoke, so I was hoping we'd be able to find him if we dropped by.”
“Fred? Yeah, he's a regular, comes by for dinner and drinks sometimes. If you stop by around five tomorrow, he'll probably show up.” The woman nodded absently, before scurrying back to the bar counter without another word.
She spoke with the bartender, who gave her a fond smile and said a few words, before passing her a pair of full mugs.
Returning to Sebastian and the Keeper, with their drinks, she gave them another nervous smile. “You sure I can't tempt you with something to eat? James makes the best fish and chips south of Nor Loch.”
“James?” Sebastian echoed, a wry and bemused smile on his face as he and the Keeper accepted their mugs.
“Yes, the, erm, bartender, he sort of owns this establishment.” The woman gestured vaguely towards the bartender and the Keeper hummed thoughtfully. They supposed that while Alasdair was both owner of the Phantom's Flask and guildmaster of the Phantoms, that wasn't necessarily the case elsewhere.
It might not be a bad idea to hang around a little longer, even if it was already six. Sebastian could probably use a break from the bleak setting outside the pub, and they'd already acquired a means of finding their target, they might as well ask some questions and see what they could find out.
Besides, they were admittedly a tad curious what the woman was doing with her second life.
“Why not, we can share a plate. How long have you been working here?” The Keeper asked, taking a sip from their mug. They were well aware how long she'd been here, but it felt like a reasonable question for a stranger to ask.
“Not very long.” She answered, her eyes soft and a more natural smile forming on her face, and it felt rather surreal to see such a pleasant expression on the previously sour-faced woman. “I started working for James here about a year ago, he helped me out ‘n took me in when I was at my lowest in... well, I suppose, in memory.”
The Keeper just barely managed to avoid inhaling their butterbeer, but Sebastian was less lucky and spent the next few moments coughing.
“Everything alright here, Eliza?” Came a deep voice from behind the woman, and the bartender, who the Keeper could have sworn was at the bar a moment ago, appeared, giving her a concerned smile.
“I- yes, um.” The woman, who it seemed had taken on the name Eliza, shifted awkwardly on the spot and a blush crept up her neck.
“We were just curious about the pub and my boyfriend swallowed down the wrong pipe.” The Keeper chuckled, and now Sebastian was going red too.
James gave them an amused smile. “Happens to the best of us, if you'd like some water, just let us know. As for the pub, it's been in the family for years. My younger brother, Gilfred, handles the place during the night.”
So, the guildmaster was a younger sibling, interesting. The Keeper had thought it normally the case for the eldest to inherit family trades, though they supposed the brothers could have had different interests, and their parents had respected that. It was always kind of nice to see people who had nice families, assuming that was the case.
“I think some water would be appreciated.” The Keeper nodded. “Eliza was just telling us about your renowned fish and chips, and I think we can share a plate.”
“Wonderful! I assure you that you won't regret it!” James beamed, placing a gentle hand on Eliza's shoulder and whispering in her ear. “Nice work.”
“T- thank you...” She lowered her head till he'd turned away, and watched him with an adoring smile as he returned to the bar counter, before she seemed to remember herself and returned her attention to their table. “Um, I'll go get some water.”
Eliza scurried off again and Sebastian let out a sigh, drawing a curious glance from the Keeper. “Alright there, love?”
“Yes, it just- it feels rather silly. She's got a second chance, and she isn't just going for it.” Sebastian rolled his eyes. “Life's too short to be dancing around when he seems to like her too.”
“Says the one who pined after Ominis for three whole years.” The Keeper snorted and his face went red again. “Besides, she was a recluse, raised alone in the woods. Even after her memory got wiped, I doubt it'd magically make her good with people.”
“Well, Ominis is different-” Sebastian paused as Eliza returned with a cup of water for him as well as a plate of freshly fried fish and potato strips, before continuing when she'd left. “I mean, I didn't want to push, he was really awkward at first. Like her I guess... and he did say he fell in love earlier than me.”
Sebastian's expression became thoughtful, and he took a drink of water to flush his throat before continuing. “I wonder why he didn't turn out all surly like she did. It's not like his family was good. In contrast Eliza seems to have loved her father a lot, so I doubt he was a shit dad.”
“There's probably more than just nurture and environment that play a role in determining a person's personality as they grow up. Nature has an impact too.” The Keeper murmured as they set to cutting up the fish. “His blindness is a sensory experience that his family doesn't inherently understand, so unless they care enough to try, communicating with him would be more difficult.”
“Making brainwashing him harder.” Sebastian nodded, popping a chip into his mouth. “I guess it would have the same effect if the parents were just too busy to guide the kid, maybe that's what went wrong with Eliza, her dad was her only caregiver after all.”
“Seeing bad things happen to good people can make a person bitter too. As would seeing people continuously get away with evil deeds.” The Keeper gave a wry smile as they speared a piece of fish on their fork and offered it to him.
At his curious tilt of the head, they elaborated. “Eliza might have become disillusioned and ceased to believe that there are reasons to be good or kind. While Ominis, powerless as he was and regretful of his casting of the Cruciatus, longed to believe that there is an inherent universal law that actions always have consequences. That his family would also come to regret what they'd done. That there is a justice that comes about naturally.”
Sebastian accepted the bite as they spoke, enjoying the crunchiness of the fried batter and the rich flavour as he thought back to Ominis’ behaviour yesterday.
“And that's why he believes in things people ‘should’ and ‘shouldn't’, and justice but never actually does anything to bring said justice about. He thinks it'll just happen on its own, like a force of nature that ought to be.” Sebastian paused. “I think there's a word for that, Amit called it ‘karma’.”
“Is that so... Well, yes, and that's also why Ominis doesn't want the people he loves to do bad things.” The Keeper added, taking a bite of the fish as well. “After all, karma will fuck you up if you do ‘bad shit’.”
Sebastian sighed. “So, he'll never really do anything about injustice, because he thinks he can’t make any difference even if he tried, but still be anxious about those he loves doing ‘bad’ things.”
“Indeed, and such anxiety piles up, till he can’t help but lash out towards said loved ones and hurt them. Though I'm not entirely certain where his confidence in karma comes from. Normally one would instead think the opposite, after seeing his family get away with so much use of dark magic.” The Keeper gave him an amused smile when Sebastian opened his mouth in demand for more food. “Perhaps his idea of good and bad might be influenced by his aunt Noctua's beliefs - whatever they were - since she was the one who was kindest to him.”
Happily accepting another bite, Sebastian nodded absently. “Could be, I wonder if that's why he seemed to open up to Anne. She was always rather outspoken for a Slytherin, kind of like Natty.”
“Oh?” The Keeper's head tilted to the side curiously, wondering as they continued to eat and feed him occasionally, if Sebastian knew that she was supposed to have been a Gryffindor.
“Yeah, it was a month after school started, a bunch of our older housemates were bullying a half-blood and goading Ominis to join them. Anne charged over to stop them.” Sebastian explained with a grin, recalling the moment fondly.
Come on, surely the heir of Slytherin knows some good curses!
Show us what you've got, Gaunt!
...I'd really rather not...
Hey! You three, cut that out or I'll tell Professor Sharp!
Ha! A first-year wench wants to fight us?
How cute... heh heh...
Oi! Touch my sister, and I'll put you lot in the infirmary!
“Though, a prefect came along and somehow or other, we all got a detention for fighting. We served it with Ominis, and he became our friend after that.” Sebastian chuckled, recalling how offended the shy and quiet Ominis had looked, at Sebastian’s first thoughtless comment.
I'm surprised you didn't go along with them, didn't think you'd have the balls for that.
...I find that type of thing abhorrent...
Ah- what I mean is, I- well, I thought it was pretty brave. Not letting them push you around.
...brave? Me?
Y- yeah, you're normally so quiet. Not- not that that's bad, it's, well-
It's nice to have someone else in this house who hates bullying! I'm Anne, and this bumbling oaf is my twin brother, Sebastian.
...Ominis...
“He was so pretty and shy, it was all I could do to not trip on my tongue when we first started hanging out.” Sebastian laughed, accepting another bite from the Keeper before continuing. “Anne had to do most of the work getting him to relax around us at the start.”
“How'd he end up staying with you in Feldcroft?” The Keeper asked curiously, having wondered about that for quite a while.
“It was a bit of an accident. We were waiting for Anne to join us, and he just seemed so depressed about going home for the winter holidays, I kind of blurted out an invitation before I could think it through.” Sebastian grinned sheepishly. “Anne chewed me out for doing that before getting permission from Solomon.”
Sebastian! You can't just say that, what if Uncle Solomon says no?
Well, he can suck a-
Sebastian!
...it's fine, Sebastian, I don't want you to get in trouble for me...
You're worth it.
...!
I'll do whatever Uncle Solomon wants if he'll let Ominis stay.
Ugh, I'm not helping you if Uncle gets mad that you went over his head again.
“I got my uncle to agree in the end, after a long lecture about who owns the bloody cottage. Had to agree to do all the yard work for the entire holiday.” Sebastian rolled his eyes. “Probably helped that Ominis was quiet and obedient, and his parents sent him more money than he needed, so Solomon never had to pay for him, even when Ominis finally decided that he was never going back."
...Sebastian, could you- could you read the letter for me?
Er, you sure, Ominis? Al- alright...
Well? What did his parents say, Seb?
Um... well, they say that, if he's not coming home... to at least dress as fitting for one of the noble House of Gaunt... so as not to bring shame to the family name...
Are you serious, Sebastian? That's all they said? Ominis refuses to go home and that's all they have to say? What awful parents! How could they!? Terrible people! Aaaarrgh! Don't they care about him!?
...
It's fine, isn't it? You don't need them, Ominis. You have us. Anne and I, we're your family now.
...!
He still remembered how Ominis had felt, tiny fists in his shirt, tears in those beautiful pale eyes, trembling in his arms. Almost seven years ago and again yesterday morning. The more things changed, the more they also stayed the same, it seemed.
I- Sebastian... thank you.
The Keeper gave him a wry smile, inviting Ominis without permission and just barrelling through everything in his way, how very like Sebastian. “I imagine spending time around your uncle probably cemented Ominis’ simplistic ideas of right and wrong.”
Sebastian snorted, his voice slightly bitter. “No kidding, I guess Anne did too.”
“You certainly didn't, any ideas why that might be?” The Keeper asked curiously.
Sebastian wore a thoughtful expression for a few moments. “Maybe it's because I read our parents’ books.”
“Books?”
“Yeah, they were professors, and they published a few research journals on the origins of magic before the accident.” Sebastian beamed proudly, before it became sad. “We were eight when they died... Anne found their books too difficult and painful to read, but I wanted to understand them better.”
“So you studied so that you could appreciate their lives’ work.” The Keeper chuckled, that explained a lot.
“I suppose you could put it that way.” He grinned. “They were convinced that all magic was born from the same source, and it was the will of wizardkind that shaped it.”
“Sounds reasonable, Fig said something similar too. Magic is no different from any power, what matters is the one who wields it.” The Keeper mused as they fed him the last chip. “That's why it matters who is given power, more than the power itself.”
“Exactly.” Sebastian nodded, chasing the strip of potato with the rest of his butterbeer. “Uncle Solomon didn't agree though, he fought with dad a lot over that. Heard them arguing once when I couldn't sleep, something about their research being useful to the Aurors. I don't really remember why, but I think dad didn't want to give it to them.”
“Considering how shit the ministry is, I'm not particularly surprised.” The Keeper snorted as they finished their mug too. “Your parents sound like they were wise and brilliant people.”
They smiled when his face lit up. “Like you.”
Cheeks flushed with happiness, Sebastian grinned. “Never thought anyone would ever call me wise.”
“Wisdom comes with growth, and I think you've done a lot of it in the last few years.” The Keeper chuckled, waving Eliza over to pay for the meal. “Thank you for the recommendation, Eliza, the food was lovely.”
The woman wore a delighted smile as she accepted the coins and waved the two off. “Hope to see you again!”
The windows of the Rowdy Rogue were closed and there was no indication that the establishment was even open, aside from the occasional rugged looking individual entering or leaving. Under their hood, the Keeper glanced about the dimly lit street, the few lamps barely illuminating the dirty floor beneath their feet.
Slipping their Phantoms mask over their face, the Keeper entered the building and was immediately struck by how loud it was. Unlike the Phantom's Flask, the tavern was brightly lit, and in place of low murmurs were shouts, full-belly laughs and the occasional cheers as patrons exchanged bets over a pair, arm wrestling at one of the tables.
Rowdy indeed.
To their confusion, the bartender was an elderly looking lady with the darker olive skin of the Romani population, and long white hair in a loose braid, probably not guildmaster Gilfred then. Lowering their hood, the Keeper made their way to the bar, dodging the blind swings of several arms as the patrons gestured animatedly in their conversations.
When they finally made it to the bar, the Keeper spared a glance at the man sitting at it, his head resting on the counter, before asking the bartender. “Lookin’ for guildmaster Gilfred.”
The bartender gave them a lopsided grin and she promptly smacked the sleeping man on the back of the head. “Git up, son.”
“Wha-” The red-faced man with equally olive skin and rusty brown hair blinked a few times, before blinking blearily at the Keeper. “An’ whadda ya want?”
The Keeper was speechless for a moment, this was the guildmaster? Well, they could see the resemblance to his brother James, though he'd clearly inherited more of his mother's looks and speech.
“Ugh, ‘ang on. I needa drink.” The young man groaned. “Ma, gimmie a pint.”
The elderly woman rolled her eyes, but got him a large mug anyway, which he downed fast enough that even Faun would likely be impressed.
“Ah! Much bet'er.” He slammed the mug on the counter with a satisfied sigh, before turning to the Keeper and slurring. “Now whaddya want kid? Ol’ Al bet’er not've sent ya ta ask a fav'or.”
The Keeper snorted, well, if nobody was even trying to put on airs here, they'd stand out more if they did.
“Nothin’ o’ the sort.” It almost felt weird to slip back into speaking this way after all these years. “Just wanted ta give ya a ‘eads up. I'll be doin’ some business in these ‘ere parts.”
“O’ yea?” Gilfred hiccupped, giving them a lopsided grin that looked just like his mother's. “Whacha doin’? An’ hit piece?”
“A disappearin’.” The Keeper answered with an amused shrug, what a strange guildmaster. “Nothin’ more, like’as not.”
“Ha!” Gilfred barked a laugh. “Wel- hic, who's da poor sod?”
The Keeper was about to answer, when the shouting from behind them became angry and far louder than before. Both they, and the guildmaster, turned to see what looked like a fight breaking out between two tables, a blond man punching another to the floor to loud cheers from the rest of the pub.
To the Keeper’s surprise, the guildmaster made no move to break it up, simply watching with mild interest. At least until the blond man drew his wand, and then Gilfred was suddenly beside the man, plucking said wand from his hand almost too quickly to even see.
The Keeper blinked in surprise, had he apparated? They hadn't heard a sound though.
“Now now, dere'll be no magic if yer fightin’ in ‘ere. Ya know da rulez.” Gilfred slurred with a broad grin, swaying tipsily on the spot, the blond man's wand dangling in a loose pinch between his fingers.
“Oh, sod off, ‘e deserves it!” The blond man shouted, flushed red with anger and probably a little too much alcohol, making a grab for his wand as the other patrons jeered at him.
His grin unfaltering, Gilfred laughed, stepping back clumsily out of his range and overbalancing, the back of the guildmaster's knees hit a chair and he tumbled over it, his foot coming up as he fell over and slamming squarely into the blond man's gut.
Wind knocked out of him, the blond man stumbled back into a table before using it to push himself back towards the guildmaster.
Grabbing the chair that Gilfred had fallen over, the man threw it at the collapsed guildmaster, only for Gilfred to catch the chair's legs with his ankles, pushing on the floor with his hands, and flipping with the chair's momentum till it landed upright on its legs. Perching lazily on it with a smirk as the pub patrons cheered, the occasional glint of brass knuckles gleaming on the raised fists of the crowd.
Enraged, the blond grabbed another chair and swung it at him. With a grin, the guildmaster rolled onto his feet and the two wooden chairs were smashed into pieces against each other.
So, that's why the chairs were all newer than the building, the Keeper remarked to themselves absently.
They supposed there was only so many times one could reparo a piece of furniture before it was too worn, and they watched curiously as the guildmaster drunkenly stumbled to his feet. He certainly seemed drunk, yet somehow not a single blow managed to land on him and his flailing limbs would repeatedly hit the blond attacker as he wobbled through the tavern.
With a sleepy yawn, Gilfred stretched, taking the blond man's wand out of his reach and teetering to the side sluggishly. The man lunged for his wand, only to trip over Gilfred's leg, falling onto the bar counter, just a few paces away from the Keeper.
Without missing a beat, the bartender dropped her hand down on the man's neck and he went limp.
“Whew! Tha’ waz fun.” Gilfred chuckled, stumbling over to shove the blond's wand into the man's pocket, and the Keeper watched incredulously as the guildmaster rummaged through the man's coat for a moment, before pulling out a coin pouch and raising it in the air. “A round o’ drinkz on da bloke!”
The pub erupted into cheers and the Keeper winced at the volume, yeah, they much preferred the Phantom's. Though they imagined Sebastian would find this place more exciting.
“Zo.” The guildmaster tossed the pouch at his mother behind the counter and sat down beside the Keeper again. “Whut wure we talkin’ bout?”
“Frederick Taylor, bloke’ll be missin’ soon.” The Keeper answered, eyeing the mug of pale liquid that the elderly bartender had placed in front of them.
“Tis strawberry milk.” She smiled wryly, flicking her wand and sending several mugs of gold liquid flying off the counter to the tables. “I know Alasdair ‘ands those out fer recruits. That blasted snake, ‘iring kids ta fight.”
“Sayz da one what sent me ta ‘im fer trainin’.” Gilfred snorted, snatching one of the mugs out of the air and taking a generous swig.
“I sent ye ta ‘im to getcha sobered up.” The bartender flicked a bottle cork at him, and it hit him square in the forehead, leaving a red mark and almost knocking him off his stool. “Didn't wantcha drivin’ me guild inta the ground.”
As Gilfred scrambled to save his brew from the floor, the Keeper's eyebrows rose, so she used to be the old guildmaster. Perhaps not so surprising, they mused, taking a drink of milk from their mug, old as she was, Gilfred's mother looked like she could crack a skull with a single footstep.
Glaring at the bartender through hazy eyes, the wasted guildmaster grumbled under his breath that the only reason Alasdair had a doorman was because the posh man thought kicking out rowdy people beneath him. Before rather pointedly guzzling the rest of his drink, and tossing the empty mug into the sink behind the counter, where the dishes were washing themselves.
“Weell, kid, dunno whut yer've been ‘ired ta nab ‘im fer, me bruther's gonna whine bout snipin’ ‘is patrons, but dere ain't no problems ‘ere.” Gilfred slurred and slumped on the table again, looking quite ready to go back to sleep.
“Glad ta ‘ear it.” The Keeper gave an amused huff, even they were having a hard time understanding what the man was saying.
At least there wouldn't be any problems with their job, they continued to drink their milk, it wasn't as good as Alasdair’s but hey, it was free. Be a shame to waste a free drink.
“Kid, gimmie yer ‘and.” The bartender raised her hand, and the Keeper raised an eyebrow in response. Well, she was the previous guildmaster and Alasdair, they hoped, would have warned them if they couldn't trust her.
Extending their hand, and cautiously placing it in hers, the Keeper watched as she simply held it, her eyes closed for several long moments, and they felt a tingling sensation creep slowly up along their arm.
Until, finally, she lifted her eyes to meet theirs, and her amber orbs felt like they were seeing into their soul, leaving them ever so slightly unsettled.
“Well, you're somethin’ unique, aren't ya. So young, yet so ancient.” She murmured and the Keeper stiffened. “Be careful, people like ya ‘ave been disappearin’.”
They frowned as she released their hand. “What's that ‘sposed ta mean?”
“Zactly what I said.” The bartender gave them a tight smile. “Places like these draw them odds ‘n ends, misfits ‘n the like. Had our fair share ‘o strange folk with strange powers, lot of ‘em ‘ave gone missin’ ov'r the years.”
“That so?” The Keeper murmured, flexing their hand absently. “Any ideas what mighta ‘appened to ‘em?”
She shook her head. “Not a clue, but most of ‘em ain't the type that'd up ‘n leave with nary a word.”
Well, that wasn't much to go on, and they were fairly cautious already, so the Keeper asked instead. “What'd you do just there?”
“Just gettin’ a feel fer ya.” The bartender gave them a cryptic smile. “If ol’ Alasdair hadn't snatched ye up, I might’ve ‘ad me boy do it.”
Before the Keeper could even formulate a response, there came a loud thud beside them and, looking down, they found said ‘boy’ sprawled out on the floor snoring loudly.
Heaving a sigh and grumbling under her breath, the bartender wiped her hands and set down her towel. “That boy... ‘ang on.”
“Take yer time.” The Keeper chuckled, tossing the collapsed guildmaster an amused glance as his mother walked around the counter to drag his ass onto a bench.
It was plain to see that, despite her complaints and general atmosphere of disapproval, the woman loved the odd young man quite deeply.
Somehow, it reminded them of the way Ominis was with Sebastian. Even though neither boy had particularly good examples to follow, and were very clumsy about it, Ominis and Sebastian still managed to discover love, and stumble through expressing it to each other.
Some things were just natural, if you love someone, you can't bear to make them feel worse when they're already feeling bad, right? You want them to be happy and safe, warm and wearing a smile. It didn't matter what they'd done or your own ego or what you expected of them. You'd never just toss them aside, disown them like Solomon did Sebastian.
That's how the Keeper felt at least, and they knew both boys did too.
Sebastian had seen, even if he hadn't understood, how much it hurt Ominis to join him in the Scriptorium. That it wasn't that Ominis didn't want to help him, but that helping was hurting him. So, Sebastian had tried to leave Ominis out of saving Anne, without making Ominis feel guilty about not helping.
Sure, it was lying by omission, but the Keeper had understood the love in that act, and it had been quite inspirational to them. In his own way, Ominis had shown it too, trying to stop Sebastian in fear that Sebastian, who had already been dealt a dreadful blow by Anne's curse, would only suffer more as he struggled against fate.
Even if Ominis’ words and actions, in the spirit of love, had ended up hurting Sebastian too, he'd been torn between stopping Sebastian for his own good and knowing that Sebastian needed to do this to be happy. Ominis had been easy to sway because he understood that Sebastian would never be able to forgive himself if he stopped, something he loved and hated about his best friend, and a part of him had hoped that Sebastian would succeed.
Considering Ominis’ own mental state, they could respect that internal struggle and knew that that too came from love. The Keeper was still struggling with it themselves. Trying to do the right thing for Sebastian and Ominis, when they didn't have anyone to teach them.
It had been terrifying yesterday, hearing Ominis speak like he wanted to die. They'd seen it many times, the ones who... decided that their lot wasn't worth suffering through. The ones who'd sat down and waited for death.
...I'm tired... we... we were never meant to be born.
They'd spent years wondering why they were still fighting even though they knew that the best they could hope for was a dignified death. That nothing short of a miracle would improve their situation. Well, they'd gotten their miracle, and Sebastian and Ominis had made all those years of fighting worth it.
The thought that they might have unintentionally pushed their precious Ominis to the point of wishing he'd never been born, even though they needed him so much, had been a punch to the gut.
They still felt bad about slapping him, but they'd needed to snap him out of it, perhaps even more for themselves than for him. He and Sebastian, being a part of what those two boys had, being loved, was the Keeper's prize after a lifetime's worth of suffering, and they wouldn't relinquish that. Ever.
As they watched the elderly lady tuck her son in with a blanket, struggling to pry his arms from where they were wrapped around hers like it were his bolster. A clear mix of fondness and exasperation on her features, and a part of them felt some relief to see their own feelings reflected in her eyes and actions.
That maybe, even if they didn't know what they were doing or how things would turn out in the end, there were some things that everyone could get right.
When there was love.
The wind was biting as it grazed the skin under their hood and the Keeper spared Sebastian a fond smile as he grumbled, turning onto his side to catch the little light peering through the clouds on the pages of his book, only to almost fall off the sloped roof that they were precariously perched upon.
“Gah!” Sebastian yelped, catching the book as the Keeper pulled him back to safety, and he grinned sheepishly up at them from their lap. “Thanks.”
“Careful darling.” They chuckled, before returning their magically enhanced gaze to the street below.
The Eagle's Eye Elixir was probably one of the most useful NEWT-level potions they'd learnt so far and they'd put it to good use, watching the Rowdy Rogue for their target from a safe vantage away. It was certainly far preferable to casting the disillusionment charm on themselves and hiding near the establishment while the spell drained their magic for who knows how long.
“You know.” Sebastian mused, watching them from their lap. “Keeping you company while waiting for hours, following a guy around, drinking polyjuice. Not exactly what I had in mind when I said I wanted to help you on your next job.”
“Regretting?” The Keeper asked absently with an amused smile.
“More like impressed that you're not bored out of your mind.” Sebastian commented, following their eyes down to the people hustling back and forth.
“I like people watching.” The Keeper replied, brushing their fingers through his hair idly. “There was little else to do, outside of gang fights, learning to read the Bible, and my... work. You can learn a lot just from watching peopl-”
The Keeper froze when a familiar man entered their view, and thereafter, the pub. Anger throbbed through their veins, that scum, walking about, free of all cares even after what he'd done to Tobbs. He deserved nothing less than a hole in the ground, him and all the others like him.
“There he is.” They hissed.
Sebastian sighed. “Great. Now we have to wait for him to finish his dinner, track him back to his house and then come back again tomorrow to nab him on the way home.”
“Yup.” The Keeper chuckled, patting him on the head. “It's the least we can do...”
A vicious smirk stretched across the Keeper's face.
“...to let him enjoy his last day as a free man.”
The road was dark as Frederick Taylor left Edinburgh, crunching through the snow with a bottle in hand, heading home after a long day’s work at the city's potions’ emporium. His ears still ringing from the scathing rebukes he'd gotten from the surly old owner of the shop.
Damn woman, it wasn't his fault her workshop was so fucking messy, eventually someone was going to mix up the bottle of Rosewoods oil drops and essence of Essenwood. They were the same colour!
It still pissed him off that he was now an employee, when he'd once owned his own potions shop in London. Now, he had to work for someone else, and he cursed the useless elf that'd disappeared from the cave he'd left it in two years ago.
The very reminder was enough for him to take another swig from the bottle he'd taken with him when James kicked him out of the pub. His tongue had gone numb to its flavour since he'd finished his second, but its buzz was probably the only reason he wasn't crying like a baby.
His Vanessa, that beautiful fucking whore. How could she leave him? With nothing but a bloody note! She'd said she loved him, he'd bought her everything she wanted, he'd given her lots of love and sex too, which he was quite good at! His wife had gotten pregnant twice, after all. He'd heard some guys couldn't even do that. Weak plebs.
Vanessa probably would have gotten pregnant after being together so long, if she wanted to, but the bitch took contraceptive potions every time, saying she wanted him to leave his wife first. That cunt had probably been planning to leave the whole time, maybe he should have swapped her potion so she would get pregnant, maybe she would've stayed then.
His wife had. She'd married him after he knocked her up, her prissy parents hadn't wanted her to have a kid out of wedlock and he'd agreed. Why wouldn't he? They were rich. Compared to his adoptive parents, at least.
Frederick slipped on a patch of ice and cursed, pausing to spit at it before continuing on his way.
Then again, he wasn't sure he wanted another kid. He never knew what to do with them, his stupid wife had thrown such a hissy fit when he'd pulled out his belt the first time their baby started screaming. She'd looked so horrified, pretty blue eyes staring at him in shock as she stood between him and the kid.
It'd started then, those beautiful eyes, staring at him like he was some sort of monster. Like she didn't know him. He'd backed off from then on, whenever it came to the kids. What was that look for? That's what you did with noisy brats. Her method took forever for the kid to shut up, but he'd decided to be gracious and let her get her way, maybe then she'd stop looking at him like that.
Those eyes haunted him, the change that had come over them, the way she looked at him, like there was something wrong with him. It drove him mad, even just remembering it.
He raised the bottle to his lips again, and it only got worse over the years. It wasn't his fault. He never wanted to hit her, it just- Every time he got some drinks with his friends, she would look at him with those eyes, like those fucking muggles did, like he was a beggar on the streets.
It wasn't his fault she was always so annoying while he was just trying to enjoy the buzz. Babbling incessantly about how he shouldn't drink, and how she needed the money for her parents’ medical bills, ridiculous considering how rich they were. The wizarding healers weren't like muggle doctors, they could do so much insane stuff, surely those bills couldn't be that much of a problem. Did she think he was stupid? She was probably hiding all that money just so he'd drink less.
Was it too much to ask? To let him have even this one thing to look forward to. If she just minded her own business and stopped trying to control him, everything would be fine.
She was always on his case about spending more time with the brats too, and it wasn't as if he didn't want to, it wasn't his fault that the kids liked her more. They were always so happy with her, even if also annoyingly loud, but with him, they were quiet and stiff. He was trying, alright!? He wanted the kids to like him too, goddammit, but all they wanted was their ma.
The older one had started giving him the same look she did, since he began Hogwarts. Frederick was willing to bet the last of his coin that his petty, childish, and selfish wife was poisoning the boy against him. Turning his own sons against him, what a vindictive bitch.
God, it pissed him off so bad, why had she changed? What happened to the sweet girl he'd met in Hogwarts? He'd thought her so beautiful when he'd first met her, gentle and ladylike, the prettiest Hufflepuff in their year. He'd been the envy of the other Gryffindor boys when she agreed to go out with him in fifth year and he'd been grateful to his adoptive parents. They'd given him the money to impress her and supported his pursuit of her.
Now he wished they hadn't. It was just his luck, to be deceived by his first girl, ensnared by the falsehood that she would always be the loving and gentle person she'd pretended to be, only to change after their marriage.
He supposed he had been somewhat lucky, once. His parents had died two years before he'd gotten his letter, and going to the magical school had gotten him adopted in his first year, by a couple in Hogsmeade, so he hadn't had to go back to the filthy orphanage over the summers.
The couple had mostly used him as a second house elf, but it was so much better than the workhouse, that he'd taken it without complaint. Their elf though, he'd hated it so much. It was small, ugly, stupid, and worst of all, better at magic than Frederick. Even though he was human, he was a wizard! He wasn't a weird little freak like the muggle orphanage hands called him, compared to that wrinkly creature with no pride.
At least he'd been good at potions, and they'd bought a shop with his wife's money, the ungrateful bitch never appreciated that it was Frederick's talent that made the shop successful. That if it weren't for him, her parents’ money would be sitting uselessly in the bank, like the money he knew she was hiding from him now.
All she did was smile and laugh and gossip with the customers about pointless things like how their families were doing. Who fucking cares? They were just here to buy his potions, they probably found his brainless wife annoying too and were too polite to tell her off. He'd told her to cut it out and stop wasting time when she could be working, but she never listened.
Ironic since the bitch was always whining that he never listened to her, never spent time with her. Well, she never wanted to have sex either, she was always “too tired”. As if she had anything difficult to do, their elf handled the chores and heavy lifting, so all she had to do was take care of their brats and manage their potions, keep things organised and other brain work shit. Far less work than a muggle bitch who had to do all of that and actually tiring chores by hand. The cunt was so entitled and lazy.
She just didn't care about his needs, so it wasn't his fault for scratching that itch elsewhere. Why should he be honest? She was keeping secrets too. Keeping the fortune she'd inherited from her rich parents hidden away somewhere, just so she could continue pestering him to quit drinking with the excuse of running out of money.
Vanessa had reminded him of her, of how she'd looked, back during their Hogwarts days. Pretty blue eyes, soft face, not like all the lines that had appeared on his wife's brow over the years, the skin under Vanessa's eyes was light, not like the ugly dark stains that were under his wife's or the red puffiness that came after he’d had some drinks. Even Jesus and fucking Saint Aidan would lose his temper with that woman.
Served his shit wife right anyway, the bitch was always so whiny whenever they did have sex, never just lying down with him and letting him enjoy the afterglow afterwards. Always running off quickly to do something with the children or the shop, she always had to ruin things every time he made an effort to rekindle their romance from back in Hogwarts.
Things only got worse after the damn elf disappeared, she still insisted that she didn't have any money left from her parents. Like he would buy such an obvious lie, everybody lies, he already knew that. After all, he was doing it too, hiding Vanessa from her, but he never thought his wife would hate him so much that she'd continue hiding her money till they lost the shop.
Crying crocodile tears while spitefully forcing him into the humiliating corner of having to work as an employee. His luck was terrible too, all his bosses were shit fucks that fired him after mere weeks, he bet his whore of a wife was fucking her boss, that's why she got a well-paying job so quickly.
Yet she still kept nagging him to get a job, whining all the time that they needed to make more money, that their debt was incurring interest faster than she could keep up with, while paying for everything. As if it was his fault nobody appreciated his talents. As if she couldn't just stop hiding her money and fucking pay it off.
He wasn't stupid, her job's pay was good, but not good enough to keep up. She was just taking her hidden money out slowly instead of using it to fix their problems. Weren't those problems bad enough for her to drop her petty grudge against him and do the right thing, even if Frederick would benefit from that money too? Even he felt bad when their sons had to drop out of Hogwarts.
Maybe if he left, she'd finally be willing to take the money out and at least use it for the kids. He'd been fighting with her one morning, and she'd had the audacity to suggest selling his real muggle birth parents’ gold wedding rings and his mother’s pearl necklace, all he’d had left of them when they died. He'd buried those treasures when they died and only went back for them after he'd graduated, and his wife was talking about selling them!?
Their oldest had slammed his hands on the table, shouting, “Shut up, da! Everything would be better if you just fucked off!”
Frederick had been so shocked, his children had never taken that tone or language with him before. He'd been furious at his wife, what was the woman teaching their children!?
He'd gone for his wand, intending to cast a Silencing Charm on the impudent brat.
Only for her to fucking grab the two kids and run from the house, as though he were a monster chasing them. Embarrassing him, when his shouting and their fleeing made the neighbours, and everyone on the street, look at him like a madman. Cheeks flushed with humiliation, he'd stormed back into the house and began packing his things.
Why the hell not. He'd leave, and he'd take whatever he could find. His bitch wife could keep the children that she'd poisoned against him, he didn't need them, he didn't need any of them. He still had his mother’s necklace and his father’s ring, and a handful of galleons. He would start over with Vanessa, maybe then he'd have children who loved him.
Frederick tilted the bottle further back and groaned in disappointment when he had to accept that it was empty. Furious that it hadn't been enough to get his brain to stop working, he threw the bottle into the treeline, wobbling on the spot as it shattered against a trunk.
He choked out a sob and slumped against a dying tree on the other side of the road. Its barren branches loomed over his head, dry and empty, save the snow gathering along the length of its bough, weighing it down to graze the tips of his hair with bony cold fingers.
He never wanted any of this. He just wanted a beautiful loving wife, and children who would smile at him, look at him like he was the world to them. Instead, he'd gotten an ungrateful bitch, children who loved her more than him, and a lying cunt who left him with no more than a note of farewell.
What had he left now? The pearl necklace around his neck, a gold ring, five galleons and a small, rented room in Musselburgh. No parents, no family, no friends. All alone in the world. Unbidden, his sons’ faces came to mind.
He could still remember his boys when they were still babies. They'd become annoying as they grew older, but he still remembered the moment he'd held his firstborn, little soft thing with big blue eyes. None of the anger that'd begun showing up in those eyes. The younger one still hadn't had that happen... yet.
So, it was good. It was good to have left. Before that happened. His wife had a job, she was good with numbers and words, she could keep things tidy, and she was still kind of pretty. She'd be fine. They'd be fine without him.
...
Fuck, he missed them.
It was so fucking weird, but those boys, his bitch wife. Now that he was crying on the side of an empty dirt road surrounded by dying trees and freezing his balls off, he kinda wished he was back home. How were the kids? His wife? Were they really better off since he'd left six months ago?
Frederick shook his head, of course they were.
Of course they were. He closed his eyes. His kids were cuddled with his bitch wife in front of the fireplace, celebrating Christmas, all warm an-
“...lp!”
Frederick blinked, turning his head towards the faint sound, had he imagined it? Struggling to focus through the haze in his mind, he looked up, the road was bathed in pitch black, and the light of the night sky had been covered by thick clouds.
The sound of a twig snapping just off to his left made him jump and his eyes peered through the treeline, the cold air quickly sobering him as he raised his wand. “Lumos!”
A circle of light bloomed around him, straining to push back against the darkness, but he could see no further than a few steps.
“Is someone there?” Frederick called out, straining his ears to catch the slightest sound.
But nothing came.
The silence of the empty winter road, the graveyard of dead trees devoid of life or motion, suddenly felt too quiet. He swallowed, his throat suddenly dry and the inside of his skull ringing between his hollow ears.
The darkness of the path lay like a gaping void at his feet, the eerie stillness burning the last of the alcohol's buzz from his mind.
“Help! Help me!”
Frederick stiffened when he recognised that voice. No, it couldn't be. The boy was supposed to be at home, with his wife-
A deep growl and a shriek of terror cut through the air, the clouds parted, and the moon's light pierced the darkness. Through the scattering of trees, Frederick was struck with horror when he spotted a small dark figure running through the trees, pursued by a large wolf.
“Help! Dad!” The boy's panicked voice stabbed the man, sharp painful spikes of dread embedding themselves in his chest.
“Andrew!” Frederick shouted. Clenching his teeth, he took off after the figures, heart pounding as he ran, stumbling over tree roots and bushes.
Not his boy, not the one that still hadn't learned to hate him yet. Andrew was supposed to be at home with his fucking wife, what the fuck was wrong with the useless fucking bitch!? Couldn't even get this right!? Couldn't even keep their kids safe!?
Just ahead of him, the wolf had caught up to his son and was crouched over the fallen boy.
Fear and anger boiling in his veins, Frederick swung his wand at the wolf, shouting. “Diffindo!”
The wolf leapt out of the way and his spell slammed into a tree, cutting deep into its bark, as the wolf turned its golden gaze on him.
Fear chilled him to the bone, as it bared its teeth at Frederick, sharp fangs gleaming in the light of his wand, and in that moment, he saw in its eyes, his own death staring him in the face.
Behind the wolf, was his son, the boy lying on the floor, his boy, his child. The desire to save his son clenched tight within his heart, but the fear seeping through his pores was turning his flesh numb with its chill.
He had to save Andrew...
The wolf's jaw spread wide.
He had to save...
The great beast raised its haunches.
He had to...
It sprang forward at him.
...had to...
Run. Turning on the spot and diving out of the wolf's path, Frederick ran back the way he'd come. His heart screamed at him in pain, but his body was numb with fear.
He could always have another kid, everything would be over if he died. This wasn't his fault. It was hers. Andrew shouldn't even be here, all alone. She'd abandoned him first. It wasn't his fault. He didn't deserve to die for her mistake.
He glanced behind him as he ran, but to his surprise, instead of a wolf, he caught a glimpse of what looked like a person, as a red hued spell slammed into him, throwing him through the air.
As his vision darkened, the last terrifying thing that he saw...
Was a shadowy figure standing over him with blood red eyes.
Sebastian brushed the snow from his pant legs with tiny hands as he stood, cheeks flushed pink and heart still racing. Fuuuuuck, having the Keeper looming over him, pinning him to the floor in their Animagus form, their large heavy paws dipping into the snow, heat radiating from their fur and sharp fangs showing.
He wondered if it was because of his own Animagus form's instinct, Sebastian felt like if he were as a dog, he'd have rolled onto his back and bared his neck. Was it just a result of the adrenaline? It'd been a long time since he'd been a boy around the age of the kid he'd polyjuiced into, and he couldn't quite remember how easy it had been to end up having a... well, tent in the pant.
He watched as the Keeper flicked their wand and conjured ropes to bind the unconscious man lying in the snow, taking his wand and searching him for any portkeys or valuables and probably his keys. What a coward, Sebastian sneered at the bound man.
Hiccupping, Sebastian drew his wand and cast a resizing charm on his clothes, loosening them in advance as he felt the polyjuice begin to wear off. At least the man had cared enough about his kid to be lured off the road, the thought was quickly ejected from his brain however, and Sebastian doubled over, pain rippling across his body as his skin stretched, bones elongating and thickening.
Until he was himself again, kneeling on the ground, his hands braced against the cold snow, heaving for breath as the sound of footsteps approached.
“Alright there, love?” The Keeper asked.
“Ugh, that was worse than I expected.” Sebastian groaned.
“Probably hurt more because of the age difference. Growing pains.” The Keeper grinned and Sebastian chuckled weakly.
A swirl of golden light later, he felt warm fur against his chest as the Keeper slipped under his arms, supporting his weight and allowing him to drape over their large wolf form. Offering themselves as support while he recovered, so that his hands needn't rest on the cold snow, and Sebastian's cheeks warmed yet again when he felt their powerful muscles flexing under the fluffy fur.
Reminded of how it'd felt to have them crouched over him mere moments ago.
When he felt well enough, Sebastian gave the Keeper's head a grateful pat, and slowly peeled himself from their back to stand. As he did so, the Keeper quickly transformed back into human form to support him when he wobbled on the spot, slipping their arms around his waist.
As he leaned against them, he felt their warm breath by his ear, and they murmured. “You smell much better as yourself.”
Going even redder, Sebastian blanched. “You were sniffing me?”
He could hear the broad grin in their voice as they chuckled and purred. “Hard not to when you smell so aroused.”
Sebastian wasn't sure how he felt about them knowing that he'd been turned on by the sheer danger wafting off them a few minutes ago. Embarrassed? More aroused?
Scrambling for a response, he blurted out the first thing that came to mind. “Oh yeah? And how's that smell?”
The Keeper pressed their nose to his nape and murmured. “Delicious.”
Sebastian gave a nervous laugh. “Planning on eating me?”
That probably shouldn't sound as good to him as it did.
“Maybe when we’re home and cleaned up. Job's not done yet.” The Keeper chuckled and released him, waving their wand. “Accio.”
The spell dragged Frederick's unconscious body across the ground and the Keeper plucked a strand of hair from his head. Dropping it into a vial of muddy brown polyjuice potion, it quickly turned into a nauseating lumpy sludge of yellow and green, and the Keeper grimaced at it.
“Bring him back to Dìon for me while I ransack his house.” Despite the wording, the Keeper's tone came out more like a question than an instruction.
“Sure.” Sebastian nodded, taking his broom from his pocket and enlarging it, before tying the man to the end and casting a levitation charm at him. “I'll see you back home.”
Mounting his broom with some discomfort, look it’s hard to have wood between the legs when you have wood between the legs, Sebastian flashed them a grin, calling back as he took off. “Then we can let him cook while you have me for dessert.”
The Keeper's laughter followed him out of the treeline and anticipation tightened Sebastian’s grip on the broom handle. Maybe if they were lucky, Ominis might be in the mood to provide some... accompanying refreshments too.
Notes:
Just a few trivial notes to get out of the way;
I made a small change to Part 2 chapter 19, because I didn't realise Edinburgh was actually a big city back when I first wrote that bit, (look, I ain't from around there and I picked Edinburgh cos the name sounded cool) so I made it a bit more specific, the Obliviated woman was dropped off by a small town “Musselburgh, just east of Edinburgh” and James owns “a bar in the city”.
And, in Harry Potter lore, the more powerful someone is, the more quiet they are when apparating, just sayin' x3
After added research, I've also changed the name of the Keeper's orphanage to Nazareth Houses in Part 1 chapter 6.
Has anyone even recognised the reference to Persona 5 with the guild being called the Phantoms and the Keeper wearing a half-face mask for their work? There's a TMNT Fast Forward reference and a subtle Undertale reference in there too hehe
Also, I love the idea of Sebastian accidentally making 11 year old Ominis fall in love with him by just being honest and not thinking before he speaks. I know people characterise him as flirty but I think in game, that was really just him sucking up to MC and prodding for information because he needed and admired them, I think he's the type that stumbles into his actual flirting without thinking much.
And that's the trivial notes done, please pay attention from this point on!
“When your friends are roasting on the spit, you're the one who feels the fire.” That's a quote from the first How To Train Your Dragons TV series (God, I love Dreamworks Dragons and Race to the Edge so much-)
In my humble opinion, the one commonality between every single type of love, platonic, romantic, familial, friendship and camaraderie and everything in-between, is “I don't want this person to suffer.” Now, the one stumbling block that a lot of people trip over is that the “suffer” should not be your own definition of “suffering”, it should be their definition of “suffering”.
The problems arise when you try to protect someone from what you personally think is the “worst suffering”, and put them through their “worst suffering” in the process. That's what Ominis and, to a more extreme extent, Solomon did with Sebastian, and we all know how that turned out.
So, key takeaway is, find out what your loved ones’ “worst suffering” is, and try to remember to protect them from their “worst suffering” and not your own when you naturally, as a result of love, try to protect them from suffering.
Next, I want to contrast the Keeper’s addiction vs Frederick's here. The key difference between them is that the Keeper had acknowledged the terrifying reality that they were addicted, accepted the fact that they couldn't handle it alone, and took responsibility for their actions as a result of their addiction. The appropriate response here is to support them, assure them that while they do bear that responsibility, their actions were understandable.
Frederick however, neither acknowledges his addiction, nor does he accept assistance with it and flees from responsibility. Blaming everyone around him and pushing them away. Sure, we are a product of our environment, but that doesn't mean you don't need to put in effort to change as well when presented with evidence that your interpretation of the world is wrong.
Unlike Sebastian, who does accept that he had fucked up (even if he had considerable personal justification) at the end of his questline. Takes two hands to clap and all that.
Now, all that being said, we should never shame addiction, even when it's a Frederick case, that's not what I'm trying to do here.
Addiction forms as a coping mechanism and everybody on planet Earth has suffered and to each and every one, your own suffering is the worst suffering on Earth. The hardest to deal with. We are all vulnerable to getting addicted to a specific thing that allows us to cope. Everyone is likely already addicted to something, it's just a question of how harmful it is and how well it's managed.
It's a different weak point for each person, the common ones are drugs, gambling, alcohol, porn, scrolling social media, but there are less obviously bad addictions too. People can be addicted to the dopamine hit they get when they make someone else happy, or the adrenaline rush that comes from hurting other people’s feelings or comparing themselves to others and stroking their own ego with how much “better” they are, whether that be in material ways or moral.
People that are addicted to things with negative effects on both themselves and others, need support to wean off them and adopt healthy coping mechanisms to manage said addictions.
However, that necessitates that the addicted person be aware that an uncontrolled addiction is inherently negative. Even if, “feeling good by making other people happy” seems like a good thing, if uncontrolled, a person might end up neglecting their own needs, chasing that dopamine hit, making them vulnerable to abuse. (The healthy solution for that one is simple, get a good partner and tell them you have a praise kink.)
Moderation is the key to success.
I know, corny, I'm sorry- but it's true, many people delude themselves into thinking that their addictions are not addictions, they're just “things I like doing” but, like someone I spent a week arguing with on YouTube's comments, a girl (according to her, which is odd since she also says she's graduated from University, most would use the word ‘woman’ by that age but okay).
She said and I quote, “Sebastian is a bad manipulative person, because if a person does a bad thing it means they were a bad person from the start and they're beyond saving and no amount of remorse can make up for it”, along with, “I got bullied but I never fought back or took drugs or stuff, so I'm stronger than people like Sebastian who caved under abuse from his uncle”.
That right there, is an addiction to the dopamine hit that comes when comparing yourself to someone else and going “wow, look how much better I am than that person”.
This same person also said that “even if you are poor, there are legal ways of making money, so if you break the law, even to save a family member, you are a bad person”. In other words, poor people are poor because they don't want to work, and by extension, homeless people should just buy a home. She also said that people with family members with cancer should just let them die because fighting cancer looks painful to her. Guess my aunt should have died rather than successfully fight off cancer and live another 20 years and counting. /s
I was genuinely at a loss for words with this person. She said she graduated from the free University, paid for by her government (wow, I wanna live there) where she studied “history” ...just history apparently. All the history, I guess. Of what? Of everything. But, somehow took a week to realise that laws are different in different countries and that having a country with laws that don't protect the people, would affect a person's morality and motivation to obey the law.
...okay, great, you made the first step, now please go to the next logical conclusion. Have you considered how shit the Ministry of Magic is? What makes you compare Sebastian to people in a first world country in 2024? Slavery and racism are LEGAL and rampant in Wizarding Britain, there’s no Childcare Protection Service, no lawyers, and there's a literal war with goblins going on. Even Hogwarts’ Headmaster Black is openly corrupt and engages in open favouritism and house elf abuse, this ain't a Dumbledore-run school at the moment! Such a trust-less society and environment is gonna affect Sebastian's morals too, that doesn’t make him evil!
She even cited Oliver Twist to compare Sebastian against like, “See, Oliver remained a good person despite everything he went through, so Sebastian caving to circumstances and using the unforgivables means he was always evil.” Completely missing the fact that Dickens wrote Oliver Twist to increase understanding of unfortunate people and challenge the idea that impoverished and desperate people are inherently morally evil, but instead teach that they're shaped by their environments. Even Oliver himself never judges his fellow impoverished negatively for being cruel to him.
Which is weird because this person was also defending how “good” of a person Ominis was, when he objectively failed her bar. I mean, he caved to his parents’ abuse and cast the Cruciatus curse on defenceless muggles. How is that different? Even Ominis himself is aware of this! The whole point of that was to show that this is a harmful mentality to have, even for the person having it, look at how much Ominis hates himself for failing that absurd expectation of perfection from humans.
(Plus, Sebastian cast all the unforgivables in defence so, with that plus being a minor, any juvenile court would show him leniency. Oh, did I mention that this person says 15-year-olds are not children? I was deeply concerned.)
I got several strokes arguing with this person that good people can make mistakes and do things they regret. Wow, so shocking, I know. And that “understandable” and “acceptable” are not the same thing. We can understand and empathise with the reasons a person does something, without condoning it.
The Just World Fallacy is a terrible and categorically delusional place to live in. I invite you to look up the term, it's an absurdly common cognitive bias in many people, my abusive father included. Not gonna lie, Fredrick takes a fair amount of inspiration from him.
These are the people that I write to convince, but man, if they can read friggin’ Oliver Twist and come away thinking that the book's message is to shame other unfortunate people for not being as good as Oliver, it makes me really scared to write. And that's why my notes are always so long-
Imagine, writing books where you try to teach people to be more understanding of why people shouldn't be blamed, hated, and punished for being desperate enough to resort to criminality. Only for someone to use your writing to shame other unfortunate people for not being as perfect as Oliver. Hurk- Pain- Dickens must be rolling in his grave.
She even called my "ideas" childish, like, I'm childish when you are literally not understanding basic human rights laws. Really?
Right, anyway, the point of this whole segue, is that people with Just World Fallacy (like that girl I argued with) actively creates people like Frederick. He's an incredibly unreliable narrator, except for one point. Frederick does, in fact, legitimately not know what he did wrong when he tried to belt whip a baby for crying.
If his wife had explained why that was an inappropriate response to him patiently, (yes, he would have resisted, scoffed at it too, but don't just quit gurl, change isn't easy) if she had taken the effort to teach him the correct way to handle a baby rather than level at him empty judgement, if she hadn't judged him as an evil man immediately upon being shocked by his “surprising vile action”, if she'd asked him why he thought that whipping a baby was correct. Encouraged him to open up about his childhood trauma from being an orphan in the 1890s.
Maybe he would've gotten better, maybe he could have learned. The reality is that judging other people as evil and beyond saving, and not trying to correct it, helps nobody. If you think something is wrong with the way he thinks or behaves, try to understand why he is the way he is and work on it with him. If you can't do anything about it or figure it out, or he resists very strongly, get help from others.
(There's also an important balance to strike with teaching or giving advice. See, you want to say, “you should do this”, but if you don't also say “it's okay to fail”, then you are actively discouraging a person from trying.
But if you say, “it's okay to fail”, you better fucking mean it. If the person trying fails after you said it's okay to fail and you immediately scold and shame them for failing, now they are probably never going to try again. Failing already feels bad, you don't need to make it worse.
Now, that's not to say the person shouldn't have to accept the consequences of the failure. They should, that's how you learn, but don't ADD shaming the person for it to the mix. Failure doesn't say anything inherent about a person. It doesn't make them stupid or evil, and it doesn't mean they weren't trying.
You can't read their mind, how do you know they “weren't trying”? Not all effort is visible, and some people have reasons to struggle more at things you think aren't that hard. People always need a reason to continue trying, something to strive for, otherwise they won't try.
This is why not turning Sebastian in is the correct choice, we see that after hitting the bad results of his actions, unlike Frederick, Sebastian was not arrogant and understood that forgiveness and mercy was something he could only beg for. He didn't blame Solomon (even though he'd have some grounds there if he did), he didn't blame Anne, or MC and Ominis for not stopping him. He expressed regret for his actions and his hope for grace.
He was willing to accept that he's made wrong decisions, acknowledging that, “you all believed in me, and I let you all down.” By showing him mercy, he takes responsibility for his actions and resolves to earn the second chance he was granted, saying “I know I can't change what I've done, but I can try every day to make up for it.”
It helps that Sebastian is still a child too, at 15 years of age, boys are still developing mentally and physically, and he has much room to grow. All this is 200% harder with an adult, especially one over 26, when the mind is already mostly made up. But, harder doesn’t mean impossible, my mom managed at 50+!)
Now, not everyone is in the position to help other people, of course. Not everyone has access to guidance and education (like the Keeper, and possibly Fredrick's wife) and your own safety comes first, you can't help others if you’re dead. His wife’s fear of Fredrick was legitimate and well founded, her belief that he was going to hurt her kids when he went for his wand was very reasonable and she was right to take her kids and flee the house, even if he hadn't intended to do harm. God, wands are terrible World Building, a gun, a pen, a knife, and a dishwasher all in one-
Basically, don't burn yourself to keep others warm, safety first. But also, don't write people off because it's easier and makes you feel good, makes you feel better than others. Gotta walk that thin boundary carefully.
I said, in parting to the girl on YouTube, and I will say it here.
I believe in rehabilitation. I believe in redemption and remorse. There is no point too far to turn back, no apology I will not accept. Life is a series of compromises with each other, with reality and with ourselves. The bar and the lines are different for everyone, sometimes we clash, and it’s nobody’s fault.
Is it scarier to live this way? Yes. One can never know if the second chance you give will be for nought and your effort will be wasted, and it's important to give second chances in a way that doesn't endanger yourself, and to use empiricism and pattern recognition to evaluate when to give out your second chances. Don't just dole it out blindly either, that's bad too, for both you and the recipient. Seek advice and guidance from professionals and those wiser when uncertain.
But whenever I can, I will always be willing to give forgiveness and second chances.
Because I know how important forgiveness is when you need it.
Also, Frederick's anger towards Vanessa isn't unfounded, in my opinion. Not because of being with a married man, (though come on, don't make it easy for them to cheat), Frederick is the one who made a vow to his wife, it's mostly on him for cheating. But because she used him for money and then discarded him. Sure, Frederick is awful but that doesn't make it okay to scam him. If you're gonna encourage him to leave his wife for you, you've made your bed, at least lie in it.
In the words of Dan Olson in his incredible video, This Is Financial Advice:
“It can be difficult to have empathy for apes (people like Frederick) because, frankly, a lot of them suck... It's tempting to look at them and think, ‘you know what, they brought this on themselves.’ But no-one deserves to be exploited... No-one deserves to have their ego and security ground down to the point that there’s no escape, no reason to step back and admit defeat, no reason to reflect.”
I think the reason I hate how things go if we turn Sebastian in, is because that's exactly what we do to him by choosing to send him to Azkaban. We give him no reason to step back, no reason to admit defeat and reflect. So he just gets angrier, at both goblins and dark wizards. His anger... no. We would have turned Sebastian into Frederick.
Everyone can be crushed, everyone has a breaking point, even someone as earnest, hardworking, determined, and committed to learning, as Sebastian. And I never want to be responsible for breaking someone else.
And, yes, these notes are extra-long because that argument on YouTube made me paranoid and anxious that people will misinterpret my work. My cope method is clearly over-explaining.
And this lesson continues in the next chapter, so... brace for more long notes, though I don’t think they’ll be quite as long x'D
Below you’ll find all ongoing and completed Hogwarts Legacy fanfiction series, neatly organized for your convenience. Enjoy the ride!
Completed Series
🏁 Heavy Is The Crown – In the wake of Solomon's death, Ominis decides that Sebastian cannot be trusted to make sound judgement and takes measures to ensure that Sebastian will present no danger to himself or others. Sebastian was lucky this time, the new fifth-year and Anne were willing to spare him, but the next time Sebastian crosses a line, Ominis might not be able to save him from death or Azkaban.
Ominis has practically lost Anne, he cannot lose Sebastian too, and he will do whatever it takes to protect Sebastian.
Even from himself.
(Ominis/Sebastian)
➡️ First chapter on A03 here or use the tumblr links below!
〘 01 | 02 | 03 | 04 〙
~
🏁 Let's Go, Together – What if Anne arrived a little later in the catacombs? What if she didn’t see Sebastian kill Solomon? What if she wasn't overcome with rage, piled upon grief?
You watch helplessly instead, as the twins go to meet fate, hand in hand.
(Gen, slight Ominis/Reader)
➡️ Fic on A03 here or use the tumblr link below!
〘 01 〙
~
🏁 Deleted Scenes – A series of fill in snippets of interactions between Sebastian and Ominis in-between quests, starting with Ominis confronting Sebastian after he catches Main Character leaving the Undercroft. Ending with a longer epilogue chapter that takes place post-game.
(Ominis/Sebastian)
➡️ First chapter on A03 here or use the tumblr links below!
〘 01 | 02 | 03 | 04 | 05 | 06 | 07 | 08 〙
Ongoing Series
(Currently on hiatus)
Welcome to Your Life
The Keeper's tale, a post-game story of a morally-grey, pragmatic, Chaotic Neutral, non-binary, muggleborn, orphan player character, so burned by 1800s orphanages, that they became a power hoarder who demands more payment for quests, burns paintings but doesn't want to rule the world, just their own territory and the two boys who'd caught their eye.
~
✨ Part 1: Everybody Wants To Rule THEIR World – The Keeper (MC) has already secured the repository and Sebastian's loyalty, emboldening his descent into darkness. Now, they just need to win over Ominis, cure Anne, and create a domain to call their own.
And not necessarily in that order.
(Ominis/Sebastian/MC)
➡️ First chapter on A03 here or use the tumblr links below!
✨ Part 2: Acting On Your Best Behaviour – With the start of the Keeper’s sixth-year in Hogwarts, comes a whole slew of headache-inducing challenges from the most unexpected of places. Between insignificant pests throwing wrenches into their plans and tedious teenage drama, that the Keeper is entirely unprepared for, they wonder if they'll make it to their NEWTs without losing their sanity.
Or worse, Ominis or Sebastian.
(Ominis/Sebastian/MC and onesided Poppy/MC)
➡️ First chapter on A03 here or use the tumblr links below!
✨ Part 3: It's My Own Design – New year, new allies, new responsibilities, new avenues of revenue, and new aspects of their own Ancient Magic to explore. As the Keeper and their partners enter their last year at Hogwarts, it remains to be seen if the new school year will bring with it new problems or adversaries, but they are confident in the strength of their relationship with Sebastian and Ominis. The three of them would endure, no matter what befell them.
And if they were wrong?
What a joke, they would suffer no alternative.
(Ominis/Sebastian/MC and Natty/Poppy)
➡️ First chapter on A03 here or use the tumblr links below!
✨ Portrait Of The Pirate S – Ominis struggles through each day, his family wants him to become exactly like his older siblings. Rich, powerful, selfish, and cruel adults. He refuses, if being kind and refusing to harm others for his own benefit means being a child, then he will be a child forever.
He hears a sweet whisper from the window. Then come away with me, to Neverland. Come with me and become Peter Pan.
(Ominis/Sebastian)
➡️ First chapter on A03 here or use the tumblr links below!
〘 01 | 02 | 03 〙
Once again if you can spare some cash, here is my Patreon, where you can feed my cats their gourmet meals and keep me alive enough to type.
My eternal love and gratitude to my beloved partner, @thya-ura, for being my muse and my Alpha and Beta Reader for all my work! Please give them some love too, they draw really cute artwork of our relationship from time to time! ❤️
Ominis fought to control his expression, to keep his hands from trembling. Five years. Five years since he'd seen his parents, and this. This was the reason they'd given him the honour of their time? This was the reason they'd sought him out at Hogwarts?
The bitterness welling up within him was thick enough to gag on.
New year, new allies, new responsibilities, new avenues of revenue, and new aspects of their own Ancient Magic to explore. As the Keeper and their partners enter their last year at Hogwarts, it remains to be seen if the new school year will bring with it new problems or adversaries, but they are confident in the strength of their relationship with Sebastian and Ominis. The three of them would endure, no matter what befell them.
And if they were wrong?
What a joke, they would suffer no alternative.
Warnings: This chapter contains smut! It's er, finger lickin' good. Just, not fingers.
Warnings: Sebastian x MC x Ominis! Drug Addiction! Spoilers! Slow-burn corruption! Dark content! Fucked up 1800s orphanages! MC has no love for Anne or Solomon! Dubious happy ending (it's happy for MC, Seb and Ominis at least).
You can also read on AO3! (chapter specific warnings below)
Notes:
Warnings: Implied era-appropriate religious abuse. Blowjob!
Okay, now that I think about it retrospectively, they're horny teens, it should have been obvious that smut was going to happen after the angst, but I definitely didn't plan this lol. Oh well, who's gonna complain about more smut anyway xP
And of course, 10,400 words. Damn, that's a really round number. Well, I guess it's fine since I managed to write this chapter pretty fast. I'm better with this in-head type of writing, I suck at descriptive writing so it always takes me forever and a ton of energy.
When I was a kid in school the standard advice given by teachers to the class was always to write descriptive English composition essays and NEVER touch argumentative.
And I was always the one kid who got the opposite advice; please choose argumentative, your description of the world around you sucks balls, surely you have more to say about the trip to the market than “the light was searing my retinas and the long walk made my legs ache but I bought the items successfully”. How was the air feeling? Don't remember. What were you smelling? A lot of things. Who did you see? Human beings I guess?
Though in fairness, now that I know I'm autistic, it's probably because I was constantly experiencing sensory overload and couldn't register my environment without being hit with pain, or the extreme tunnel vision and goal oriented brain xP
Edit: And for my Tumblr-only readers, I deeply apologise, but we have finally caught up to where I am currently writing! So, you'll have to wait for the next chapters like the rest of my readers on AO3, but in the meantime, I'll also be uploading my old artwork and one of my older fics to a separate blog here on Tumblr as well. So, there'll still be some content appearing, just not really HL. Though I do have two other HL short fics in the works that will probably start going up sometime soon on both AO3 and Tumblr.
Anyway, for this fic series, my Tumblr upload time is every second Sat 3pm PST, which is this coming weekend.
The chapters do go up three hours earlier on AO3, at noon PST, just because mistakes and better ways to phrase sentences always pop up after I hit the upload button and it's far easier to edit chapters on AO3 on mobile. Tumblr lags because my chapters are too long lol
Now, although I try my best to keep to that schedule, I often have to skip an upload and I will usually announce that ahead of time on the chapter that I'm uploading. As I likely will for chapter 19 because my next week is literally full, like 9 days filled to the brim. I am so fucked. So, that would mean 4 weeks between uploads if that happens.
Also the end notes for this chapter are really long...
but the next chapter's is even longer. OTL
“Darlng.” Ominis murmured around his toothbrush, as the sound of brushing beside him slowed and gradually ground to a halt.
When he got no response, he reached across to prod the Keeper in the side with his wand and they jumped, telling him that they had indeed gotten distracted in the middle of brushing their teeth.
“Mm? O’ righ.” Came the muffled reply and the sound of their brushing resumed.
Honestly, not encouraging. The Keeper had been wearing the armlet since tea and they'd been markedly absent-minded since then.
Trailing off mid-sentence, drifting off while Ominis was talking and missing his words. Which was rather frustrating, truth be told, he'd gotten used to how attentive they always were with him, but at least they hadn't slipped up and accidentally taken some of the Pain energy.
According to them, at least.
“Hey, have either of you seen the newspaper? I wanted to finish the word search before bed.” Sebastian asked, poking his head into the bathroom.
Almost reflexively, Ominis felt the answer, that he hadn't seen it, surface in his mind. However, instead of saying it, he simply spat in the sink and began to rinse his mouth, because he was not speaking to Sebastian and hadn't since their fight in the afternoon.
Does anything even need to change? His boyfriend's words echoed in his head, and Ominis took a deep breath as he dried his hands and face.
How could Sebastian even say that? This whole Pain energy thing was supposed to be a means to an end, when they did what they needed to, the Keeper would stop taking such a dangerous thing. Going through withdrawal alone had been awful for them, surely that was enough indication of its dangers?
With all the experiments, and the ever-increasing amount of Pain energy the Keeper had to take to stay withdrawal, every day where nothing went wrong was a miracle. They just needed to keep winning the coin toss, survive taking it till Dìon castle had been brought to life and Anne was cured, and until then, they shouldn't rock the boat.
Was that not the plan? Why was Sebastian talking like the Keeper was going to be taking that poison even after they'd achieved those goals? When had he decided that the Keeper taking Pain energy forever was worth the risk? To what? Be powerful enough to kill dragons? How long did those two intend for all this to go on?
Ominis wasn't sure he could handle being under that stress for the rest of their lives together.
Even if Sebastian was right and the Keeper was immune to becoming a monster because of their Ancient Magic, as the only Ancient Mage, they could not possibly prove such a thing until they hit a problem. And that problem could easily be death.
Not to mention, if something unexpected happened and they needed to hide or lie low, and couldn't get more Pain energy, they'd be at risk of dying.
What would they do if that happened!? Ominis’ jaw tightened, no, he knew what they'd do, Sebastian would ask Ominis to cast the bloody Cruciatus curse on him, again, just to give the Keeper his Pain. Nausea churned in his stomach, sick and sour with guilt and shame.
The sound of his partners talking hummed in the background as Ominis followed them to bed, climbing onto the right side and lying down on his back tiredly, their words like senseless noise in his ears. How could they be so cavalier? As though neither were worried about the dangers and terrifying quantity of unknowns in this entire venture.
“Love...” Ominis felt a gentle touch against his face and the Keeper's voice, warm in his ear. “Thinking when tired doesn't get anyone anywhere. Try to get some sleep. You'll feel better in the morning, and we can talk more, alright?”
The endless optimism of his partners really was unbearable. Wordlessly, Ominis turned onto his side. He highly doubted that some sleep would magically fix this.
The Keeper sighed as they gazed at his curled up back, before taking a glance over at Sebastian on the other side of them as he laid down, refusing to so much as look in Ominis’ direction. They had no idea how to fix this.
They sort of agreed with Sebastian on the actual issue at hand, there hadn't been evidence so far that taking Pain energy was any worse on the body than coffee, which was also addictive but not harmful unless some idiot overdosed.
Though their confidence was more because the Keeper felt both that the short-term benefits were worth a potential cost and knew that they could weather any ailment in their lovers’ names, rather than the speculative optimism that Sebastian bore.
It was a problem that Sebastian had, being too optimistic, to the point of wishful thinking. What with how convinced he had been that the relic was the answer when there was no discernible link between Inferi and Anne's curse. It's not resolve if you delude yourself into believing that nothing would go wrong and thus never prepare for things to go wrong.
The similarity between him and the Keeper themselves, was that they simply preferred to suffer the consequences of trying their best, over letting fear halt their steps and to go to bed wishing that they had done more. To be resigned and consigned to whatever fate had in store for them, like Ominis often was.
However, they also understood that Ominis simply wasn't as resolved to accept the consequences of his or their actions. That he could not bear the thought of either of his partners coming to any harm, regardless of how worthy the cause, and that came too from a place of love. If a bit short sighted.
That Ominis was, as ever, mired in doubt. A fear that he didn't truly know his partners. A fear that burned Sebastian, the straightforward boy, hurt that someone he loved so deeply would doubt said love, after everything he'd done to prove it. For while Sebastian had few scruples, he carried a naivety that, ironically, the Keeper thought might have come from Ominis.
After all, what greater proof that a good person could use the Unforgivables, than Ominis himself? What greater evidence that exceptions existed, when an heir of Slytherin was the least purist person he knew? A blind boy, yet sensitive enough to see what few others could. If the Keeper had grown up beside a walking miracle, they might have believed in miracles too.
They knew that Sebastian would readily throw his very life away for Ominis and themselves. Though getting Ominis to see that as the selfless love it was in Sebastian's mind, rather than as the selfishness it instead was in Ominis’, was a feat that the Keeper had no clue how to accomplish.
Lying down with a tired sigh, they really hoped that this would be resolved soon, being sandwiched between the two stubborn boys in the middle of a tiff really was the worst place to be. If it were anyone else, the Keeper would have hit them both on the head and left the boys to sort it out themselves a long time ago.
All this really wasn't helping them resist taking a whiff of Pain energy either. The warm fog had been following them around as they finished preparing the third cell in anticipation of their next subject, and they'd taken the opportunity to explain the collars and their theory about the two ways one could consume Pain energy to Ominis, while he did a routine check on Macnair and Selwyn.
Though it had taken a lot of effort to do so when they kept getting distracted, by the enticing warmth of the armlet, especially with how cold the boys were being. Closing their eyes, they let the exhaustion of the day, of resisting their addiction, carry them into sleep. Hopefully they wouldn't accidentally take some while unconscious...
As the Keeper's breathing evened out beside him, Sebastian fought the urge to turn around and snuggle up to them, his eyes burning, ashamed that he couldn’t quite bring himself to apologise for losing his head earlier. He did understand that Ominis was just scared, but he was scared too goddammit.
Did being afraid give Ominis leave to hurt him this way every time he got scared? Did Ominis think it was fine to hurt Sebastian or the Keeper emotionally whenever he got anxious? The possibility was terrifying, and he didn't want to believe it could be true.
Yet, even when Sebastian had done everything he could think of to assuage Ominis’ fears, nothing had worked. If Ominis wasn't willing to meet them in the middle, couldn't even talk about things rationally, how were they supposed to get anywhere?
They didn't have ten years for Ominis to slowly overcome his fear of the Pain energy, the Keeper needed it now, to survive the trials and dangers that lay ahead. If they couldn't hide it from Ominis, and they couldn't tell him about it, what the fuck were they supposed to do!? This was a matter of life and death, why couldn't Ominis just-
Sebastian couldn't help but remember that day in the Scriptorium, when Ominis had literally refused to take an action that would save their lives. It'd been almost THREE YEARS since then, and Ominis still hadn't made a single step of headway in this area. It almost felt like Ominis didn't see anything wrong with this to begin with.
Sebastian was trying to be understanding, but he just couldn't get how Ominis could be so paralysed by fear, that he would choose death.
Just let us protect you! Sebastian wanted to grab Ominis by the shoulders and scream. We all want the same thing, to protect our shared happiness, why are we fighting like this? Why was Ominis treating him like he didn't care about his lovers? Sebastian wouldn't be trying if he didn't care. Hell, it'd be easier if he didn't care!
After all this time, it hurt that Ominis still didn't trust him.
Sniffing and scrubbing at the moisture in his eyes with his hands, Sebastian squeezed his eyes shut and tried to shove the feelings aside with his Occlumency meditation.
The Occlumency that Ominis had taught him.
Ugh, fuck it. Sebastian gave in and turned around to cling to the Keeper, pressing his face into their shoulder and taking a deep breath of their comforting scent.
Almost immediately, he felt the stress ease and his body relax. The Keeper was right here, warm and safe, and on the other side, bathed in the moon's cool glow, was Ominis, and even if he was still upset, it was assuring to know that he was here and safe too. Yeah, definitely worth it, a relieved smile formed on Sebastian's face and his tears finally ceased.
He always woke up wrapped around one of his partners anyway, he could just pretend it happened in his sleep.
On the other side of the Keeper, this whole time, Ominis’ eyes were wide open, and he lay there frozen with shock, was Sebastian crying?
He listened carefully, yeah, no doubt about it, but... why? For all his emotional tendencies, Sebastian had only ever cried during or after nightmares and that one time he had a breakdown in the Feldcroft cottage.
Was it what Ominis said? It was hard to believe that Sebastian would care enough about his words to cry, when he didn't care enough about Ominis’ feelings to stop his reckless behaviour.
Ominis had spoken truthfully, but pointing out how selfish and reckless Sebastian and the Keeper were being... perhaps he should have done that more carefully. Did Sebastian not even realise what he was doing?
The continued sniffles ate away at Ominis, he'd done that, he'd made Sebastian cry... and the guilt only worsened when he realised that it didn't just feel awful, it also felt good. To hear the effect he had on Sebastian, to feel the power he had over the proud and stubborn boy's heart, to feel some sort of control.
Bile rose in the back of Ominis’ throat, no no no no- he shook the thought away, recoiling from it in horror. That was the darkness speaking, the evil his parents were steeped in, that they'd implanted in him. He couldn’t let the poison in his veins taint the people he loved. Controlling other people with force and hurting them, that was not acceptable.
No matter how selfish they were being, no matter how much he wanted that to change, no matter how stressed Ominis was, he knew that Sebastian and the Keeper were not evil. Neither of them, no matter how frustrated he was with them, deserved to be hurt, the way Ominis had been by his family.
Nobody deserved that, period. Least of all the two people he loved so dearly that he was beset with such fear to begin with.
What am I doing? Ominis asked himself ruefully. I'm not even succeeding in stopping them, I'm just hurting them. But if I don't try to stop them, I might as well sign their death warrants. But what else could I possibly do? Leave? Threaten to break up?
That would probably hurt everybody involved, himself being the only one he would be sure to devastate, but if it got them to stop, at least it wouldn't be only hurt dealt with no progress made. Ominis bit back his own sob as he felt the bed bounce ever so slightly, listening to the now familiar sound of Sebastian turning on the bed, before his sobs and sniffles turned into snores.
I can't, Ominis wailed in his heart, mourning his own cowardice and selfishness, I can't give this up. The very thought of not having the Keeper or Sebastian as his, was nauseating. It was the catacombs all over again, how could he stand by and let this happen again?
A good friend, a good lover, would love Sebastian and the Keeper enough to sacrifice his bond with them, if it would save their lives. What a horrible person he was, Ominis lamented, then and now, he was still too selfish to do the right thing, to be a good person. He'd told the Keeper in the tomb that he might be willing to sacrifice his friendship with Sebastian, but he hadn't been.
What right had he, to be enraged at their selfishness, when Ominis himself was so hopelessly self-serving too?
We're all sinners here. It was so difficult to fight the temptation to throw all conscience to the wind. To give in to the urge to just force the Keeper and Sebastian to do what he wanted, whatever that entailed, and Ominis was tired, so tired of resisting his vile instincts.
He wanted to wake the Keeper, beg them to do it again, help him stop thinking, stop feeling, manipulate his mind into silence once more, but a part of him knew that this was too much for them to suppress. Their words had worked when they first started dating, when he had been more concerned about what they were doing with Pain energy, than what it was doing to them.
When he'd still seen them as impossibly invincible, an unbelievable creature that had powers beyond imagination, had power over both him and Sebastian. When he hadn't yet come close to losing them or seen how human and vulnerable they really were. How they too, could be wrong.
Loving them, accepting them, flaws, failures and all, had cost him the ability to uncritically leave everything up to them, to surrender reality into their hands. The irony that the more he loved them, the more terrifying the thought of losing them and the harder to trust them when they tried to soothe that fear with assurances that they couldn't guarantee. Promises they couldn't keep.
He wanted- no, needed them, the Keeper and Sebastian. Wanted to hold them both close, protected, safe.
Compelled by his need and unable to resist, Ominis turned as well and wrapped himself around the Keeper, stretching his hand across their chest to find Sebastian's and entwine their fingers together. His heart aching in his chest when he felt traces of wetness on his boyfriend's fingertips.
I'm sorry, Seb... I just don't know what to do... Ominis thought mournfully to himself as he closed his eyes.
“I've decided to open the Repository. Its power cannot lie dormant for centuries more.”
Thank you, Fig... I wouldn’t have this without you.
“After everything you've seen? What about Isidora's fate?”
Isidora's fate? A fool chasing a hopeless dream, she and I are not the same.
“Isidora wasted her ability trying to save people from themselves. I will not let others dictate what I do with this- my power.”
I have been robbed of so much. A family, a home, my dignity, my agency, Lodgok, the first friend who understood what it was like to be crushed under heel.
I will not surrender anything to anyone else ever again. Please, understand.
“You cannot possibly mean that. You, of all wizardkind, are wholly aware of the misery and pain that that could cause!”
Fig... I'm sorry, but I can't give this up. Can't you feel it? That power, I need it, I need power. I’ve finally found something worth protecting. Worth my life. Worth every life. I can't lose them. I won't let anyone take what is mine ever again.
Not even you.
“I answer to no one. Avada-"
The Keeper gasped, their eyes flying open, heart pounding a mile a minute, feeling somehow restrained, and for a moment, they tensed in fear. Before noticing the faint snores by their ear and they remembered that they were in Dìon, sleeping in their new bedroom with Sebastian and Ominis... who had been fighting.
They cast their gaze over themselves and smiled, and yet, both boys were not only cuddled up to them, but also holding hands loosely across their chest. The soft rays of dawn lay gentle on the two, their faces peaceful and the Keeper was rather relieved to see that their partners, at least, were getting a restful sleep.
They released a slow breath, it'd been a long time since they'd dreamt of Fig, let alone a nightmare of killing him. The Keeper honestly wasn't sure why they'd had such a dream, was it what Ominis had implied the evening before? That Sebastian, and by extension themselves, were monstrous for wanting to continue using that energy. An energy created by human pain.
But would they have? If Fig had survived, if he'd decided that he needed to stop them, would the Keeper have fought him? Killed him?
They'd like to think they wouldn't have, that they would have found another way, but they weren't sure that was true. Perhaps the reason they weren't as offended by Ominis’ framing, unlike Sebastian, was because they felt it was warranted. They were no saint, they'd stolen, killed, sinned, anything to survive, to win.
Demonspawn. Sinful whore. Devil.
God, if he existed, had only hellfire for the Keeper's kind, and they'd come to terms with that a long time ago. Spat their defiance on Matron's precious cross, they hadn't been able to walk for a week after that, but they'd do it again. Forgiveness? How was it their fault that they had to suck dick to stay alive? Grace? Her God could keep his fucking grace, neither she nor He had protected them a whit.
Finding out that they weren't even human, that they were what those pathetic powerless muggles called heathen pagans, one of the witches and wizards they'd burnt at the stake, none of it had been a surprise. Of course they weren't a mere muggle, of course they hadn't fit in. They were never one of them to begin with.
Coming from a place that called all their kind demonic, made Ominis’ desperate wish to be accepted by society rather pointless in the Keeper's eyes. If in a separate group of humans, their very existence was evil, then what meaning did the term ‘evil’ even have? It was arbitrary and meaningless, a popularity contest that they refused to take part in.
They gazed at Ominis’ beautiful countenance, his cheek pressed sweetly against their arm, all curled up like a cat. Still, they couldn't find it in themselves to force him to face this, it was something he would have to come to terms with on his own, they could only protect him till then.
With a tired sigh, the Keeper considered closing their eyes and going back to sleep, when they realised that something was missing.
Frowning, they cursed under their breath, the armlet peeking out from between Ominis’ arms... wasn't glowing. Fuuuuuuck.
Ominis was going to be pissed. The Keeper sighed, well, that explained the dream at least, and the reason they felt a bit warmer than usual. Trying to get a good look at the armlet, they attempted to slip their arm out of Ominis’ grasp, but unfortunately, he didn't seem very happy about that.
“Mnm, warm...” Ominis grumbled, gripping their arm tighter and rubbing his cheek against their shoulder.
The Keeper smiled softly, cute. Well, at least until he frowned and mumbled. “Why are you so warm?”
Aaand so it begins, the Keeper sighed again, not a moment more peace to enjoy. “Well, love, it seems... that, while I was unconscious, I unintentionally took today's dose-”
Ominis shot upright immediately, though he seemed to have forgotten, or not noticed, that his hand was still attached to Sebastian's and the brunet was promptly awoken, as he was yanked halfway across the Keeper by his arm.
“Wha de-” Sebastian mumbled, blinking blankly at thin air with an adorably confused expression as his hand was dropped.
Patting the messy bush of hair on his head, the Keeper gave him a soft smile too and a kiss on the forehead. “Morning, Seb.”
He blinked at them with doe-eyes for several moments, his brain visibly struggling to catch up, before he yawned and dropped his head onto their chest with a barely audible. “...mor...in...”
Ugh, why is he so cute- the Keeper couldn't resist slipping a finger under his chin to lift it and leaned down to capture his chapped lips in a proper kiss, which he returned with a dazed moan.
“Can the two of you be serious for once?” Ominis sighed irritably as he raised his wand. “I can't cast diagnosa if you're in close contact.”
“Gimmieasec-” The Keeper gave him a mumble, pressing their lips to Sebastian's one last time before withdrawing, leaving him looking as confused as he did when he first woke up, and they nudged him upright with a bemused smile. “There, just sit still and look pretty.”
“Pfft... eashy.” Sebastian gave them a dopey grin, before yawning and stretching. “Whaz goin’ on anyway...”
“Ominis is upset that I accidentally took some Pain energy while asleep.” The Keeper answered, lying back down as Ominis cast Diagnosa on them.
“Oh.” Sebastian blinked, freezing in the middle of scratching his head. “Well, that blows.”
“I'm not upset.” Ominis snapped, and both Sebastian and the Keeper stared at him sceptically. “I'm worried.”
“Well, don't be, they kiss just fine.” Sebastian waved a hand at them with a grin. “Feel free to try for yourself.”
“Sebastian.” Ominis bit out through gritted teeth.
Not wanting to test his patience, the Keeper quickly sat up and slipped their fingers around his hand, clenched tightly around his wand. “And I'm sure you found that I'm quite alright, yes?”
“Well-” Ominis paused, pursing his lips together. “That's- that's the problem, I can't tell!”
The Keeper blinked and frowned as he shook their hand off, standing from the bed and pacing across the carpet in a fit of agitation. “Healers don't just magically know what it looks like when something is going wrong! All I see are elevated adrenaline levels, increased blood flow, heart palpitations, heightened activity in parts of your brain-”
He stopped and ran his hands through his hair, voice strained and eyes almost crazed. “And I don't know what any of it means for you!”
The pain and fear in his voice seemed to have blown the sleepy fog from Sebastian's brain and he tumbled from the bed, stumbling towards Ominis, before hesitating as though uncertain if an embrace would be well received. Which was probably reasonable, especially after Ominis rejected the Keeper's comfort.
“I'm sure we'll figure it out.” Sebastian tried, approaching Ominis like he was a wild animal. “That stuff is so powerful, if it were doing something bad, it'd be obvious even to us, and- and to them, who's experiencing it, right?”
“Merlin's balls, Sebastian.” Ominis groaned, so hard that it came out more like a sob. “They've already told us that it feels good to take! We can't trust their experience of it, do you think cancer patients realise they're dying till they're halfway there!? Do alcoholics know they're destroying their liver? And by the time it's obvious, it'll probably be irreversible!”
“Well, I've been taking it for two years already, surely that's long enough to be certain of its effects.” The Keeper reasoned, joining Sebastian in trying to soothe Ominis, who looked worryingly close to a breakdown. While he seemed to be more coherent after a good night's sleep, he was clearly no less distressed than the night before.
“We don't know how it works!” Ominis exclaimed. “Any negative effects could be something that culminates with consumption, compounding and building over prolonged use! Even if you're fine now, this constant energy use could have long-term effects!”
And there he goes again with the most extreme what-ifs, the Keeper gave him a helpless smile. “Well, that's not right now, and so that's something I'm willing to risk. To protect and preserve us , and to cure Anne. Nothing ventured, nothing gained.”
“How can you say that!?” Ominis shook his head.
“Because I'll do whatever it takes to protect our happiness.” The Keeper answered honestly.
At their words, Ominis bristled, his fear and stress turning to anger. How did they not understand what they were doing? Saying that they were hurting him for him. How cruel, was he supposed to feel grateful for this fear and pain?
“That's bullshite! My happiness necessitates both of you! You can only say that because you're not the one who'd be left behind!” Ominis burst out, fists tight and hot tears forming in his eyes against his will. Like aunt Noctua, it was so bloody worth it to die down in the Scriptorium, chasing the betterment of our family, at the risk of leaving me all alone in that house.
“The two of you can throw your lives away because you don't have to be the one left here alone!” Selfish, they were both so selfish, Ominis thought bitterly. Sebastian had been fine risking his life to save Anne, if he died, at least he wouldn't have to live through Anne's death, but he would leave me to mourn both of them.
“That's not-” Sebastian's voice cracked, and he took a shaky breath. “That's not the reason! We do what we have to because we don't want to leave you alone! How can you think that we- that I'd care so little about them, about you!?”
Ah, I'm doing it again. The sound of Sebastian crying, a few hours ago, echoed in Ominis’ mind. I'm hurting him again. Why is this coming out so wrong every time?
“...I'm sorry...” Ominis whispered. “I just don't know if I can keep doing this.”
“This?” The Keeper echoed warily.
“This! Us! All of it! I'm so scared that something will go wrong! Maybe we should just-” Ominis covered his mouth with a sob, his throat closing up around his words.
“A- are you saying you want- want to break-” Sebastian asked faintly, sounding like he couldn’t comprehend how this was even on the table.
“I don't know!” Ominis shouted, brushing tears from his eyes. “I can't help, but I can't not help. I don't want to know what you're doing, but I want to know so I can stop you, but I can't even do that! If I do nothing, I'm complicit in your demise, if I do something, I'm responsible if I fail. There's no winning anywhere in this!”
“I'm powerless.” Ominis murmured, a hysterical laugh bubbling up from within his chest. “Powerless then, powerless now. Nothing I do changes anything, I just want that feeling to stop. It would be better if I'd never been bor-”
His words were knocked right out of his mind, and his ears rang with the sharp bite of a slap. The impact reverberated through his skull, so all-encompassing and shocking that he barely felt the sting spreading across his cheek.
Then there were hands gripping his shoulders tightly and the Keeper's voice, more broken than he'd ever heard before, hissed in his ear in a harsh whisper. “Never go there. Nobody takes something that belongs to me, not even you. Without you, I'd easily make Gnarlak and Ranrok look like saints.”
The Keeper's words were heavy with dark promise and Ominis’ breathing was shallow, mind still rattled and uncomprehending as they cupped his burning cheek, the gentleness of their touch contrasting the force with which they'd slapped him.
“And you're wrong.” The Keeper continued, and he felt a strange sense of relief, of surrender at their words, he wanted to be wrong, yes, please- “You are not powerless in this relationship, you just can't see the power you have over us, because you can't compare it to how we would be without you here.”
There was a smile in their voice as the Keeper pressed their forehead against his. “I've told you before, we need someone sane in this relationship. Do you really think I could have overcome my addiction without your control and guidance? You know how greedy I am when there's something I want.”
A pair of warm arms embraced him from behind, wrapping firmly around Ominis’ waist, shaky breaths in his ear and wetness on his nape, Sebastian's chest firm against his back. “And I wouldn’t have been able to stay sane when Anne got cursed, if you weren't reminding me to eat and forcing me to sleep. If you weren't curled up next to me while I read forbidden tomes in the Undercroft. I'd have lost my mind.”
Their words sank slowly into his mind, as his breathing calmed, and Ominis couldn't help but release a soft huff. “I thought you were doing homework.”
“Well, sometimes.” Sebastian gave him a trembling laugh and without thinking, Ominis followed it with his own.
“If I cared more about my own feelings, I wouldn’t have stayed with you while the Keeper was off with Poppy last year.” Sebastian murmured after a moment's thought. “I'm not good at it, but I do try to think about how my actions affect you.”
“Even though I hurt you?” Ominis whispered, reaching up to touch Sebastian's cheek where it rested on his shoulder, damp with drying tears. “Even though I can't slow either of you down without hurting you every time. Even though I can't just be a good boyfriend and remind you to be careful and wait patiently for you to come home?”
“How dare you call our boyfriend anything less than perfect.” The Keeper prodded him in the chest. “And I don't know what you've been smoking, but what you're describing isn't easy. Not by a long shot. I wouldn’t be able to sit by and do nothing.”
“Sebastian did, he was worried too but he didn't try to stop you from taking more jobs, or try to... hurt you into stopping.” Ominis protested weakly.
“Excuse me.” Sebastian huffed. “Did you miss the second half of that? I didn't stop them, but I went with them, because doing nothing but waiting is agony. That's why I went with them to the pub, that's why I'm going with them on their next job. It's why I made the dagger for them and why I tried so hard to find a cure for Anne.”
“Doing nothing is torture for me.” Sebastian pressed a kiss to Ominis’ neck. “I'm sorry I didn't realise it was becoming torture for you too.”
“It... it didn't use to be.” Ominis admitted, a bitter chuckle emerging as he traced the shape of Sebastian's hands on his waist. “I used to feel better if I gave someone else responsibility. It doesn't work anymore. I don't know why, but I haven't been able to do that for a while, I can't escape this fear. I don't know how to handle it.”
“I'm sorry that we've made you feel alone in worrying, but you don't have to carry that alone.” The Keeper murmured, a sweet kiss of their lips against his. “We can help you find a way to manage it, together.”
Ominis felt his breath catch, tears welling in his eyes. “I- I don't, after every time I hurt you both in my fear, how can you forgive me? I don't deserv-”
“If you think anyone else could be in your position, could do any better in your position, you couldn't be more mistaken.” Sebastian interrupted. “It's enough that you know you've hurt us and don't want to, are trying not to, because we can help with that.”
“Sebastian...” Ominis turned in his arms, tracing his fingers across Sebastian's brow and cheeks to see his expression, chest tightening at the unmistakably gentle crinkle around his eyes.
“We shouldn't dwell on things we can't change, instead we can look to the future and consider ways to prevent bad things from happening again.” Sebastian pressed a kiss to his palm, and Ominis’ eyes widened at his words, the same words he'd spoken to Sebastian himself a little over a year ago, after his breakdown in Feldcroft.
“I've hurt you so many times over the years too, and you've always forgiven me and stayed by my side... and I loved you for that.” Sebastian's voice was a quiet whisper now. “Loved you since third-year.”
A small smile lifted Ominis’ lips. “And I've loved you since the end of our first-year.”
“That long?” Sebastian sounded surprised and Ominis nodded shyly.
“Well, I can't beat either of those.” The Keeper sighed, dropping their chin onto Ominis’ shoulder, now that it was free. “Between the two of you, I'm starting to feel left out.”
The familiar words got a laugh out of Sebastian, and Ominis could hear the wry smile in his voice. “A lot has changed since the first time I said that, hasn't it?”
“Really?” Ominis huffed dryly. “I feel like I'm still getting led around by you two.”
“I disagree.” The Keeper chuckled. “Have you forgotten how you kept me from killing the woman living just outside our territory?”
Ominis blinked, that's right, he'd felt it then, the hope that he had the ability to change the minds of Sebastian and the Keeper. To change their course of direction, that's why he'd tried to do it again, but it hadn't worked.
“Didn't manage to change your minds this time.” Ominis murmured bitterly, moving reluctantly when the Keeper tugged him towards the bed to sit down on its edge.
“Ominis, that's the problem, back then, we agreed on the goal and then discussed ways of getting there that satisfied all of us.” They pointed out. “This time, you jumped straight to changing our minds.”
“What else could I change, besides your minds?” Ominis asked, feeling a tad defensive at the implication that there was any option besides that. If he could think of one, he'd have suggested it by now.
“Well, we can discuss the facts of the situation and try to find something that we can change. You don't have to think of a solution alone.” Sebastian pointed out as he took a seat beside Ominis, while the Keeper remained standing.
“I want to keep taking the energy, but we have possible unknown negative effects to account for that would make it dangerous.” The Keeper hummed. “I feel like all we need to do is make the unknowns known.”
“But it's a fact that I can't know what a warning sign looks like, the point where I can tell that something is wrong would already be too late.” Ominis sighed, before pausing. Wait, too late? Would not then all he need do, be to see the effects accelerated, to see what ‘too late’ looked like?
But... that meant involving himself in the Keeper's human experiments. Worse still, finding his answers would require that they actively try to turn a subject into a monster or kill them by Pain energy overdose. Could he really do such an inhumane thing? Then again...
His mind returned to the scans he'd done on Macnair last evening. The boy's body was wasting away, frail and weak, his amygdala had completely ceased to function, and his endocrine system seemed to be damaged so severely that Ominis felt that he had no hope of recovery. Did Macnair even deserve it? He couldn’t imagine being in that condition, what suffering was the boy experiencing?
At the same time, Pain energy felt good to take, with his will empty, it would be safe to give him that energy without him trying to break out using its power, rather than injecting it painfully with the collar. Would that not be a mercy instead? To let the mindless boy experience one last taste of pleasure, ending his suffering with bliss.
“Macnair is not doing so well, what do you two plan to do with him?” Ominis asked tentatively.
Having been watching him deeply immersed in thought, the Keeper quickly caught on, quite surprised that Ominis would consider experimentation to overcome this obstacle. No, he wouldn't be able to do that, not consciously at least, they knew his mind well enough to know that. What was his angle?
Bringing up Macnair’s health... perhaps he was trying to frame his participation as charity, after all, the subjects were scum that were already in perpetual suffering, maybe he wanted to contextualise being a grim reaper as mercy. They did wonder how he would justify the pain of collar injection, but they could always help him out there.
Well, those were quite some mental gymnastics he was hoping to do, but hey, any effort from him to cooperate was welcome.
“He doesn't provide any energy thanks to his ripped aura, so I was considering attempting to stitch it up. Which would require pumping him with energy, like finding a leak in a cup by filling it.” The Keeper answered. “I don't have much other use for him, but I would keep him alive, just in case I have need of him.”
The Keeper smiled as they laid forth the bait for Ominis to take, and was satisfied when he frowned, saying. “I think it's quite cruel to keep him in a suspended state of suffering...”
The Keeper silently raised a finger to quieten Sebastian when his expression became indignant, mouthing a simple ‘wait’.
“...it would be kinder to end his suffering. I know you want to have more than one subject at a time, but you'll be acquiring a new one, yes?” Ominis asked, as though he were bargaining with the cruel cruel Keeper to entertain his benevolent petition on poor little Macnair’s behalf.
The Keeper gave him a fond smile, he was so cute, still clinging to those paper-thin illusions that only they could provide. “Yes, and I suppose since I'll be getting another shortly, Macnair’s death won't be too much of a loss, but I'd rather make use of him, even on his way out.”
They would give him what he needed.
Ominis smiled. “I was thinking that I could monitor his condition as you feed him energy, preferably C-Pain in the same manner you consume it. That way, I can compare its effects on a regular wizard to its effects on you as an Ancient Mage.”
As Ominis explained his suggestion, understanding began to dawn on Sebastian's face and his expression became slightly conflicted.
“Same manner, hm.” The Keeper frowned. “That runs the risk of making him too powerful for even myself to defeat. I would also need to find out what distinguishes a painful injection of Pain energy from regular consumption.”
“It has to be the same manner you do it. Otherwise, we can't be certain that our findings would apply to you.” Ominis insisted. “Without mind and willpower, surely he wouldn't be as much of a threat as Ranrok was, and you defeated him without the aid of Pain energy.”
He had a point, the Keeper folded their arms thoughtfully, though it was amusing to hear Ominis defending their strength when it was convenient for him, and Sebastian was staring incredulously at him for likely the same reason. Still, to what ends was he pushing so hard for this?
...it would be kinder.
He'd said ‘kinder’, not more merciful, perhaps that was it? Did Ominis think it would absolve him of being Macnair’s executioner if the boy got to die in power rather than in pain? That dying in pain was ‘cruel’? Well, the Keeper didn't see any particular difference, after everything they'd done to him, murder was murder regardless, but if it made Ominis feel better, boy did they not fucking care.
“Fair enough, I'll see if I can figure out what the difference between collar injection and consumption are, and if I can feed him C-Pain energy.” The Keeper nodded and both boys sagged in relief.
“Thank Merlin, we finally have a plan.” Sebastian groaned, flopping backwards on the bed. “I'm bloody exhausted.”
“I- well-” Ominis cleared his throat and tucked a strand of hair behind his ear sheepishly. “I suppose, I'm sorry... for- well, making this more difficult than it maybe had to be.”
“Nah.” Sebastian shook his head, reaching out to take Ominis by the arm and tug him down, while the Keeper reclined on the bed beside them.
Catching himself on his arms, Ominis blinked in surprise, hovering over Sebastian as the brunet grinned and lifted his head just enough to give Ominis a peck on the lips.
“It's good that you got it all out. I mean, I could do without getting hurt.” Sebastian chuckled when Ominis gave him an annoyed look. “But it happened how it needed to happen, we can always do better next time. I could've handled it better too. I just- you drive me crazy.”
“Do I?” Ominis murmured with a small smile, folding his arms on Sebastian's chest and resting his head on them with a peaceful expression.
“Obviously.” Sebastian rolled his eyes and propped his head up on an arm, brushing his fingers through Ominis’ messy blond strands.
There was a soft, and undeniably loving crinkle around the corners of Sebastian's eyes, as he gazed at Ominis, idly caressing his cheek for several minutes, fingers brushing across the little uneven patches of peach fuzz that were growing.
As he did, Ominis basked in the gentle soothing touches, until they stopped, and Sebastian released something between a huff and a sigh. Tipping his head curiously to the side, Ominis asked. “Sebastian?”
“Nnnngg, how long are you just going to stare at us like that!?” Sebastian suddenly burst out, his cheeks quite red, and the Keeper gave him a low chuckle.
“I'm just enjoying the view, don't mind me.” The Keeper assured with a broad and amused grin, continuing to observe the sweet scene as they lay casually on their side, head propped up on an elbow.
“Right. Ominis is the one who's blind, not me. Merlin knows what's going on in there.” Sebastian eyed them suspiciously, and at their silent, unflinching grin, gave an aggravated huff. “Fine, might as well give you something to look at then.”
Sebastian propped himself up on his elbows and pressed his lips against Ominis’, who chuckled softly as Sebastian rolled them over, so he could pin Ominis to the sheets.
“Sebas-” Ominis’ exasperated sigh was quickly smothered by Sebastian, the brunet straddling his thighs, eagerly slipping his tongue between Ominis’ lips to swallow his words.
Coaxing a quiet groan from Ominis as he ran his fingers down the blond's neck, and the Keeper would readily admit that this was indeed a much better show, and one they would most certainly never tire of watching. The brief flashes of heated muscle entwined within the spaces between their lips, the way Sebastian shuddered when Ominis’ hands travelled down to his hips, gripping firmly as he ground their waists together.
Exquisite.
Cheeks aflame, Sebastian's mouth left Ominis’ to gasp as the blond's hardening length rubbed against his, releasing a low moan at the sensation and pressing his lips to Ominis’ throat as he rocked back eagerly. Only for Ominis to make a soft sound of discomfort and crane his face away.
“Merlin's bea- your beard, Sebastian, is getting too much for this!” Ominis complained, shoving Sebastian's head a distance away with a hand. “Are you trying to sandpaper my jawline into shape?”
“Please don't, I think it's perfectly shaped as it is.” The Keeper snickered.
“Oh, come on, Ominis, it's just a bit of fuzz.” Sebastian grumbled, his words muffled around the palm pressed against his cheek.
“You call this a bit of fuzz!?” Ominis exclaimed, running his nails along the bristles on Sebastian's jaw and producing an amusingly loud scratchy sound. “I've no doubt you look like a vagabond right now.”
“The kind of handsome, roguish vagabond that will steal your heart and make off with your virginity?” Sebastian grinned and the Keeper burst into laughter at the unamused glare Ominis levelled at him.
“The kind of vagabond that is homeless and in dire need of a razor.” Ominis retorted.
“Well, I've been busy the last two mornings, and I wasn't exactly in the mood to shave last night, now was I.” Sebastian grumbled, and Ominis’ eyes immediately darkened.
The Keeper quickly interjected, before the atmosphere could sour. “Why don't you go brush and shave then? That way, you'll be able to give Ominis a blowjob if he sees fit to grant you the honour.”
Sebastian immediately brightened and he grabbed Ominis by the shoulders. “Alright, I'll clean up and then I'm finally gonna get to see what they're always raving about.”
“Wha- wait- I didn't agre-” Ominis stammered, his face completely red as Sebastian nearly flew off the bed and into the adjoining bathroom, before turning towards the Keeper with an incredulous expression. “You rave about my- my-”
The Keeper gave him an unrepentant grin. “You do have a lovely pecker, darling. Rather outstanding really, few are quite as fortunate in that regard.”
“Salazar save me.” Ominis muttered, covering his face and climbing out of the bed to follow after Sebastian. “Sebastian, I never agreed to anything!”
“Wai ‘ot?” Sebastian mumbled around his toothbrush.
“It would give him some incentive to take care of himself. Pups need something to strive for when in training.” The Keeper chuckled as they slipped around Ominis and into the bathroom to get their own toothbrush.
“Exac'ly!” Sebastian spat in the sink before pausing. “Hang on train-”
“My dick is not a carrot!” Ominis exclaimed.
“Of course not, it's closer to a lollipop.” The Keeper grinned, very much amused by this line of discussion.
Idly collecting their toothbrush, they began cleaning their teeth at the porcelain sink that stood on the left of the entrance to the large alcove bathtub, while on the right of it, stood Sebastian at the second sink, slathering his face with cream.
Ominis groaned and ran a hand over his face.
“Look, it's annoying!” Sebastian exclaimed as he quickly slid the razor over his jaw. “I have to waste ten minutes every morning or I'll start looking like my uncle. Surely, I deserve a reward when I actually do it.”
“Well, you're not the only one that has to shave. See there, I need a shave too.” Ominis gestured at the patches of fuzz on his chin and upper lip.
“Those tiny things?” Rolling his eyes, Sebastian strode over and took Ominis’ chin, rubbing some of the leftover cream into his skin with a thumb. “Alright, hold still.”
Ominis obediently stilled, and allowed Sebastian to deftly whisk off the few bristles that were present, the brunet complaining the whole way. “Come on, these are so fine and easy to shave... and you can go a whole week without shaving before they show up! See? Done.”
Sebastian wiped the remaining cream off with a towel and beamed proudly at his handiwork, before returning to the mirror and his own shaving. “Why are you so reluctant anyway? Don't you always complain about me talking too much?”
Ominis’ cheeks flushed, the sheer thought of Sebastian's mouth around him making it difficult to think through the swarm of feelings that that idea conjured. “It's just- it's hard to imagine I suppose.”
Finishing up with their morning routine, the Keeper stepped aside for Ominis to use that sink. “Don't you feel bad for Sebastian? He even helps you shave, such a good boy deserves a reward.”
Ominis sighed as he washed his face, and the Keeper handed him his toothbrush. “Fine, I suppose if you nutters want it so much.”
“Yes!” Sebastian hissed with excitement as he washed the cream and hair from his face.
Several minutes later, a rather adorably embarrassed Ominis was seated on the edge of the bed, looking like he was on the verge of passing out. While Sebastian knelt on a pillow, that the Keeper had passed him, between Ominis’ knees, lowering his sleeping pants to reveal his partially erect member.
Despite his earlier bravado, Sebastian seemed equally embarrassed as he ran his fingers lightly along the fine blond hairs that Ominis’ length was nestled in. Eyeing it with an almost resolute gaze for several moments, Sebastian leaned forward and gave his tip a firm lick, making Ominis jolt with surprise and release a soft moan, covering his face shyly a moment later.
The Keeper sighed, what was with this blushing maiden atmosphere? Somehow even after everything they'd done together, the two boys could still get all flustered like virgins. Was it because the Keeper wasn't involving themselves and just watching? Or because they weren't leading?
Now that they thought about it, every time the three of them had been together, it had been mostly propelled by the Keeper. Perhaps their partners had simply been emboldened by their unabashed attitude towards sex. With that in mind, it might be better for them to let the two boys explore at their own pace for once.
As the Keeper pondered this, Sebastian licked his lips nervously, quite encouraged by how quickly Ominis had hardened fully, before placing them tentatively against Ominis’ crown, and allowed it to slip past his lips.
At the warmth and sensation, Ominis released another shaky moan, Salazar save him, he really wasn't going to last very long. Just the idea that Sebastian, his proud Sebastian, was on his knees and taking his cock, was enough to make his head swim. His hands twitched, gripping tightly at the blanket he was sitting on, as he felt himself touch the back of Sebastian's throat.
He still remembered how good it'd felt, to thrust into the Keeper's throat, it had been almost scary, how quickly he'd lost control, but their confidence and skill had made it easy to get swept up in the heat, to forget his inhibitions. Sebastian wasn't nearly as confident or experienced as them and Ominis wasn't sure how far he could go. He didn't want to hurt Sebastian.
With a pinch of frustration, Sebastian lifted his head to take a breath, before trying again, pushing Ominis deeper into his mouth, but was once again unable to swallow enough to reach the base. He pressed on anyway, but quickly found himself gagging on it and had to lift his head again to cough. Goddammit, why was this so much more difficult than when he'd serviced the Keeper with his mouth?
“A- are you alright? Don't overdo it, Sebastian.” Ominis asked, trying desperately to hide how good it had felt when Sebastian's hot and wet throat closed around him uncontrollably, how much he wanted to shove the brunet's head back down to feel it again.
He'd never had the Keeper choke on him before, how could something so bad feel so good? The way Sebastian’s throat had rippled around him, pulsing and tightening, and Merlin- the sound. The sound of Sebastian choking, he could hear the wetness of his saliva clinging to his throat, feel it rolling down his cock to touch the sensitive skin of his balls.
“It's-” Sebastian cleared his throat, tears beading in his eyes. “It's fine, I'm alright.”
Without another word, he took Ominis into his mouth again, trying once more to take him further into his throat. The Keeper had done it, surely he could too. So, he struggled to hold his instinct to gag and pressed his head down harder, when Ominis’ hips bucked, and he promptly choked again.
“Sorry! I'm sorry!” Ominis immediately exclaimed, lifting Sebastian's head himself, and baulking at the tears he could feel against his thumbs.
However, as Ominis’ hands moved automatically to clean the fluids from Sebastian's face, he couldn’t stop himself from shuddering at the expression the brunet was wearing. Sebastian looked absolutely wrecked, eyebrows slanted upwards, his mouth hanging open, lips stretched wide from his cock. As guilty as he felt, Ominis knew he'd never forget the image his hands had shown him.
“‘S fine.” Sebastian mumbled, coughing and swallowing, a little dazed by how hot that had felt, his prim and pompous Ominis ramming his cock into his mouth like that.
Sebastian was starting to see why the Keeper liked blowing Ominis. Though, the choking he could probably do without, at least for now, while he still didn't know what the fuck he was doing.
With that, he turned slightly to ask the Keeper, who had been suspiciously silent the entire time. “How do you do it?”
“Do what, love?” The Keeper asked absently in return, a tad occupied committing everything they'd just witnessed to memory, especially Sebastian's fucked out expression. So, Ominis actually liked choking, good to know.
“Well, take Ominis... all the way.” Sebastian replied with an adorable squirm of the hips, likely rubbing himself against the tent in his sleeping pants.
The Keeper chuckled fondly, ever the overachiever of course. They paused to think, well, they did have the bed, it'd certainly be far more comfortable to start with, and it wasn't like Sebastian had to worry about how vulnerable the position was, unlike they had, and it'd give Ominis more control.
“You want to straighten out your throat. Here.” The Keeper stood and helped Sebastian to his feet. “It'll be easier if you lie down on your back, with your head hanging off the edge.”
Sebastian obediently followed their instructions as the Keeper also took Ominis’ hand and guided him to stand, wrapping their arms around his waist and pressing against his back as they whispered into his ear. “And you can stand here and fuck his throat.”
“Isn't this a little dangerous? He can't move away.” Ominis asked worriedly, though his expression and the way his length twitched made it obvious how much he liked the idea.
“It's alright, I can just tap your leg if I need to breathe.” Sebastian patted Ominis’ thigh, his half-lidded eyes heated as he regarded Ominis’ erection, hanging just inches from his lips, and his tongue darted out to lap at it.
Ominis gasped at the sensation and offered no further protest as the Keeper held his length in position and used their own hips to nudge Ominis’ forward, watching in delight as his hardness slid smoothly into Sebastian's throat.
“Oh-” Ominis moaned as he buried himself in, all the way to the base. The Keeper took his twitching hands, and placed them on the bulge in Sebastian's throat, before letting go as he began, of his own accord, to trace the shape of his own erection stretching Sebastian's skin.
“Doing alright down there?” The Keeper asked, and Sebastian flashed them a thumbs up, making an affirmative sound around the obstruction in his throat and getting another moan from Ominis as a result.
Chuckling, the Keeper murmured into Ominis’ ear, lapping teasingly at the shell. “There, you can let go, love. Stop thinking and do what feels good.”
With a keening sound in his throat, Ominis tentatively moved his hips, drawing back slightly, before pushing in again, shuddering as his sensitive tip rubbed against the back of Sebastian's tongue. The hollow squelch of his cock sealing the inside of Sebastian’s throat, creating a vacuum, a space where only he could pass through, the thought of pouring his seed inside Sebastian making his mind melt.
Ominis couldn’t help but rock harder into him, panting from the heat that was building in his body, the Keeper's warm chest against his back, their hands slipping under his shirt to rub and tug at his sensitive nipples. It feels so good-
He felt a few taps against his thigh, as Sebastian's throat closed around him again, and for a moment, it failed to register in Ominis’ mind, but as the Keeper tugged his hips backwards with a firm grip, he recalled its meaning. The air felt cold on his dick, after being inside Sebastian's warmth, but he was grateful that the Keeper had helped him stop.
“T- thank-” Ominis muttered as he turned his head to the side, and the Keeper captured his lips with their own, while Sebastian coughed and gasped for breath.
Releasing Ominis’ lips, the Keeper murmured gently. “Try to keep a consistent rhythm and pull out every four thrusts to let him breathe.”
Swallowing thickly, Ominis nodded, while Sebastian gave a weak laugh, and asked. “You were counting?”
“I was.” The Keeper chuckled, taking Ominis’ length and guiding him back into Sebastian's mouth, purring into Ominis ear. “Aren't you two lucky to have me.”
Moaning softly, Ominis nodded automatically, as they gripped his hips and guided him in at a languid pace, his fingers wrapping around their wrist and spasming as he fucked Sebastian's throat at their coaxing. It was a struggle to keep counting through the haze of pleasure and it helped to have their guidance, especially when it became more difficult to stop every time Sebastian choked.
Though, he was actually rather glad for the need to keep track of his thrusts, it was probably the only reason that he hadn't come yet. The feeling of Sebastian's hot and tight throat around him was amazing, the knowledge that he couldn’t do anything but lie there and take his cock, insane.
This was the same Sebastian who never stepped back from a fight, letting Ominis use his body for his pleasure, groaning around his cock, the taut skin of his throat stretching under his palm with every thrust.
“He's touching himself.” The Keeper's voice murmured into his ear and Ominis released a confused sound, having a hard time processing their words with his lust clouded mind, and they chuckled. “Sebastian, he's touching himself as you fuck his throat, he's so hard just from this.”
The moment he understood, Ominis released a loud moan, reaching his peak immediately, and his erection throbbed in Sebastian's mouth as his seed spurted down his throat. Unable to stop himself from burying his length as deep as he could go and holding himself there for a shuddering moment. Feeling ecstasy flood his body as Sebastian choked on his cum, before remembering that he was stopping Sebastian from breathing and quickly pulled out.
“Sor- sorry, I should- should have warned you-” Ominis gasped, leaning against the Keeper as his knees went weak.
“No, no. I take full responsibility for that.” The Keeper chuckled from behind him, flicking their wand and casting a quick Anapneo charm to clear Sebastian's throat quickly.
After panting for a few seconds, Sebastian gave them a small pout from where his head still hung upside down, his voice rough and thick. “Aw, I wanted to swallow that.”
Ominis released a sound that was somewhere between a squeak of surprise and a moan, while the Keeper laughed and reached down to pat Sebastian on the cheek. “There's always next time.”
He nuzzled at their hand with a hum. “How do you just keep going without needing to stop to breathe?”
“It's possible to breathe while giving a blowjob, it takes some... practice to get the right timing. But not everyone can, so don't feel bad if you don't manage it.” Straightening and placing a kiss on Ominis’ flushed cheek, the Keeper flashed Sebastian a wide smirk. “Now, my turn.”
Seeing it from his spot on the bed, Sebastian swallowed, and his erection twitched in his grip.
“How long will he have us play the villain so he can be the saint?”
“However long he needs it.”
“Does it not hurt?”
“A tad, but I take comfort in knowing that it's an illusion and that he needs it. Are you willing to deny him an illusion so vital to his mental wellness? We all know what it is, even him, somewhere deep down. And now that you understand that he believes it for his own sanity, not because he really sees us as despicable, does it not hurt less?”
“I suppose so...”
“Chin up, my love. I'm sure it won't be forever, he just needs time, and this will keep him with us and happy till that day comes.”
“...you're right, it just- it does still hurt, and it'll take time to get used to remembering that it's an illusion for him. That he doesn't actually think we're cruel. But you're right, it's worth it. He's worth it.”
“Good, I'm glad you agree. Now go get the bottle to feed Shai.”
“Ugh, Ominis is worth getting hurt for, but I'm not sure this one is...”
Notes:
Ominis: I'm a bad person? *cries*
The Keeper: I'm a bad person? You're right bitch.
Sebastian: I'm not bad, you're bad, fuck you.
I hope no one gets offended by the Christian abuse stuff, I mean, it's historically accurate and I think the Keeper's response is a rather common response to aggressive religious abuse. Particularly considering the circumstances.
In a way, the Keeper's mentality is a progressive/globalised perspective, in one country's culture, A might be “good” but in another culture it's “bad”, once we realise and understand that neither are right nor wrong, just different ways of living and doing things, we actually become more accepting and kinder towards ourselves and each other. Plus, if you call someone bad even when they try their best, why would they keep trying?
FYI, the amygdala is the part of the brain that processes emotion and the endocrine system is responsible for releasing hormones like dopamine, that manage our emotions as well.
Here's a thing about decision making. Our human brains are super defensive and (like with anxiety) tend to overcompensate to keep us from making mistakes, and often, its arguments are not even rooted in reality to begin with.
Studies have shown that when trying to decide if we should take an action or not, our brains simulate the worst case possible and we get hit with the pain of that worst case scenario immediately. Like, on the spot. Whereas when simulating the potential good result, we don't experience the joy/satisfaction/achievement from it.
And on top of that, the pain of failure is multiplied by 2 (or more) during simulation while positive results are halved in emotional value. This means that we're not making our decisions objectively, they're vibes based rather than looking at the reality of the situation.
To make things worse, when stressed or fatigued, our amygdala gets even more sensitive and we can become even more ridiculously pessimistic and afraid to take any action.
That's why when someone is going off on a panic attack, you need to calm them down first before trying to reason with them. (Preferably not with a slap.) People need to feel good in order to think rationally, which sucks when the decision that needs to be made is the thing causing stress xP
In this chapter, Ominis basically chooses whether he wants to be like his parents or not. Victims of abuse, especially children, tend to either become like their abusers or swing the opposite way.
His parents were very black/white simplistic in their logic, “if you don't obey us and be a muggle torturing evil person, it means you don't love/respect us”. So by default he's like that too, “if I ask you to stop because you're upsetting me and you don't, it means you don't care about me”. Rather than considering that there might be other options if discussed or that people could have reasons they can't stop that don't mean you matter less, but that those other reasons matter more.
He understands, deep down, that his parents hadn't manage to force him to become like them, all they ended up doing was hurt him. The problem is that Ominis genuinely doesn't know what to do if someone doesn't do what he wants, all his examples were either his parents’ “hurt them till they do it”, or Solomon and Anne's “cut ties”. He doesn't have good examples of the correct option “compromise and discussion”. So this chapter, was him understanding that there was always a third option there.
I wonder if anyone caught that the Keeper's last line in the dream “I answer to no one.” Mirrors Ranrok's line “Goblinkind shall answer to no one.” The classic fear of becoming the monster you beat xD
So, if a dick is too big, breathing through the nose in the brief flash of pull-out-for-next-thrust, won't be possible, but if anatomy allows for it, the dick wielder needs to is keep a stable rhythm and the blower can breathe in-between. Or just pause to let the blower breathe, yo. This work will not be responsible for death by dick.
Also, wow that blowjob scene was hard to keep gender neutral for the Keeper, but I'm pretty proud of it xD
Making it ambiguous if Sebastian found the Keeper easier to blow because they aren't as long/thick as Ominis or because licking pussy is easier than not choking on dick. Leaving it up to readers if the Keeper's “my turn” refers to them taking a go at Sebastian's throat themselves or if they're afab and take Sebastian's place to let Sebastian have a go at their throat or even sit on his face.
Whatever answer you chose, it's the right answer. That's what progressive means xD
Just kidding, sort of xP
P.S. Isn't Sebastian shaving Ominis so cute?
Also the outward appearance versus internal sexual dynamic here is so funny;
Ominis: looks like an angel - has the filthiest mind
Sebastian: cheeky bastard - wears a romantic rosy filter over his eyes
Keeper: stoic - non-stop maniacal "mine mine mine" chant
Many thanks once again, to my Patreon, cheeky_idler, for naming Shai as a Paid member with voting & suggestion power! ;)
Depiction of a scene taking place after Chapter 16 of It's My Own Design, where Sebastian, Ominis and the Keeper (MC) are resting together in animagus form!
Read the fic here on Tumblr or A03!
You can also view it in HD for free on my Patreon page!
Ominis fought to control his expression, to keep his hands from trembling. Five years. Five years since he'd seen his parents, and this. This was the reason they'd given him the honour of their time? This was the reason they'd sought him out at Hogwarts?
The bitterness welling up within him was thick enough to gag on.
New year, new allies, new responsibilities, new avenues of revenue, and new aspects of their own Ancient Magic to explore. As the Keeper and their partners enter their last year at Hogwarts, it remains to be seen if the new school year will bring with it new problems or adversaries, but they are confident in the strength of their relationship with Sebastian and Ominis. The three of them would endure, no matter what befell them.
And if they were wrong?
What a joke, they would suffer no alternative.
Warnings: Sebastian x MC x Ominis! Drug Addiction! Spoilers! Slow-burn corruption! Dark content! Fucked up 1800s orphanages! MC has no love for Anne or Solomon! Dubious happy ending (it's happy for MC, Seb and Ominis at least).
You can also read on AO3! (chapter specific warnings below)
Notes:
Warnings: Cliffhanger, sort of.
Oh lord, over 11k words now. I really wanted to split this chapter up, but it would damage the effect I was going for, so, yeah x'D
I also wanted to do art for this chapter but I was so damn tired this month, so I'll probably add art later. Next chapter might be shorter if I can cut it earlier because 2 weeks really isn't enough time for a 10k+ chapter, lol I wanna try to go back to 8k-ish if possible.
Inb4 next chapter comes in at 15k.
Edit: I drew the art! Yaaaay, I finally drew the art for this chapter- So congrats to you tumblr readers, you get the art at the same time as the chapter lol
“Expecto Patronum!” Ominis flicked his wand and then paused. “Anything?”
“Just light mist.” Sebastian shook his head, and the blond boy sighed.
“Expecto Patronum!” The Keeper cast as well, before sighing when they conjured nothing but glowing mist. “If it's any consolation, I'm not having much success either.”
“Seriously, Sebastian. How did you do it?” Ominis folded his arms with an irritated expression.
“I told you, I just think about how lovely both of you look when you're happy.” Sebastian answered with a shrug, while his small glowing otter swam through the air around him.
“Well that's not very helpful for me, now is it.” Ominis grumbled.
The Keeper shook their head with a huff. “All that does is make me horny.”
There was a moment of silence, before Garreth gave them a disgusted look. “For Merlin's sake, can you three go ten minutes without flaunting your relationship in front of us single bastards?”
“Speak for yourself, I think it's quite sweet.” Natty waved off his complaints.
“Aha! So, you aren't single?” Garreth asked with a grin.
“I never said that.” Natty gave Poppy a nervous glance and seemed relieved that the Hufflepuff wasn't paying attention, before shooting him an annoyed glare as she flicked her wand. “Expecto Patronum!”
The funnel of mist that poured from her wand was probably the most corporeal besides Sebastian's, with the almost discernible form of a dog.
“Oh, almost got it!” Poppy clapped for Natty, who had on somewhere between a proud grin and a frustrated grimace.
“Still need more practice, Professor Sharp says that being able to cast a corporeal Patronus counts for a lot when being considered for admission to the Aurors.” Natty sighed, shooting Sebastian a mildly jealous look, which he returned with a cocky smirk.
“Don't worry, Natty, I'm sure you'll succeed. Christmas holidays start next week and there's still half a year before graduation.” The Keeper patted her on the shoulder, when a single freezing drop of water hit them on the arm.
Looking up, the Keeper eyed the dark clouds that had gathered overhead while the group had been practising spells in the courtyard after classes ended for the day. It wasn't cold enough to snow yet, but it was getting cold enough to hurt.
They were about to suggest that everyone head indoors, when the unmistakable sound of thunder rumbled across the moors, followed by a flash of light in the heavens.
Poppy gasped. “Is that!?”
“Lightning!” Sebastian and Garreth exclaimed at the same time, before glaring at each other.
“Come on!” Natty lifted her wand to create a barrier against the falling rain as she began to run towards the forest.
Exchanging excited grins, the rest took off after her, while Amit scrambled to shove his book into his bag. “Wait for me!”
The rain fell heavier and heavier with every moment, until it was pelting against the group's magical umbrellas as they filed into the forest. Each quickly dug up a box containing their crystal phial, before rushing back to the castle. The rain now a deluge that made it difficult to see or hear each other through the darkness, thunder shaking the earth with every rumble.
The group stood in the castle entryway for a few moments, catching their breath and lowering the hood of their school robes.
“The classroom we use on Saturdays should be empty by now, right?” Amit asked.
“Yes, hopefully. We don't know how long the storm will last, so the sooner we start, the better.” Natty nodded. “Let's go.”
The group made to follow her, when Poppy looked about, realising that there were only six of them present. “Hang on, where's-”
The doors opened again for the Keeper to slip in through them and lower their hood.
“Oh, there you are!” Poppy gave a relieved sigh.
“Sorry, tripped on a root.” The Keeper explained as they rejoined the group.
“Great, everyone's here, now can we get a move on already?” Garreth complained, getting several glares in response. “What? We're on the clock, I'm just saying it like it is.”
Natty rolled her eyes but didn't disagree. “Alright, let's go.”
Fortunately, the lightning storm continued to rage outside and didn't seem like it would let up any time soon. The group of teens were soon sitting in the middle of an empty classroom, removing their crystal phials from their dirt crusted boxes and unstopping them.
“Of course it would be red.” Garreth sighed, holding up the phial. “All I can think of is that this used to be a baby moth.”
“Thanks for reminding us.” Amit side eyed him.
“Alright, everyone, you'll need to do the daily chant one more time.” Natty instructed and the rest of the group, sans the Keeper, drew their wands to point at their hearts.
“Amato Animo Animato Animagus.” The five chanted and their wands glowed with a soft gold light that also shimmered around the crystal phials a moment later.
“Well done!” Natty clapped. “That glow means everyone has been doing the chant correctly. Now you just need to drink the potion. You'll have a vision of your animal form and then the double heartbeat will become painful, but don't panic. If you do, you might lose yourself to the animal.”
Nodding with varying degrees of nervousness, the five drank their potions, Garreth holding his nose as he did.
“Well, that wasn't so bad.” Ominis smiled as he passed Sebastian his empty phial and the brunet set both down on a nearby table.
“Speak for yourself.” Garreth grumbled as he set aside his phial as well.
“Oh!” Poppy suddenly exclaimed, while Sebastian pressed a hand to his forehead and Garreth shook his head.
A moment later, each of the five doubled over with a groan of pain while the golden glow shone from their skin.
“Alright everyone, take a deep breath. Don't fight whatever your body wants to do, listen to the second heartbeat and focus on the animal form you see.” Natty instructed and the Keeper could see everyone struggling to follow those instructions.
The Keeper desperately wanted to comfort Ominis and Sebastian, but didn't want to distract them either. So, they were forced to watch as the two boys collapsed to the floor with expressions of pain, sweat beading on their brows, and fists tight around their robes.
Several minutes passed this way, until Poppy cried out, her body contorting as a swirl of light shone around her and then, in her place was a brown coated deer with pale spots speckled across her back.
Natty immediately ran to her side, brushing her hand over Poppy's pelt and whispering comforting words to the deer.
A moment later, Sebastian grunted and the same happened, his form changing in a swirl of light, into a large dog with long brown fur and patches of white across his snout and belly. The Keeper finally allowed themselves to go to his side as well, and soft whimpers of pain came from the dog as they cradled him close.
The next to be enveloped in light, was Amit, who seemingly disappeared. Until the Keeper realised that there was a palm sized tortoise shell where he'd lain, its spiky black shell patterned with geometric star-like lines of orange. A few seconds passed, before a tiny orange snout poked out from under the shell.
The Keeper was relieved when Ominis finally finished his transformation too, becoming a rather large and beautiful white feline that was just slightly smaller than Sebastian, and had tufts of fur extending from the tip of his ears.
Dragging himself to his feet, Sebastian plodded over unsteadily to lie down beside Ominis, dwarfing the cat with his form. The Keeper too followed to his side, and with one hand, stroked the large cat's soft cream fur as he panted for breath, while with the other, ran their fingers through Sebastian's thick warm fur to soothe him as well.
Finally, the last to transform was Garreth, and he made a rather amusing squeak, before turning into a raccoon with reddish fur, lying on his back, puffy tail twitching as his chest heaved.
“Webale Katonda...” Natty murmured, smiling with relief. “It looks like everyone managed without complications.”
“Thanks to your guidance.” The Keeper nodded to her in gratitude, chuckling when they felt Ominis purring quietly against their palm. Finding the way Sebastian shoved his snout under Ominis’ chin to be quite adorable, though the big cat seemed to find it annoying and batted at Sebastian with a paw.
“When you feel able, I'd like everyone to try turning back into human form, just to make sure that everything went right.” Natty stroked Poppy's neck soothingly as she spoke.
With a huff, Sebastian pried himself from Ominis’ side to sit up and closed his warm brown eyes in focus. Amit's snout disappeared under his shell once more and Ominis opened his eyes, which seemed to still be unseeing milky pink orbs. A pity, the Keeper had hoped that Ominis might be able to see in his animal form.
A few minutes later, the five kids were kids once more and Garreth groaned, running a hand through his ginger mane. “Bloody hell, everything hurts, even my hair...”
“Quit whining.” Sebastian grumbled, holding his head between his hands while Ominis leaned tiredly against the Keeper.
“I think I need to lie down.” Ominis murmured.
“Best idea I've heard all day.” Amit gave a tired laugh.
“Help me back to the common room?” Ominis asked the Keeper.
“Of course.” They nodded and stood slowly, helping Ominis to his feet, before offering Sebastian a hand as well.
“What's the rush?” Garreth asked, raising an eyebrow at the three from the floor.
“Unlike you, I'd rather pass out in a bed.” Ominis rolled his eyes. “Bit more comfortable at the moment.”
Poppy gave a breathless laugh against Natty's side, and the Gryffindor nodded. “Yes, we should probably get some rest this weekend, we can have our Saturday meetings after school resumes.”
With a nod, the Keeper left with both boys leaning against them, supporting them out into the corridor, which was empty since most of the school was likely at dinner.
“Shall we use the Undercroft to do yours?” Ominis asked quietly, startling the Keeper and he gave them a wry smile. “I know you went to get your phial too.”
“I can help you to the common room first.” The Keeper shook their head, if he was aching enough to want a proper bed, that took priority.
Ominis rolled his eyes. “I only said that so we could leave quickly. If you think we're letting you attempt the transformation unsupervised, you're barmy.”
“Can't wait to see what you end up as.” Sebastian gave a tired chuckle.
“You guys...” The Keeper felt their heart warm with affection, really hoping that they would be something that could cuddle with their partners. “Alright.”
The trip to the Undercroft took a while but the reassuring sound of thunder followed them all the way to the secret entrance. Slipping inside, the Keeper left the boys sitting together on the bench while they set down their satchel, and sat on the floor with their crystal phial.
“Amato Animo Animato Animagus.” The Keeper chanted, with their wand placed to their heart, waiting for the phial to glow before taking a deep breath and bringing it to their lips.
The potion's taste was... weird. Not much of a taste actually, it just felt warm, maybe a tad salty. Like piss- which was a nauseating thought to have while drinking it, and the Keeper was happy to set the empty phial aside.
The strength of the second heartbeat caught them off guard and their vision hazed over for a second before clearing to the sight of... snow?
A white snowy sea, speckled with the occasional tree, as far as the eye could see.
The Keeper was puzzled, weren't they supposed to see their Animagus form? A slightest hint of movement caught their attention and there, in what they'd thought was a mound of snow in the shadow of a tree, a pair of golden eyes peered out at them.
The mound rose up on four legs and they realised that the shadows were grey fur, it growled low and threatening. Then the ferocious beast was charging at them, and before the Keeper could react, it dove into their chest, vanishing as though absorbed into their body.
Then the pain began.
It felt like hair-thin needles were being driven into their skin, four loud pulses throbbing between their ears, heat burning through their chest and searing through their body.
Golden light burned behind their eyelids, and they felt restrained, like they were wrapped in a thick blanket, tight around them, constraining every movement such that even breath could not be drawn.
Free.
They needed to be free. A scream built in their throat, and they fought their restraints but as they tore through their bindings and their mouth opened, a howl emerged instead.
Slumping forward, the Keeper collapsed to the floor, chest heaving for breath. They felt something touch their head and tensed, surprised when a growl rumbled in their chest.
“It's okay, you're safe...”
Sebastian. The Keeper tried to speak, but instead a soft whine emerged from their... snout. Right. Animagus form. Fucking hell, Garreth was right, everything hurt.
“A wolf, somehow I'm not particularly surprised.” Sebastian chuckled.
A wolf, a dog and a cat. The Keeper huffed in amusement, enjoying Sebastian's gentle caresses. Well, at least they'd gotten their wish to be an animal that would easily cuddle with their boyfriends.
A flash of light came from beside them and then there was a pretty white cat rubbing up against the Keeper's side. Huh, they'd thought Ominis rather large for a cat, he seemed smaller now.
A moment later, Sebastian joined him in dog form, and the Keeper was amused to realise that this was simply because they were quite a bit larger than both Ominis and Sebastian. Stretching out so that the two boys could lie against their belly, the Keeper gave a tired sigh and lowered their snout to the floor to rest.
Rumbling purrs came from Ominis’ chest as he started licking the fur on the Keeper's head, while Sebastian draped a front leg over Ominis’ back, nuzzled his muzzle against the cat's pale neck and promptly began snoring.
It was a curious feeling, being an animal, the light of the candelabras was somehow brighter, Ominis’ purrs and Sebastian's snores felt louder, the sound of rainfall audible even from the underground chamber. The smell of melting wax and burning wick, mingled with wood and oil, lit up like paths in their vision.
Most wonderful however, were the scents of Ominis and Sebastian. Somehow, the Keeper knew them. Knew what they meant.
Mates.
Family.
Pack.
Despite the ache still throbbing through the Keeper's body, the comfortable warmth that they felt with their partners by their side was pleasant enough that they considered it rather worth all the effort.
Closing their eyes, the Keeper allowed the rhythm of Ominis’ grooming to soothe the pain, and their tired consciousness soon faded into darkness.
“-which made it difficult to pinpoint since caracals have those tufts of fur on their ears that make them look like lynx. And while there weren't any records of albino caracals, all records of albino lynx were spotted, so I'm fairly certain of my conclusion.” Sebastian finished with a confident nod.
“So, Poppy's a Fallow Deer, Amit is an Indian Star Tortoise, Garreth is a common Raccoon.” The Keeper recited. “You're a Border Collie, I'm an Eurasian Wolf and Ominis is an albino Caracal.”
“Yup.” Sebastian beamed, clearly pleased that they'd listened attentively throughout his lecture. “Amit's is actually pretty rare, endangered species apparently. Albino caracals are basically unheard of too.”
“Of course, our Ominis is one of a kind.” The Keeper smirked proudly. “Though he probably shouldn't go about in Animagus form too often, since he stands out.”
“Bit of a bummer, that. He's only ever wanted to be like everyone else.” Sebastian murmured. “For some unfathomable reason.”
“Not so unfathomable I'd say, since the loveliest rose in the bush gets picked first. I mean, the biggest danger to him, particularly in Animagus form, would be poachers who would sell his pretty arse for a pretty penny.” The Keeper pointed out.
“Fair enough.” Sebastian conceded, before he snickered. “Something Garreth doesn't have to worry about, seeing as he's just a common raccoon.”
The Keeper rolled their eyes, they still didn't know where the odd rivalry between the two boys came from, but at least it was entertaining. “I think it's interesting how compatible Poppy and Natty's forms are.”
Sebastian hummed thoughtfully. “On the surface maybe, but fallow deer and gazelle come from very different environments, and one's got antlers while the other has horns.”
“I mean that they can prance together through the woods.” The Keeper chuckled fondly.
“I suppose they could, but gazelles are actually quite a bit faster than deer. So, Natty might have to wait for Poppy.” Sebastian shrugged.
“Knowing her, I doubt she'll mind.” The Keeper gave him a wry smile, before jabbing a thumb at the large double door that they'd been leaning against this whole time, patiently waiting for Sebastian to finish his verbal vomit. “It's ready, want to give it a try?”
“Sure.” Sebastian grinned and they moved aside.
He reached out to grasp the door's handle and it glowed for a moment, before there was an audible click, and he easily pushed the door open, before rubbing at his thumb absently.
“Excellent, it works despite the features I added.” The Keeper grinned, rather pleased that they'd managed to create a door for their bedroom that would only unlock in response to their Ancient Magic or Ominis’ parseltongue or Sebastian's blood. “I'm still impressed you managed to figure out how the blood verification ritual works with half the page covered in smudged ink.”
“Why thank you! It certainly wasn't easy.” Sebastian beamed proudly. “Though I do wonder why a locking charm this useful isn't more commonly used.”
“Probably the same reason people don't use dark magic, blood is creepy or something equally absurd.” The Keeper rolled their eyes.
“Yeah, probably. Now all I need to be concerned with is making sure no-one draws my blood and uses it for a key.” Sebastian gave a cocky grin. “Easy.”
“Even if that happens, I added a stipulation to the door so it rejects cold or stale blood.” The Keeper shrugged. “Blood degrades after it's been removed from the body, and the only way to preserve it would be to keep it cold, so that should be enough to counteract that.”
“You're supposed to agree that my duelling skill is unparalleled.” Sebastian raised an eyebrow at them.
“Well, can't really say that when I've put you on your arse.” The Keeper chuckled, giving him a teasing smile.
“Yeah, but I've spanked yours. So, where does that leave us?” Sebastian grinned.
“Doesn't count, because I liked it.” The Keeper' smile became amused.
Despite his ears going adorably red, Sebastian gave them a smirk, stepping closer and running his thumb over their bottom lip, murmuring softly. “Did you now?”
Flicking their tongue out, the Keeper caught the edge of his thumb with it and took a moment to revel in the heat that sparked in his eyes, before raising their wand and casting a tempus.
“Alright, now that we've confirmed that the door works, we can set up the hidden door to the basement with the same security design when we get back.” The Keeper patted him on the cheek. “We should get going, or we'll be late to meet Borgok.”
With that, they slipped out from between him and the wall to make for the stairs, and Sebastian let his forehead fall forward to rest against the stone with a sigh.
“Come on, Sebastian.” The Keeper called.
“Coming...” He replied with another sigh, grumbling under his breath. “Sure wish I actually were.”
Laughing internally at Sebastian, as he followed the Keeper down the stairs, they poked their head into the kitchen, where Ominis was lying, curled up and cuddled with the little dragon on its bed in his Animagus form.
Smiling at the adorable sight, the Keeper called out. “Ominis, we're heading out.”
The white caracal's ears twitched, and Ominis waved his tail at them in acknowledgement, so the Keeper chuckled and withdrew to join Sebastian in the entryway.
The two brought out their brooms and were soon off to Knockturn Alley.
The pub was lively as always, and since Borgok hadn't arrived yet, the Keeper brought Sebastian with them to the bar counter.
“Evening, Alasdair.” The Keeper greeted as they seated themselves, Sebastian following suit.
“Salamander.” The bartender smiled at them from behind his glasses. “What can I get you this fine evening?”
“Two of my usual and the house special.” The Keeper answered and when his eyes flickered towards Sebastian, they added. “This is Sebastian, he's assisting me with my work.”
“Is that so...” Alasdair eyed the brunet critically. “You sure about that, kid?”
“What's that supposed to mean?” Sebastian raised an eyebrow at the man, and he gave a deep chuckle as he mixed their drinks.
“You've got bollocks lad, but I know a daredevil when I see one.” The bartender flashed him a knowing smile. “You like the heat of danger, but this line of work ain't a game. You would be ill suited to Mercenary work.”
“It's fine.” The Keeper waved off his concerns before Sebastian could retort. “He's not here to join, he's simply accompanying me to ensure that I do not perish in battle.”
The Keeper found Alasdair’s response rather interesting, seeing as they had been accepted by him on sight. Though they supposed that it should have been plain that it was their reputation and the guildmaster's intuition that made their admission so smooth.
“If you say so.” Alasdair shrugged. “Owl asked me to inform you that he cannot make it tonight, but he's made some headway and identified several potential leads.”
“Alright, thanks.” The Keeper nodded as the bartender set two glasses of chocolate coffee ice before them.
They had to admit that they missed the convenience of Owl's pocket mirror, which they'd returned last week, since they no longer needed to coordinate so precisely. They really wanted to get a set for communication with Sebastian and Ominis, such artefacts were incredibly useful, but also apparently quite rare.
At this moment, the doors opened to admit Borgok and he lumbered over to the bar. “Evening Salamander, Sebastian.”
“Borgok.” The Keeper nodded as the goblin took a seat as well. “I assume you have my items?”
The goblin nodded, offering them the expanded pouch they'd given him before. “As agreed.”
When the Keeper took the pouch from him, a blue flame appeared over their hand. Despite this, they took a peek to verify that the pouch did indeed contain their promised artefacts, while Borgok greeted Alasdair and ordered a drink, before placing it in their satchel.
“How much coin would you like for them?” The Keeper asked and to their surprise, Borgok glanced at Alasdair, before shaking his head.
“In light of the unexpected difficulty and the surplus of silver you provided, I will consider this round of wares paid for.” The goblin smiled, accepting his drink from the bartender and raised his mug. “To our continued camaraderie.”
“To our mutual cause.” The Keeper raised their glass in answer as well, before taking out their contract with Borgok, handing it to Alasdair to be discharged with a stamp.
“Sebastian, I would like to discuss your apprenticeship further, if you are willing.” Borgok asked once the contracts were settled.
The still pouting brunet glanced at the Keeper, and they nodded. “I have things to discuss with Alasdair anyway.”
“Alright.” Taking his glass with a sigh, Sebastian followed the goblin to one of the tables, a distance away, to speak.
“Ah yes, I have something for you.” Alasdair smiled and retrieved a wooden box from behind the counter, presenting it to the Keeper. “As you have completed your first bounty, you are now an official member of the Phantoms. Congratulations.”
Having an inkling of its contents, the Keeper opened the wooden box and found a silver venetian half mask within it. It was simple and elegant, with a pattern of a salamander along one side and the flame emblem of the Phantoms along the other, while intricate swirls were etched into the edges of the silver.
“Figured you wouldn't want anything too fanciful.” Alasdair chuckled. “If you should wish to conceal your identity and wear only your status as a Phantom Mercenary, you need only don this mask.”
Giving him a grateful nod, the Keeper closed the box and placed it in their satchel with a simple. “Thank you.”
“No thanks needed, you are an investment, after all.” The bartender flashed them a small smirk. “Which reminds me, Vesper should be stopping by soon.”
“Excellent, I'll give him his payment then. Speaking of which, are there any new jobs I can take?” They asked after a moment. “The Christmas holidays have started, so my schedule is more flexible.”
“Certainly.” The bartender nodded. “Any preferences?”
The Keeper hummed thoughtfully, they could use more test subjects, now that they had the collars and cauldron to experiment with. Not to mention, they wanted to reassure Sebastian that they could handle Mercenary work on their own, that Gnarlak’s difficulty was really an exception, so a relatively easy job would be good.
“Any jobs with a human target but no obligation to bag a kill?” The Keeper asked, taking a sip of their drink.
“That's specific.” Alasdair cocked an eyebrow at them, but seemed to consider the request for a few moments, before bending down to rifle through something behind the counter.
“This might match what you're looking for.” The bartender extracted a contract to hand to the Keeper. “The target's wife put out a request to retrieve their coin from him. Apparently, he absconded with the family wealth and left her with debt and two children to raise.”
Accepting it, they examined the contract which outlined a request to steal all of worth from a man named Frederick Taylor, with a promised reward of twenty percent of the stolen valuables. It included a family photograph of the man, what was likely his wife and two children... and a familiar looking house elf.
Recognising the elf, the Keeper's eyes widened, and rage coiled within them. Tobbs. The friend of Deek, whom they'd found deceased in the spider infested caves, trapped within those tunnels with barely any supplies, forced to collect fucking leeches for his abusive master.
“I'll take it.” It took all their willpower to speak evenly as they returned the contract to the bartender.
“Alright, if you're free tomorrow, I can ask the contractor to drop by for the signing.” Alasdair nodded.
“Sure, keep me posted.” The Keeper nodded, taking a drink from their neglected glass to cool their anger. At least they didn't need to wait, without classes on Monday, they could afford to be out late into the night.
They'd sworn, a little over two years ago, in that dank cave, standing over the small body, that they would make Tobbs’ owner pay for his cruelty if they ever got the opportunity. Well, it seemed like said opportunity had arrived, and what a perfect candidate for a new test subject.
“If that is all, we'll speak again tomorrow.” The Keeper nodded to Alasdair and the bartender waved them off as they made their way over to the table where Sebastian was speaking with Borgok.
“That was fast.” Sebastian commented as they took a seat beside him.
“Mhm, got a new job too, I'll fill you in later.” The Keeper patted him on the shoulder. “How's your chat going?”
“We've agreed to lessons on Sunday afternoons, starting next week.” Sebastian explained simply and the Keeper nodded, about the same time as their lessons with Rackham then. An excellent time to select, on his part.
“Oh.” The Keeper spotted Vesper entering the pub. “I'll be right back.”
Slipping out of their seat once more, the Keeper left their drink in Sebastian's care and approached the man as he seated himself at the bar.
“Vesper.” The Keeper greeted, drawing the wand they'd retrieved from Gnarlak. “Is this yours?”
Vesper's eyes went wide, before a wry grin stretched across his scraggy beard as he reached a hand out for it. “Well, I'll be damned. You actually completed that bounty?”
Nodding, the Keeper handed him the wand. “Thanks to your warning about a large creature, I was better prepared.”
“What'd it end up being?” The man asked curiously as he gazed lovingly down at his wand.
“A dragon.” They answered dryly.
“A dragon, eh.” He chuckled. “That's a pretty big fish. Surprised you got out alive, how'd you get Gnarlak with a dragon to dodge?”
“By killing it first.” The Keeper shrugged.
The old hunter gave an incredulous snort, shaking his head. “Sure you did.”
In response, the Keeper wordlessly removed, from their satchel, the dragon scale they'd ripped out, and flashed it at the man.
His jaw went slack at the large ventral scale that could only have come from a dragon's belly, for it was perfectly intact and still bore the roots that would have been embedded in the dragon's flesh. There were no further words or proof needed, since dislodging the scale through impact would have caused some damage to it or its roots, and a naturally shed scale would be old and dry.
Thus, the only possible way to obtain a dragon's magically resistant scales in such pristine condition, would be to rip it out, and the only way most people might imagine getting close enough to pry it free with tools would require it be dead. Not to mention, its vibrant and rich magical energy marked it impossibly fresh.
“Well, I'll be damned, indeed.” Vesper laughed and guffawed. “A kid like you took down a dragon and that crafty goblin? Merlin, I wouldn’t have thought such a thing possible.”
“A force to be reckoned with indeed.” Alasdair chuckled and the Keeper belatedly remembered that the bartender was also within earshot, though they supposed it was of little consequence.
“Well, I now know who to ask if I need something done. It was a pleasure doing business with you.” Vesper holstered his wand and offered his prosthetic hand for a shake, which they took after a moment, and he tipped his hat at them. “Good luck, kid.”
“Enjoy your retirement.” The Keeper replied politely, accepting the conclusion of their conversation and made to return to Sebastian's side.
As they did, they saw Borgok standing and they exchanged parting nods, before sitting down beside Sebastian, and he related to them the details of his arrangements with the goblin. That he would work with Borgok at Gringotts for a few hours every weekend and that the goblin would see to it that Sebastian got the opportunity to meet the head of the Curse Breakers’ division, and that Borgok would vouch for him.
Their businesses settled, the two finished their drinks and left for home, the Keeper's heart filled with anticipation and an eagerness to test their new toys. There was much work to begin tomorrow and though they would need their energy for those tasks, they had a feeling that sleep would not come easy.
“Ominis, there's a letter for... you.” The Keeper called as they strolled into the master bedroom at Dìon the next day, after their usual Sunday afternoon lesson with Rackham.
Amused to see their partners lounging on the large king-sized bed, Sebastian reading a tome, lying on his front, while Ominis dozed, curled up with his head nestled comfortably in the small of the brunet's back. Cute.
Lifting his head, Ominis yawned before asking. “Who from?”
“I'm not sure.” The Keeper hummed. “But this has to be the most posh envelope I've seen in my life.”
The emerald green paper was thick with embossed letters and silver decorative swirls along the boarders of the silky smooth surface, and was that fucking perfume they were smelling!? Bloody hell, this one letter felt like it was worth a galleon on its own.
“Give it here then.” Ominis sat up and raised his hand as the Keeper climbed onto the bed, before placing it in his hand obediently.
The moment it touched his fingers however, Ominis stiffened, and the letter almost tumbled to the floor.
The Keeper frowned. “Ominis?”
Hearing the concern in their voice, Sebastian lifted his head as well, turning around and sitting up. The moment he saw the letter, he went. “Oh.”
Giving Sebastian a puzzled glance, the Keeper watched warily as Ominis took a deep breath and opened the envelope, withdrawing the letter with a discomforted expression. Raising his wand to charm the paper, he ran his fingers across the parchment and his lips pursed with disappointment.
“What's it say?” Sebastian asked and Ominis wordlessly held up the parchment for him to take.
Looking at the paper over Sebastian's shoulder, the Keeper's narrowed, an invitation to a yule gala in two days’ time from-
“Huh, it's been ages since your parents last tried to get you to attend.” Sebastian commented and Ominis flinched.
“Indeed, one would think they'd given up by now.” The blond's voice was strained with forced indifference and the Keeper smacked Sebastian on the head.
“I take it that you're turning the invitation down?” The Keeper asked hesitantly, wary of causing more hurt.
“I'll do what I've done for the last five years. Nothing.” Ominis huffed, folding his arms and murmuring quietly. “They can't even bother to invite me in person, why should I entertain such paltry and empty gestures?”
“As you should. You owe those awful people nothing and you never liked those parties anyway.” Sebastian agreed and Ominis wore a conflicted smile in response.
“If you like, we can hold our own Yule gala right here.” The Keeper suggested, giving Ominis a kiss on the cheek, whispering softly into his ear and making him shiver. “My prince.”
“I say, that's a fantastic idea.” Sebastian grinned and bounced off the bed, taking Ominis’ hand and pulling him to his feet, a bemused smile forming on the blond's face.
“Do you even know how to dance, Sebastian?” Ominis asked in a dubious tone.
“Nope, not a clue!” Sebastian announced confidently. “But I've seen dancing before, shouldn't be too hard to copy.”
Hearing this, the Keeper scrambled to get off the bed quickly as well, just as Sebastian began to... dance, to soundless music, pulling a mildly alarmed Ominis along with him as he swayed haphazardly across the bedroom floor.
“And I believe here's where we do a spinny thing.” Sebastian attempted to do a spin and dip, which failed spectacularly, and the Keeper quickly caught Ominis as he lost his balance.
“Oh, you absolute buffoon.” Ominis complained as he straightened with the Keeper's help and adjusted his rumpled pyjamas primly, drawing his wand and marching over to Sebastian's side. “This is how you dance.”
Manhandling Sebastian into the proper position and setting his boyfriend's hand on his shoulder, Ominis placed the hand gripping his glowing wand on Sebastian's hip and with the other, took Sebastian's hand in his. The whole process of which seemed to startle Sebastian somewhat, and he blinked as Ominis began leading him in the most recognisable part of a waltz.
“The box step is the easiest, we just slide one foot to the side and then bring your other foot to match it in a three-beat rhythm.” Ominis explained as he tugged Sebastian to the side. “And you want to keep your feet on the floor as we go, so you don’t step on my toes.”
“One two three, one two three...” Ominis slid his foot forward as he counted, nudging Sebastian's backwards and the brunet followed his lead.
The Keeper watched in amusement, as the two boys danced in a square circle in the middle of the bedroom for several minutes, till Sebastian seemed to get the hang of it, and a rather dopey grin appeared on his face as he danced with Ominis. At least until he made the mistake of looking up, catching the Keeper's wide amused smirk, and Sebastian promptly lost his rhythm, his cheeks going red.
Covering it up with a cough, Sebastian released Ominis’ hand and declared. “I think I've got it now, your turn!”
With that, he dragged the Keeper over and shoved them at Ominis, who took the change in partners in stride, and the Keeper happily allowed him to manoeuvre them into the same position. Having seen Ominis lead Sebastian, the Keeper had an idea of what to expect and it wasn't too long before they were following him smoothly.
When the Keeper tossed Sebastian a small cocky grin, he huffed. “Not fair, you had an advantage.”
“Fair enough. Then, in that case.” The Keeper conceded and tapped Ominis on the shoulder to signal a stop. They then guided him back to the bed, where he reclined, while the Keeper went over to Sebastian and gave him a low bow. “May I have this dance?”
Sebastian stared at them in faint disbelief and with a smirk, the Keeper took his hand and pulled him close. Discerning the Keeper's intentions, Ominis smiled and began tapping a beat on his thigh as they led Sebastian to the rhythm.
“Show off.” Sebastian grumbled, his face still slightly pink.
“Pot, kettle, darling.” The Keeper chuckled fondly.
As they swayed slowly, the first dusting of fine snow began to fall on the other side of the glass balcony doors. The cold winter air went unnoticed by the happy throuple, dancing in the warm home they'd made for themselves, as the afternoon turned to evening, and the time came for the Keeper to meet their new contractor at the pub.
The lady from the photograph was visibly nervous from the moment she entered the pub, jumping at every raised voice, as she approached the bar to speak with Alasdair. The Keeper was mildly amused by how conspicuous she seemed in this environment, they wouldn't even need to know her face to identify her as a contracting guest.
Her expression was, as expected, quite surprised when Alasdair directed her towards the Keeper's table, where they sat with their usual chocolate drink, and in a few moments, she was hesitantly approaching them.
“Are you the Salamander?” The lady asked and the Keeper nodded.
“I am, and you're here to discuss the contract, yes? Please, take a seat.” The Keeper gave her a small smile, hoping to put her at ease and it seemed to work. “Tell me a little more about the job you'd like me to do.”
With a grateful nod, the lady sat across from them and gave them a strained smile. “Well, my husband, Frederick Taylor and I used to run a potions shop together. He'd brew and I'd sell the potions. He was never the most even-tempered man, but it got worse when our business started failing.”
“What happened?” The Keeper asked, though they could guess the answer, they wanted confirmation.
“The elf he inherited from his parents went missing and we couldn't afford to buy a new one to harvest supplies for our potions.” She shook her head. “We tried for two years but couldn't keep the shop open and I wanted to sell the family heirlooms to pay off our debts, so we could start afresh, he was furious at the suggestion and then he disappeared with them and what coin we had left.”
Her lips pressed together into a thin line. “Then while searching for any remaining coin, I found letters between him and a mistress, going back five years. Last I heard, my friend saw him in Edinburgh with her, a younger woman.”
The last words were understandably bitter, and the Keeper mentally noted down the town, nodding as they spoke. “You said in the contract that payment would be a portion of what I steal from him.”
The lady nodded anxiously. “Yes, I know that you could always keep it all instead of splitting the proceeds, but I can assist you with stealing it, whatever you need and-”
“Madam.” The Keeper interrupted with a smirk. “Before that, I'd like to ask if you would mind him... disappearing for good, after I've retrieved your coin.”
“Disa- oh.” Her eyes widened. “What do you-”
“That's my business. Though I can tell you that he will be in a lot of suffering until the moment he dies. Would you consider that fair, in light of the injustices he's committed against you and your children?” The Keeper asked evenly.
It was tedious, but they had promised Ominis that they wouldn’t harm the innocent, and he'd made it clear that he considered their own metric, for determining innocence versus guilt, to be... not up to his standard. So, who better to judge if the punishment fit the crime than the woman who had been the target's victim and wife?
The one who knew all his flaws and sins, and had been hurt by them.
There was a long moment of silence, a thoughtful frown on her face as she deliberated, before she met their eyes with a resolute gaze. “Do whatever you want with him.”
Well, that was that, the Keeper nodded, before asking after a moment's thought. “How was his relationship with your children?”
“Distant, for the most part, but he never raised a hand against our sons at least.” Her tone made it plain that he'd held no such honour with her.
“Do you think he would go to their aid if he saw one of them in what appears to be danger?” They asked and her expression was wary as she answered.
“Yes, I think he would...” She trailed off hesitantly.
“Then if you don't mind, I'd like several strands of hair from one of your children.” The Keeper requested and the lady's eyes widened with understanding.
“Oh! Yes, I can do that!” She nodded with a relieved smile. “Do you want me to take the polyj-”
“It's quite alright, I have an assistant who can handle that role.” The Keeper waved her off casually, they didn't need a civilian to worry about in the middle of a mission. “The man himself and my share of the proceeds from selling the heirlooms will be acceptable as payment.”
“So, you'll take the job? Thank you!” The lady clasped her hands together with a smile.
“No thanks needed, I have my own interests that I'm serving.” The Keeper shook their head and strangely enough, her blue eyes became sad, and they had a feeling that there was more she wanted to say but was uncertain if it would be welcome, so they asked. “What is it?”
“I just- my oldest looks around your age.” She murmured tentatively.
Okay, weird thing to comment, the Keeper raised an eyebrow at her and shrugged. “Pick the younger kid then. People naturally panic more, the younger a child is when in danger.”
Her expression looked somewhere between alarmed and shocked, for reasons they couldn't be arsed to discern, and they instead asked. “If that is all, shall we sign then?”
“I- I suppose-” She stammered.
With that, the Keeper stood with their drink and, leaving the oddly stunned lady to scramble after them, the Keeper made their way to the bar. Somehow, interacting with her was rather tiring, and it would probably be for her benefit if she left the pub sooner than later anyway.
The signing took a tad longer than usual, since Alasdair gave the lady twice the amount of painkiller, making her writing a little slow and wobbly, but it wasn't too long before the Keeper alone at the bar.
“The target is a civilian, if I'm not mistaken?” The bartender asked casually and at their nod, asked. “Any leads?”
The Keeper hesitated a moment, but for now, while they were learning the ropes, it might be good to seek guidance from the guildmaster, so they answered. “Edinburgh.”
A good thing too, because Alasdair hummed thoughtfully. “That so?”
“That's Rogue territory.” Pausing to pull out a paper from behind the counter, the bartender scribbled something on it, before handing them the sheet with an address and directions on it. “Drop by the guild and give the guildmaster a heads-up about your plans, wouldn't want to give them problems.”
“Noted.” The Keeper nodded, tucking away the paper. “Should I wear my mask?”
Alasdair shrugged. “Up to you, but it would make things a tad easier, I should say. Guildmaster Gilfred worked as my second for a while, moved back up north a couple years ago to take over the family business.”
“Anything else I should know?” The Keeper asked before finishing their drink.
“...well...” The bartender trailed off before shaking his head with a wry smile. “You know what, you'll find out.”
They cocked an eyebrow at Alasdair as they slid the empty glass over to him and stood to leave. Well, they supposed they would. It'd be interesting to see how other guilds looked anyway.
Stepping inside their study on the second basement floor, the Keeper opened their satchel and retrieved the pouch that Borgok had given them. The room was still rather sparse, containing only a desk, a single chair and a cabinet that they'd moved their jars of Pain and Fear into.
Both the cabinets’ doors, and that of their study, required Ancient Magic to unlock, as did the doors to the Repository Chamber.
Though, hopefully such measures wouldn't be necessary to begin with, since the door to the basement facility not only had the same security as their bedroom door but was also hidden in the stone wall behind the portrait of Charles Rookwood. So that the magic of the artwork would mask that of the secret door, should someone cast a Revelio charm.
There were still more doors for cells and unused rooms, not to mention, much furnishing to add, but the Keeper was quite happy that they could already live and work comfortably in the castle.
Opening the pouch, the Keeper took its contents out one at a time, to examine and then lay them on the desk, starting with the collars. The craftsmanship of the three collars was quite something, even though they were smaller than the one that they'd retrieved from the dragon's neck, which sat now in their cabinet.
They found, on the inside of the collars, a thin needle. For injecting energies? The needle seemed like it could be retracted too, from its telescopic design. Well, they'd find out how it worked, and the Keeper set the collars aside, looking forward to testing them when they had time.
The highly anticipated armlet was next, and the Keeper eagerly tried it on. The narrow band sat comfortably around their bicep and was surprisingly light, despite how solid it looked and felt. They would probably wear it under their clothing so that it couldn't be seen, and they were pleased to find that its inside was lined with some soft material, so that it didn't shift or chafe.
Excited to test it out, the Keeper removed the armlet, pulled out their jar of C-Pain, and drew the energy from its container with their wand, before lowering it to the band. Fascinated when the lava-like substance melted into the metal, turning the silver to red and black, the rolling magma crawling along the swirls and patterns that were carved into the armlet.
Fastening it to their upper arm once again, the Keeper felt immediately the difference, the band was now warm and they could feel the energy waiting, resting in it. It felt like standing in fog, moisture licking at one's skin, and the Keeper wondered for a moment how they might intake the energy. If it felt like fog, then perhaps...
Closing their eyes, they focused on the cloud of warmth and thought of how it felt to breathe when standing in fog, the feeling of pulling the air, heavy with moisture, into their lungs. As they did so, they felt the energy flow into their body like warm mist, it was so smooth, so fluid, so powerful, so delicious, so easy to take just a little more-
We'll be holding you to your word.
The Keeper's eyes snapped open, and they hurriedly ripped off the armlet, sending it flying across the room and gasping for breath, the memory of Ominis’ voice breaking their trance, his trust and Sebastian's. They shook their head, gripping the side of their desk for stability, chest heaving with the effort it'd taken to resist.
What were they doing? Hadn't they promised that they wouldn't let Pain control them?
Taking a steadying breath, they squeezed their eyes tightly shut, collecting themselves for a few more moments, before opening their eyes and raising their gaze back to the glowing red band of silver, where it lay innocuously on the floor.
Well, it looked like the armlet, while convenient, brought temptation to a whole new level. How could they possibly walk around with that power right there and not partake of it? When it was within reach. When consuming more was as easy as breathing.
They would have to practise, and they couldn't do it alone.
Leaving the armlet where it lay and setting the matter aside for now, the Keeper next removed the blade from the pouch and then from its sheath, eyes wide as they took in the magnificent weapon.
It was incredibly light and almost wavy in its shape, a relatively narrow dirk blade with a tapered tip, and it was breathtakingly beautiful, polished silver so smooth that they could see their own reflection on its surface. Only broken up along the spine, by the intricate etchings that resembled the swirls carved into the armlet.
Taking a jar from the cabinet, the Keeper extracted the Fear-Pill with their wand and then paused. The pill was a solid, unlike Pain energy in whatever form it took, how would this work?
Shaking their head, the Keeper decided to try anyway, it was magic, who the fuck knew how any of this really worked. So, they lowered the black orb onto the dagger's surface and was awed when it melted into the metal, and the silver surface turned entirely pitch black, as though it'd been dipped in paint.
The Keeper wore a sharp grin as they examined the blade, admiring its new appearance with wonder.
It was incredible, the once silver surface now absorbed every speck of light, so black that it almost looked like a flat drawing, devoid of any reflections or any indication of depth. It was tempting to touch the blade's surface, but the risk that their lack of understanding presented was too high.
They still hadn't figured out how the collars and blade injected energies in a harmful way after all. They'd have to thoroughly test the blade, to see its effects and how long the Fear lasted too. The first small Fear-Pill they'd given Selwyn had kept him in his nightmares for three days and even after it wore off, and he returned to his senses, he'd been... different.
Quiet, jumpy, he barely ate and had lost some weight, a haunted look in his glazed eyes. They supposed that the Chinese water torture and Fear-Pill had been enough to break the boy's mind. Macnair was in even worse condition, since he'd lost his emotions, they'd needed to employ the Imperius curse to force him to eat and eliminate, otherwise he'd simply lie on his bed unmoving, wasting away.
On the upside, at least they didn't need to spend much on feeding the two, but at the same time, that made it difficult to conduct experiments when they didn't react properly. Even the amount of P-Pain they'd been extracting from Selwyn had been diminishing over time. He was becoming desensitised to pain, and so he yielded less energy with each torture session.
They were overdue for a fresh face to add to their number, the Keeper grinned as they sheathed and set aside the blade, especially now that they had what they needed to resume their experiments with the energies. Happily extracting the cauldron made of goblin silver, they set it down on the desk.
A quick examination of the cauldron's lid revealed two latches on the side and the Keeper unhooked them, lifting the silver cover to peer into the smooth empty bowl, excellent. Now they could finally find out what Pain and Fear could create.
As they removed the box containing their Phantom’s mask, a knock on the door caught their attention, and the Keeper lifted their head as Ominis’ voice came from the other side. “Love? Are you in here?”
“Yes, come in.” The Keeper replied, setting the box down and flicking a pulse of Ancient Magic at the door. With a click, it opened to permit the two boys on the other side.
“It's been fifteen minutes since tea, darling.” Ominis entered with a wry smile, followed by Sebastian, who was carrying a tray of tea and biscuits, as well as a rolled-up newspaper tucked under his arm.
“Has it?” The Keeper blinked in surprise, they must have been occupied with the armlet for longer than they'd thought. “My apologies, I must have lost track of time.”
“What've you got there?” Sebastian asked curiously as he set the tray down on the table.
“I was just checking out the stuff I got from Borgok.” The Keeper explained, accepting with a smile when Ominis offered them a steaming cup of tea. “Thanks.”
“Oh oh, can I see the dagger?” Sebastian asked excitedly, and the Keeper could practically see a tail wagging behind him.
With an amused smile, they handed him the sheathed blade. “Careful, I've already added Fear to it.”
As Sebastian eagerly examined the blade, Ominis took a seat on the corner of the table and the Keeper's first thought, was that his elegant perch, long slender legs hanging off the side, was a fantastic height for a blowjob. Their second thought was ‘ouch’, as Ominis bopped them on the head with his glowing wand and crossed his legs.
“My face is up here, love.” Ominis sighed. “I swear you're getting as bad as Sebastian.”
“Don't pretend you don't like it.” The Keeper chuckled as they took a sip from their tea, and Ominis lifted his chin with a huff, but didn't deny that he did like feeling desirable.
“This is incredible...” Sebastian murmured.
The Keeper glanced at him, only to exclaim in alarm. “Don't touch it! I already said I've added Fear to it!”
“It's fine, it doesn't seem like contact with the flat of the blade injects it.” Sebastian waved a hand dismissively and, setting down their teacup, they stormed over to snatch it from him.
“Glad to know, but I'd much rather slap Selwyn with the flat side to find out, than to risk you passing out with nightmares!” The Keeper huffed as they sheathed the blade and stuffed it into their satchel before he could do anything else with it.
Sebastian pouted for a few moments, before spotting the box on the table and curiously picked it up. “What's this?”
“Keep your hands to yourself, Sebastian...” Ominis sighed.
“It's just a box.” Sebastian protested.
“I don't care what it is, please put it down.” Ominis snapped.
“Fine.” The brunet grumbled but obediently passed it to the Keeper when they held their hand out for it.
“It's my mask, for work.” They explained, opening and removing the mask from the box. “Apparently it's our uniform and to protect our identities.”
“Have you tried it on yet?” Ominis asked.
“Not yet.” The Keeper shook their head.
“Well, what are you waiting for?” Sebastian grinned.
“I'm not exactly sure how to wear it.” They admitted with a sheepish smile. “There's no string on the back.”
“Might have a sticking charm, try placing it on your face.” Ominis suggested.
Following his suggestion, the Keeper raised it to their face and was surprised when it did indeed remain in place after they let go. “That's pretty handy.”
“Huh.” Sebastian squinted at them. “Remarkable, even though it's only covering half your face, you somehow look unfamiliar. Your jaw looks different, and even your hair is oddly difficult to focus on.”
“Is that so...” The Keeper murmured, that was handy indeed, and it was rather comfortable too.
Ominis expression was mildly disturbed as he added. “That's not all, you sound off too.”
“Really?” The Keeper blinked, that was quite a thorough disguise, and they quickly removed the mask when Ominis shuddered at their voice. “Well, it's nice to know that this will be enough to conceal my identity when working.”
“May I see?” Ominis asked curiously and the Keeper passed him the mask so that he could feel its surface. “Oh, this is quite beautiful. It suits you.”
“You flatter me, darling.” The Keeper chuckled, accepting the mask from him and tucked it away.
“And this would most certainly flatten me.” Sebastian joked, peering into the large cauldron like the Keeper had minutes ago, before fiddling with the latches. “This has to be the largest cauldron I've ever seen!”
He eyed the enormous pot speculatively for a moment.
“Here, hold this for me.” Passing the Keeper his newspaper, Sebastian braced himself to lift the cauldron, before pausing in surprise. “Huh, lighter than I expected.”
“I wanted something big enough to mix a large batch if necessary.” The Keeper explained, raising the newspaper. “What's up with the paper anyway?”
“Oh, right.” Sebastian set down the cauldron and leaned against its rim. “Page three, looks like the Aurors finally made their move.”
The Keeper flipped to the third page, finding the article, titled ‘Auror Raid Finds Dozens Of Dead Goblins’.
The article described the discovery of almost a hundred goblins dead, in what the Keeper recognised as Gnarlak’s base, and though it was annoyingly vague on the details, it did include a short interview with a junior Auror. Who, when asked if this was infighting within the goblin rebellion, called it unlikely, describing the causes of death to be ‘strange’ before his superior hurriedly shooed the journalist away.
“They probably died from the shock of cold turkey when their bodies burnt through their remaining E-Pain.” The Keeper murmured as they finished reading the article.
Lowering the newspaper, they noticed Ominis’ lips pursed and fingers tight around the edge of the table.
Touching their fingers gently to his knuckles, the Keeper smiled softly. “There's no danger of that happening to me, we have ample stock available, and it isn't in danger of running out.”
The unspoken ‘because I can make more’ hung in the air and Ominis sighed with a pained expression, giving them a curt nod. He was clearly still not comfortable with what the Keeper was doing, and they were uncertain if he ever would be. The reminder that he was merely tolerating their activities was both heartening and saddening in equal measure.
It felt nice, powerful, to know that he was willing to look the other way out of love, but they also knew that that came at a cost. A cost to his self-image, and that had already not been great to begin with, being a snake that wanted to be a meek lamb.
They wished desperately that he could just accept himself the way he was, to just commit himself wholeheartedly to a decision, and not beat himself up for what he wanted. He would be so much happier, but that wasn't exactly something anyone could force him to do. Sebastian had been trying since they were eleven and he still hadn't gotten anywhere.
Though, admittedly, the brunet was terrible at it, being completely unable to even see what Ominis despised about himself at all. Perhaps understandable, since Sebastian loved him so innocently and wholeheartedly, warts and all.
“What's that, off in the corner?” Ominis asked, perhaps looking to change the subject, he pointed off to the side.
Towards the armlet.
The Keeper almost wanted to laugh, but it would be quite inappropriate at the moment, so they swallowed it as Sebastian glanced over too. “Oh, is that the armlet? What's it doing on the floor?”
The Keeper sighed. “Because I almost took more than today's maintenance dose.”
Ominis frowned. “You tried it on without us?”
Wincing, the Keeper took his hand and placed it on their face, allowing him to see their expression. “I'm sorry, I thought I'd be able to control myself. It was just supposed to be a quick test to figure out how to use it.”
“Did you toss it because you lost control?” Sebastian asked and the Keeper paused for a moment.
“Well... yes.” They admitted.
“Then you were fighting it, and won. I think that counts for something.” Sebastian pointed out and the Keeper gave him a grateful smile for his support. “And they have been doing pretty well despite having to drop dosage after their dragon fight.”
Ominis frowned at him for a moment, trapped between still being upset at their testing of the armlet unsupervised, and not wanting to denounce the Keeper's efforts, for obvious reasons, and they were mildly amused at the corner that Sebastian had seemingly accidentally backed Ominis into.
“I suppose you're right.” Ominis eventually sighed, turning back towards the Keeper. “I'm glad you managed to stop this time. I just wish you could... completely stop.”
“I know.” The Keeper murmured and smoothed out the frown on his forehead with a thumb, rather happy to have their efforts recognised, it wasn't easy to take a gradually decreasing dose of Pain energy every day. “But if we keep thinking of what we can't change, we can't do anything about what we can change.”
“Does anything even need to change?” Sebastian asked, folding his arms. “I mean, let's not pretend that my dagger was the only thing that brought them home. Without Pain energy, they wouldn't have gotten far enough to even use it.”
The Keeper eyed him curiously, while Ominis narrowed his eyes and declared. “That may be true, but they still shouldn't be over-reliant on that stuff. The sooner they can stop, the better.”
“Why?” Sebastian challenged. “As far as we've seen, aside from withdrawal, there haven't been any negative side effects.”
“That's-” Ominis bristled, his hand leaving the Keeper's face to gesture wildly, exclaiming in disbelief. “We've already heard of Isidora going mad and Ranrok turning into a monster and almost a hundred goblins dying from it! Are you really so reckless as to risk any of those happening to them!?”
Sebastian's eyes narrowed at the implication that he didn't care about danger to the Keeper’s life.
“Yeah, sure! They've been using it for two years without problems. I'd take an unknown percentage chance of either happening over having a stick of charcoal to bury!” Sebastian retaliated and Ominis recoiled in indignation.
“So you're fine with them taking something so inherently dangerous forever!?” Ominis’ voice was now pitched high in distressed incredulity.
“We don't even know if it is dangerous for them!” Sebastian groaned in frustration. “Isidora was already insane to begin with, who in their right mind would think losing all emotion and sense of self is a cure!? Maybe their Ancient Magic makes them immune to becoming a monster. And the goblins died from cold turkey withdrawal, but we have the means to create more so that's not a concern.”
“Means to make more.” Ominis echoed bitterly. “How lightly you speak of torture.”
Seeing that none of his words were getting through to Ominis, and perhaps hurt by being painted so negatively by someone he loved, Sebastian growled, low and angry. “Why don't you just say it? You think I don't care! You think I'm a heartless monster!”
“What else am I supposed to think!?” Ominis exclaimed, and at that confirmation, redness began darkening the skin around Sebastian's eyes.
Oh boy, the Keeper sighed, they needed to get their partners back on track, both of them were going completely off the rails.
Raising their hands and voice before things could get worse, the Keeper interjected. “Look, boys. Quarrelling over this achieves nothing!”
The two paused and the Keeper barrelled on before the boys could start shooting again. “The facts are these, I need the Pain energy, at least for now, if I want to achieve our goals. And I'm doing my best to be cautious. I'm thinking of wearing the armlet outside of battle to see if I can train up my resistance and self-control.”
“Or, you can just stick to the jars that have worked so far.” Ominis countered.
“Oh, great!” Sebastian barked a disdainful laugh. “Let's never improve our methodology. Let's keep giving enemies more openings to kill our partner. And all to avoid a potentially dangerous outcome that hasn't even been proven to exist!”
“Sebastian.” The Keeper held a hand up to hush him before Ominis could explode, and the brunet obediently folded his arms with a sulky expression.
Taking Ominis’ balled up fists and coaxing them to relax, the Keeper spoke as soothingly as possible. “Love, we haven't even tried yet, we don't have any information to be afraid over. I made a mistake, I should have tried the armlet with you and Sebastian, but even then, I managed to catch and stop myself. Cast diagnosa on me, and you can see for yourself that I'm alright.”
“Their eyes weren't even red when we came in.” Sebastian added with a pointed huff.
Ominis threw a glare in his general direction, casting the diagnostic charm on the Keeper with an irritated flick of his wand. He frowned for a moment, before giving them a grudging sigh. Well, that's encouraging.
The Keeper placed a gentle peck on Ominis’ lips, before continuing with a smile. “Let's just try, slowly. I'll put a tiny sliver into the armlet. Wear it around the house and to bed tonight. Just a small amount that won't go over tomorrow's maintenance dose, even if I accidentally take some. And you can be right by my side and monitor my condition the whole time. Alright?”
His expression was still sour, but Ominis gave them a curt nod and the Keeper bit back their own sigh, knowing from the look in his eyes that this discussion was far from over.
Notes:
You can also view the artwork in HD for free on my Patreon page!
I feel like Sebastian would get the Patronus charm really quickly, mostly just because he's so one-track minded, ma boi is just super happy when he's happy and just super angry when he's angry. Ominis is constantly feeling a mix of conflicting emotions and the Keeper's just kinda desensitised and dead inside.
Also, fun fact, in cat sociology, the higher cat in the hierarchy grooms the ones beneath them. In other words, that was some dom power move from Ominis, to be grooming a bloody wolf twice his size xP
I really wanna draw these kids cuddling as Animagi, but I'm not super confident that I can draw animals well, so it'll take some experimentation xD
Edit: It was hard, holy shit, it was so hard. But I am kinda happy with how it turned out, so yay! God, I love the fold of Sebastian's ear, I feel like it fits him, so I'm happy with how that turned out xP
Wheee! We finally get to torture Tobbs’ owner, it's gonna be great. Hope you guys are looking forward to it xP
I feel like one of the root causes of Sebastian and Ominis’ conflict in the game is their differing ways of making decisions.
Ominis uses morality to value things, including himself. Am I a ‘good’ person? However he kinda goes with vibes to decide what's ‘good’, because he's not experienced enough to realise that what feels ‘good’ or doesn't, is subjective. ‘Good’ changes depending on what you prioritise, what angle you view a scenario from.
Sebastian on the other hand, is very critical, very logical and almost oblivious to the vibes around a topic, and that can come off as cold and calculative, when it's the more objective and empirical approach. Especially because it doesn't come naturally to him, to give people like Ominis good vibes before trying to reason with them. Throw in Sebastian's tendency to honestly display his very strong emotions and opinions if he's feeling them, and people somehow decide he's faking them because he's usually so logical.
Which is probably why some people like Ominis more than Sebastian, because Ominis is more visually and vibe-y relatable (especially for people who are also vibes based) and he virtue-signals super hard, and people tend to wrongly conflate that cold/calculative vibe with manipulative. When in reality, Ominis is vibes-based PLUS manipulative, whereas Sebastian is logical and calculative but not manipulative.
The next chapter will be almost entirely dedicated to resolving this (particular) conflict and I hope ya'll will like how the drama goes ;)
Ominis fought to control his expression, to keep his hands from trembling. Five years. Five years since he'd seen his parents, and this. This was the reason they'd given him the honour of their time? This was the reason they'd sought him out at Hogwarts?
The bitterness welling up within him was thick enough to gag on.
New year, new allies, new responsibilities, new avenues of revenue, and new aspects of their own Ancient Magic to explore. As the Keeper and their partners enter their last year at Hogwarts, it remains to be seen if the new school year will bring with it new problems or adversaries, but they are confident in the strength of their relationship with Sebastian and Ominis. The three of them would endure, no matter what befell them.
And if they were wrong?
What a joke, they would suffer no alternative.
Warnings: Sebastian x MC x Ominis! Drug Addiction! Spoilers! Slow-burn corruption! Dark content! Fucked up 1800s orphanages! MC has no love for Anne or Solomon! Dubious happy ending (it's happy for MC, Seb and Ominis at least).
You can also read on AO3! (chapter specific warnings below)
Notes:
Warnings: Canon-typical violence, blood, death, all that fun stuff xD
So, I fell sick, and for some reason, I started writing a short spin-off Fairytale AU for this series. I don't know if I want to upload it as part of this series when I'm done lol
And I'm exhausted, so I'm gonna upload early and hit the hay, this chapter is like 10.6k words, good lord why does the word count keep rising-
With a clang, the arrow shooting towards the Keeper, hit their shield charm and clattered to the floor.
Retreating a step back behind the wall, they peaked cautiously around the corner and scrutinised the direction it'd come from. It took a minute, but they quickly spotted the crossbow and threw a standard cast at it, shattering it, before using reparo to fix it after they'd gotten past, and then paused to collect the arrow to hide evidence of the triggered trap.
They sighed, the last hour had been remarkably tedious. While, fortunately, thanks to Borgok's refusal, Gnarlak didn't have a lock on his secret base at the calibre of Gringotts' bank vaults, the three locks on the front door had been magic resistant and it was only thanks to the Keeper's skill in lockpicking that they were able to enter.
Though their fingers nearly froze trying to lockpick without gloves in the early fucking winter.
Said entrance, carved into the side of a mountain, led into a literal maze and the Keeper had already spent almost an hour navigating it. Fortunately, the enclosed nature of this underground maze actually made it easier to find the correct path, unlike the Eunon Blackwood hedge mazes.
Whenever they reached a fork in the maze, they'd pick up a rock, reduce it to dust, and scatter the dust upwards, to see which path the air flowed through more freely. It was a slow method, but all they needed to do was make one mistake, step into one trap that their shield wouldn't stop, and they'd be dead.
At least the unknown large creature Gnarlak owned couldn't possibly fit in such a small maze.
Oh yes, the ceiling was lower than Garreth's grades. The Keeper wouldn't be bending over for a week after this, not even for Sebastian or Ominis.
Well, maybe.
If Sebastian asked nicely.
...or if Ominis demanded it.
Wow, their brain really only had one place to go when they were bored.
To their relief, the maze soon came to an end and the cramped, claustrophobic corridors gave way to a dizzyingly large open cavern. It was a pity that there hadn't been any fun puzzles in the maze, unlike the Elder Keepers’ trials, but considering that Gnarlak was trying to kill intruders, not test them... Kind of understandable.
Poking their head out of the tunnels, the Keeper cast a lumos maxima, sending the bright orb up into the air to hover just under the ceiling, illuminating the area. The cavern was large enough that they couldn’t quite imagine how whatever Gnarlak had used to carve this place out, had been brought in to begin with. Then again, perhaps he'd constructed the drill in here instead, and left the machine somewhere further in.
There were several large pillars of natural stone left untouched, holding the ceiling up, and what looked like a pair of tunnels leading off to the left and right. Impressively enough, the ceiling of the cavern was even higher up than the spire of Dìon castle.
Deeming it safe to proceed, they cautiously inched out of the tunnel, shield at the ready as they straightened. When nothing happened, the Keeper relaxed, biting back a groan as they took a moment to stretch. Good lord, those tunnels were awful. How the hell did Faun manage to sneak around a base made to that height for over a month?
Taking a few steps forward, the Keeper grimaced when their footsteps echoed across the stone, well, their boots were made for combat, not stealth. Besides, they wanted to draw out anything that would stop them from getting the kill.
A deafening roar split the air, bouncing off the cavern walls and splitting the Keeper's ears as well. Bloody hell, clearly the monster wanted to deafen them first.
Covering their ears, the Keeper's eyes darted about, just barely catching a glimpse of something large shooting out from the tunnel to the left, before it landed on the floor before them with a violent crash that shook the earth.
Large wings spread overhead, casting a shadow over stone and the Keeper sighed. Of course, a dragon. What else would it be.
Actually... the Keeper's eyes narrowed as they spied a familiar collar around the dragon's neck, quickly recognising it as the same beast that attacked their carriage during fifth-year, on their way to Hogwarts for the first time. Had the dragon been here in captivity this whole time? If that was the case, maybe this cavern had been in use since Ranrok.
“Hello again, a tad overdue for our rematch, aren't we?” The Keeper bared their teeth as the dragon roared, jaws spreading wide open and from deep within its throat, rose a bright hot glow.
Without a second to waste, the Keeper dived to the side, augmenting their roll with ancient magic to dash further out of the range of the plume of fire that spewed towards them like the flames of hell. Well, too bad, the Keeper knew they would burn, but it wasn't the time yet.
Hiding behind a pillar, the Keeper popped the cap off a jar from their satchel, and took a sliver of C-Pain in their mouth, shoving the jar back in as their eyes burned red. Ugh, they'd be glad when they had an energy armlet that they could use to consume energy on the go, rather than juggle all these cumbersome jars.
There was no time to complain, however, and they dashed once again as the dragon appeared from around the pillar. The glow of their Ancient Magic was now red, and their dash took them far further than before, the power of Pain rushing through their body.
“Bombarda!” The Keeper shouted, twisting and flicking their wand to throw the spell at the dragon, only for it to shake its head lightly, brushing off the blast like it was nothing.
Right, magically resistant creatures that required half a dozen stunners cast simultaneously to momentarily stun. That was inconvenient, but let's see how it does against something stronger.
The Keeper collected a vast amount of Ancient Magic in their wand instead, and sent a red blast of pure magic at the dragon. This time, the great creature was knocked off to the side in the middle of its lunge towards them and it roared as it slammed into a nearby pillar.
Okay, still not very effective, they grumbled to themselves, dashing again as the dragon got up inside the cloud of dust and blew fire at them. It did seem to do some damage, but knocking the dragon off its feet wasn't worth that much magic. They had brought a lot of C-Pain energy, but the more they used, the harder it would be to return to their regular dosage later.
As they dodged, a large rock fell from the ceiling, dislodged when the dragon slammed into the pillar, and it landed right on the creature's back. The dragon roared in pain and the Keeper took the opportunity to examine the cavern again. There were eight large pillars. An idea bloomed in their mind, and they grinned. If they couldn't use magic, then they would use the environment.
Ducking behind a pillar, the Keeper took another sliver of C-Pain and then dashed again when the dragon chased them around the obstruction. The creature was clearly being careful not to damage the pillars, the Keeper noted as they rolled out of the way of its fire, just barely avoiding being turned to charcoal. Clever.
They weaved through the pillars for several minutes, gradually widening the gap between the dragon and themselves with their boosted physical strength, before looping around a pillar and coming to a stop.
Brandishing their wand at the pillar, now perfectly placed between the Keeper and the dragon, they shouted. “Bombarda Maxima!”
The red hued spell slammed into the pillar and the impact shattered it, sending large boulders flying towards the dragon on the other side. The explosive momentum of their spell essentially turning the boulders into canons and firing them into the dragon's face.
The dragon roared as it was barraged with heavy boulders, pelting its scales and slamming into its wings. Now enraged, the great beast lunged for the Keeper and a smirk formed on their face when the dragon leapt through the space that was previously occupied by the pillar.
“Reparo!” The Keeper waved their wand with a flourish.
The boulders shot off the floor and swirled around the dragon like a hurricane, smashing into its jaw and wings, before coming back together as tightly as it could, the pillar returning to its original form, but with one difference. The dragon was now trapped inside the rock, its head, tail and one of its wings jutting out of the pillar at odd angles.
With a victorious grin, the Keeper withdrew the jar containing the Fear-Pill from their satchel and extracted it with their wand. They weren't sure it would work on the dragon, but it would be easier if they could render the creature unconscious and remove its collar, rather than kill it. They cautiously approached the dragon's head, and when it opened its mouth to roar, they lobbed the pill into its mouth.
Unfortunately, the dragon seemed to realise what they were doing and even as the pill flew into its mouth, it conjured fire from within its belly and blasted the pill back out. The Keeper cursed, diving out of the fire’s path as the pill flew off somewhere in the distance and the dragon began to thrash wildly in its confining rock.
With a roar, the pillar shattered once more, freeing the dragon and forcing the Keeper to dodge the flying boulders. Blast. They rolled when the dragon swiped at them with its claws, taking off once more across the cavern. Round two then.
The Keeper widened the gap once more and blasted a pillar at the dragon like before, but this time it didn't leap over the spot where the pillar had once stood, going around it instead. Well, dragons were certainly clever. Hopefully Shai wouldn't give them this much trouble when it grew up.
So, the Keeper continued to blast pillars at the dragon, casting reparo to fix them shortly after, for the fewer pillars there were, the less there was to hide behind and the more room for the dragon to attack them freely. Not to mention, they really didn't want to bring the ceiling down.
While they were certainly not dealing any blows of deadly force, the Keeper was slowly but surely wearing the dragon down. Honestly, this fight would have been hilariously short if they didn't have C-Pain to keep their stamina and strength up, and for a moment, the dragon seemed to realise that it was losing this battle of attrition.
Breathing heavily, after a little over an hour of fighting, the dragon turned to flee down the tunnel to the west, before letting out a shriek of pain. The Keeper watched with a frown, as the collar around the dragon's neck flared bright red and it collapsed to the floor, seeming to go into a seizure.
The dragon dragged itself to its feet and tiredly lunged at the keeper again, and they resumed their dodging. It seemed like the dragon was most certainly being forced to kill any intruders and did not have the option to flee, on pain of... well, pain.
As they finished their first C-Pain jar, the Keeper wondered if there was a difference between the way they consumed Pain energy as a drug, and one that caused pain with the same energy. Perhaps the collar was a method Ranrok had discovered, one that allowed him to inject Pain forcefully, in a way that caused the collared person to experience it, rather than become empowered by it, while the armlet allowed for consumption in a way that did so.
Still, they were burning through their C-Pain energy concerningly fast and had only a little over an hour to finish this before Gnarlak arrived.
The Keeper cursed as the dragon slammed its weight into a pillar that they were about to blast at it, turning the tables and using their own method against them, in what might have been an act of desperation. Casting a Protego and leaping backwards, their shield caught a large chunk of pillar and shattered under its weight.
While the shield took the brunt of that boulder, shards of flying rocks flew at them like bullets, and several caught them in the legs, ripping through their clothing and skin, and slowing their retreat.
With a roar, the dragon swiped at them with its tail, which caught the Keeper in the side and threw them across the cavern, into the wall, where they slid down into a heap on the floor.
Coughing through the dust, the Keeper struggled to stand, can't afford to be dazed, but found their legs to be covered in blood and in enough pain that they practically felt numb.
Shaky fingers fumbled for their wiggenweld potions, downing three in rapid succession before tossing aside the vials, and they rolled across the floor to avoid the dragon's claws, that slammed down where they'd been a moment ago.
Pointing their wand at a large rock a distance away, the Keeper shouted. “Accio!”
With the rock being far heavier than themselves, the Keeper was instead dragged across the floor rather painfully towards it, putting some distance between the dragon and themselves.
Balling up their Ancient Magic once more in their wand, the Keeper threw the red tinged magic at the dragon while it lunged at them, knocking it to the side, and it fell backwards into the collapsed remains of the pillar it'd just destroyed.
“Reparo!” The Keeper shouted, hoping that this time, the dragon would be too tired to break free of the pillar.
The dragon roared until it was silenced, encased in stone, and this time, its chest was exposed while its head was covered. The Keeper took another sliver of C-Pain while their calves itched and burned as the wiggenweld healed their flesh wounds, before holstering their wand and drawing the dagger that Sebastian had given them.
Having recovered enough to move, they leapt forward, landing on the dragon's exposed belly, and grabbed one of the great dragon's scales tightly between their fingers. Chest heaving with exertion and with a grunt of effort, the Keeper ripped the scale out, exposing the dragon's soft underbelly.
Shoving the bloody scale into their pocket, they held the dagger in both hands and brought it down on the dragon's hide. The blade's tip pierced the thick skin, but its body was so tough that they struggled to get it in further.
The Keeper's eyes glowed red and they leaned back, before throwing their weight forward again, putting all their strength into it, red bleeding from their body as they strained their muscles to their limit.
Until finally, with a shout, the blade sank fully into the dragon's body.
The pillar shook as the dragon's exposed tail thrashed, and the Keeper released the hilt of the dagger. Leaving it buried in the dragon's body, they jumped back and out of the way, before the pillar shattered once more.
The dragon thrashed violently in the shower of rock and stone, and the Keeper struggled to dodge the hail as they distanced themselves from it.
This continued till the debris settled and the Keeper watched warily as the dragon got to its feet unsteadily.
Had the poison not begun to work yet? Or was the poison not enough? The Keeper worried, but it seemed that they had been needlessly concerned, as the dragon barely managed to stumble a step forward, before collapsing to the floor.
They approached, watching silently as the dragon struggled to regain its footing, growling and wheezing.
A feeling of pity overtook the Keeper as they watched it struggle, threatening growls soon giving way to high pitched fearful whines and whimpers.
This creature hadn't fought them because it wanted to. It hadn't killed Osric because it wanted to. It had been forced. With their Pain energy, the power that Ranrok had stolen from them.
How hollow a victory this was.
As the dragon's struggles abated and its bright orange eyes began to lose their glow, the Keeper cautiously approached, knelt by its jaw and placed their hand gently on the side of its head.
“I'm sorry.” The Keeper murmured. “But you have my word, this will not happen again.”
The dragon's breathing gradually became weaker and soon, it ceased to draw breath altogether.
With a heavy sigh, the Keeper stood. The cavern was now eerily quiet, and they grimaced as they drew their wand. A quick tempus told them that it was almost five, they didn't have time to rest, and they took another sliver of C-Pain energy to recover their stamina, before getting to work.
Placing their wand against the dragon's collar, they tugged the E-Pain energy out of the band and transferred it to the empty jar. Before inspecting the collar, finding a latch on the back that they could unfasten and they removed it with some effort, placing it in their satchel.
Then they went to its belly and grasped the hilt of their dagger, pulling it from the dragon's body slowly and carefully. Wouldn't be funny if they cut themselves on it or got some of the bloodroot poison in them after all.
It took some effort to dislodge, but as the blade came free, it snapped in half, and the Keeper sighed as they held the broken blade. It looked like the shattered glass in the middle had weakened its structural integrity.
Well, at least they could bring back this half for now, the rest of the blade would be recovered when they gutted the dragon for parts.
“Tynx, Tibsy, Penny.” The Keeper called out as they sheathed the dagger, and with three soft pops, the elves appeared beside them.
Penny was quite startled by the dragon carcass and stumbled back in fright, but Tibsy steadied and comforted her, while Tynx bowed to the Keeper. “Yes, Master?”
“Take this carcass back to Dìon territory and harvest its parts.” The Keeper instructed. “But keep them separate from the parts of Shai's mother. This carcass is contaminated by poison, so its value is likely reduced, but it might still be worth something.”
“Yes, Master.” Tynx nodded and turned towards the other elves. “If we combine our magic, we should be able to get it home.”
“There's a blade and glass shards in its belly, so be careful of that. And the aforementioned poison.” The Keeper added as the elves plodded over to the carcass, Penny still looking rather disturbed.
The Keeper were quite glad that they'd had their elves wear shoes, if they cut their feet and stepped in poisoned blood, that would be quite... bad.
With that, the three elves snapped their fingers in unison and the large dragon's carcass disappeared, along with the elves.
The Keeper flicked their wand to vanish the blood from the floor and restored the pillar with a reparo, before turning to scan the cavern. Now they had to find the Fear-Pill. Great.
“Tempus.” The Keeper cast, fifteen minutes past five. They had to get a move on, but how would they find it? Should they search for it after killing Gnarlak?
Ugh, no time. For now, they would just check the place and perhaps they would come across it.
The Keeper walked across the cavern, limping slightly as their wounds continued to heal with the aid of their wiggenweld potions. Checking for traps or secret tunnels, and as they did so, a curious feeling began to gnaw at them.
It felt almost like a pull.
Like something in their body was gravitating towards something else, something nearby.
The Keeper wondered for a moment if they should be listening to that pull, but decided that if they kept their guard up, it would be alright. So, they closed their eyes and focused on the sensation.
In their mind's eye, the Keeper stood, a single point in space, and they could feel something familiar pulling them in one direction and in another, something almost cold.
The Keeper recalled the misty smoke, given off by the Fear-Pill, and its chill. If it was constantly smoking, perhaps that was what they were sensing?
Well, they had been hoping to find and retrieve the Fear-Pill, so they decided to follow the cold sensation first, moving cautiously and occasionally opening their eyes to avoid tripping.
After a few minutes, they felt as though they were right beside the cold spot. When they opened their eyes and looked around, they quickly spotted the Fear-Pill lodged in a crack in the floor. Using their wand, they extracted it and placed it back in its jar.
Now to investigate the other pull. If the cold sensation was the Fear-Pill, then...
They closed their eyes, focusing once again, and followed the tug.
Every step towards it felt like falling.
Growing stronger as they walked, until they found themselves standing before a wall. How strange. The Keeper examined the wall for a moment before casting a Revelio. As the charm washed over the area, something on the wall lit up in their vision, a rock that seemed unnaturally smooth.
They tapped the rock with their wand and the wall split in two, sliding aside to reveal what was unmistakably a Repository, with familiar E-Pain swirling within its confines. So, this was what Gnarlak was hiding here, a grin that was all teeth spread across their face, this must have been a backup cache Ranrok had sequestered away for distribution to his army.
With a wave of their wand, the Repository opened, and the Keeper examined its contents. It didn't look like there was much left in the silver receptacle, certainly not enough to fuel an army for a war. What strategist would be spoiling for a war when their trump card was so diminished?
That was strange to them, especially after Gnarlak had proven his intelligence and paranoia with his traps, but they supposed it didn't matter to them much. It'd be nice to get an answer to that, but this was first and foremost a job.
The Keeper withdrew an empty jar from their satchel and set to work stealing a majority of the energy, leaving just enough so that it wouldn't be obviously emptied, unless he looked too closely. Even if Gnarlak took the amount of energy they'd left in it, they should still be able to defeat him relatively easily.
Finishing up with that, the Keeper waved their wand and closed the Repository back up, along with the wall. They then took a few more rounds about the cavern to search for anything that would hinder their work and found nothing of note.
Perhaps he felt confident enough in his maze of traps and dragon to leave the cavern relatively clean, or he didn't want to risk the dragon triggering anything. The Keeper thought idly as they cast a disillusionment charm on themselves and hid behind the pillar closest to the Repository, so that they couldn't be seen from the entrance.
Checking the time, the Keeper abruptly remembered to do their evening Animagus chant, and quickly placed their wand against their heart, grimacing at the odd second heartbeat that thrummed in their ears for a moment. They'd be glad when the Animagus process was over and done with, it sure was inconvenient having to do this twice a day.
Fortunately, after all they'd done, the Keeper didn't have to wait very long before they heard footsteps emerging from the maze tunnel. Not too shabby, for everything to have gone perfectly according to schedule.
The Keeper watched as the goblin lumbered across the cavern floor, eyeing his clothes and armour. Surprisingly light on the armour actually, compared to Ranrok and the other Loyalists, he was carrying a smaller axe than usual too, standard crossbow.
Shouldn't be too hard to dispatch. They'd probably be better served going for a clean diffindo at the back while he was busy collecting energy at the Repositor-
“You might as well come out, I can feel your bloodlust.” The goblin called out as he came to a stop before the wall, turning around to face the pillar they'd been hiding behind.
Well, there went all their efforts to stay undetected.
The Keeper leisurely stepped out from behind the pillar, dispelling their disillusionment charm with a flick of their wand.
“You...” Gnarlak’s beady eyes gleamed with hatred the moment they landed on the Keeper. “I'd been wondering what manner of creature the eyes I'd felt belonged to, so careful they were, that even I couldn't discern its owner's intentions. Perhaps it's no surprise that it would be you.”
“Know me, do you?” The Keeper chuckled, leaning casually against the pillar they'd emerged from.
“Of course. Soulless murderer.” The goblin bit out.
“Pot, kettle.” They snorted. “I think at this rate, you'll have killed more of your own kind than I.”
“Perhaps, but unlike you, I haven't touched the red magic.” Gnarlak sneered.
The Keeper frowned, was he seriously considering the usage and consumption of Pain energy on par with killing his own fellow goblins?
“How'd you tell?” The Keeper asked, struggling to keep their tone conversational and indifferent.
“The red in your eyes gives you away, child.” Gnarlak answered with a smirk. “But it is so subdued. None I know would be able to resist gorging themselves on that magic, makes my Loyalists so obedient and easy to control. So, for the red to be that mild, you must be running out. That's why you're here, isn't it?”
The Keeper narrowed their eyes, well, if he thought so, they weren't about to correct him.
“I'm sure you're thirsting for more, would you like some?” He tapped the wall with what was probably Vesper’s wand, and it opened to reveal his nearly empty Repository, a misty red fog spilling into the chamber.
“If you kneel before me and beg for forgiveness, perhaps I'll share some of the power Ranrok discovered.” Gnarlak’s grin was cruel and his tone mocking.
“I think you mean stole.” The Keeper spat, some of their legitimate anger rising to the surface, as they left their spot against the pillar to stand in the centre of the chamber, several metres away from him. “That power is mine by right.”
“Is that a no?” Gnarlak ignored their statements, and the Keeper intentionally looked away, hoping to give him the impression that they were tempted by the offer.
“So that's how you've been controlling your army? By being the only provider of their drug. Why are you giving out that power in such vast quantities?” The Keeper asked instead, wouldn't do to kill a double like Faun did after all. “Do you not fear depleting your trump card long before the war even begins?”
Gnarlak scoffed. “I care little for what comes after the war. My lord and my love died to bring and win the war for our people, and then they turned on him. Denounced him!”
His voice was a furious shout by the end, pain written all over his face. “They abandoned Ranrok. He who laid down his life and his sanity for them. I care not if my kinsmen win or lose the war. I will simply bring it about, as my love intended.”
Well, can't fake that level of madness, plus he was missing a finger like Faun said.
So Gnarlak would begin a war and then leave his fellow goblins at the mercy of wizardkind, all to punish them for denouncing Ranrok, for not heralding him as a martyred messiah. At least Ranrok had wanted the E-Pain energy to win the war, this madman practically wanted his people to lose it.
“Your lord.” The Keeper spat in disgust. “Killed his own brother in cold blood. He was insane.”
“Yes...” Gnarlak’s pupils were pinpricks as he gazed, seemingly through the Keeper, at something far in the distance, visible only to him. “He gave up everything, his family, his life and his sanity. We knew what the red magic was doing to him, and he forbade me from touching it myself, but he needed it, to win the war.”
The Keeper flinched. That sounded too much like their own words to Sebastian and Ominis. They needed it. To cure Anne, to protect what was theirs. The mantra they repeated to themselves every time they stilled their trembling fingers, as they struggled against the urge to consume more than their weekly dose.
How then, were they different from Ranrok?
“All will feel our pain.” Gnarlak murmured and the Keeper bristled at his words.
No, they were different from Ranrok. They just wanted to be free of suffering for the rest of their days, and maybe get the justice that had been denied them.
Ranrok and his Loyalist army wanted to tip the scales and become the oppressors, wanted to grind all of Wizardkind under heel. Innocent and guilty thrown into the same hellfire the goblins had endured. Simply trading places, the suffering unending.
Gnarlak was worse, he abstained from touching the Pain energy, sure, but he had no loyalty to anything or anyone. He'd lost all principles and only sought destruction. He had to die. This wasn't just a job anymore.
It was their job.
“Very well.” The Keeper made a show of putting away their wand in their thigh holster, and strode forward calmly, not reacting when a wide smirk spread across Gnarlak’s face. “If you give me the rest of your ‘red magic’, I will serve.”
Placing a hand over their heart and dropping to one knee at the goblin's feet, the Keeper bowed their head, as one would before a king. Cackles of laughter grated on their ears, but it only lasted for a handful of seconds.
Their eyes glowed red and in a single smooth motion, the Keeper's hand dropped to grasp the hilt of Sebastian's dagger, drawing the broken blade, and with their enhanced speed, swiftly slashed it across Gnarlak’s throat, silencing him before he could so much as blink.
The goblin fell backwards with a choked gurgle, and collapsed to the floor, clutching at his throat as blood bubbled through his lips and squeezed past his palm, flowing down his arm and seeping into his cloth.
The Keeper stood slowly, watching impassively as Gnarlak inched backwards across the floor, trying to distance himself from them. Fear and anger in his eyes, even as his veins darkened with the residual poison still coating the dagger.
“I fight to protect, you fight to throw away what Ranrok left you. His poisonous dream ends with you.” The Keeper gazed down at him, as they drew and raised their wand to finish the job. “Diffindo.”
The goblin's head hit the floor and rolled for a few steps, while his body slumped to the ground.
And just like that, it was done.
The Keeper took a deep breath, before sighing and stooping to collect Vesper’s wand, shoving it into their satchel as they straightened. They had more work and cleaning up to do before they could go home.
Casting a levitation charm on the goblin's boot, the Keeper raised it so that he hung upside down in the air and the blood drained from his corpse through the opening in his neck.
They then collected the remaining E-Pain energy and placed the empty Repository into their satchel as well. They would give it to Borgok that he might recycle the silver to craft their purchases from, should offset the price somewhat.
It took a while before Gnarlak’s head and body were emptied enough to make less of a mess, and the Keeper shoved both into an expanded pouch they'd brought along, to provide evidence of their kill.
Finished with everything they needed to do, the Keeper took out Owl's two-way pocket mirror and opened it. “Owl.”
A moment later, he appeared in the reflection, a wide smile on his face. “Hey, kid! You're still alive!”
“Of course, finished off Gnarlak too.” The Keeper snorted. “And there was a bloody dragon in here.”
“A dragon!?” Owl exclaimed. “What happened with it?”
“Like I said, there was a dragon in here.” The Keeper smirked and Owl's eyes became very round and wide.
“Damn, a dragon too. Guess I underestimated you.” The man murmured.
“Anyway, I'll meet you at the pub to give you your payment around ten.” The Keeper continued. “If you get there before me, help me ask Alasdair to send Borgok a letter to see if he's free to meet tonight?”
Owl nodded. “Can do. Though, you sure, kid? You don't look so goo-”
The Keeper closed the mirror and pocketed it again.
A quick tempus informed them that it was just past seven, well, that gave them enough time to have dinner with Ominis and Sebastian, and grab a change of clothes.
Looking down at their torn and bloodied clothing, the Keeper sighed and turned to leave the cavern. Thank goodness Ominis was blind, they'd never hear the end of it if he were to see them like this.
That was what the Keeper so thought at least, until they collapsed on Dìon castle's doorstep, the panicked shouts of their boyfriends ringing in their ears.
“Absolutely not! You're going to rest for the rest of the night!” Ominis exclaimed, storming after the Keeper as they strode towards the castle entrance.
“I'm fine, Ominis.” The Keeper shook their head. “I've already told Owl I'll be meeting with him at the Phantom’s in thirty minutes and possibly Borgok. I'd rather get this all sorted out tonight if I can.”
“You just collapsed from an impacted liver and a bloody hemothorax!” Ominis grabbed them by the arm, looking like he was barely restraining himself from pinning them to the floor to keep them from leaving.
“Which you've healed up quite nicely, I barely feel a thing!” The Keeper smiled brightly and gave him a kiss on the cheek.
“You-” Ominis spluttered in indignation, before spinning around with a glare. “Sebastian! Say something!”
The brunet in question was busying with something in his... bag.
“Sebastian, why are you taking out your broom?” The Keeper asked warily.
“Isn't it obvious?” Sebastian returned dryly, shooting them a glare that almost matched Ominis’ in intensity. “You're not fine, not even close.”
The Keeper blinked as his knuckles turned white around the broom's handle, his voice trembling as he spoke. “If I hadn't made that dagger for you-”
“But you did.” The Keeper interrupted with a soft and grateful smile. “And it saved my life.”
“Well, it shouldn't have!” Sebastian shouted, shaking his broom at them. “It was supposed to be a fail-safe! A last resort! There wasn't supposed to be a bloody dragon in there!”
“If I hadn't-” Sebastian's eyes were dark, in a way they’d only seen when talking about Anne's curse before. “If there were something worse, you might not have come home.”
The Keeper grimaced and folded their arms. Admittedly they hadn't thought they'd end up using the dagger either. The dragon had caught them off guard too and with its magic resistance, they doubted anything else they had would have put it down. They supposed that for all his confidence and bravado, Sebastian hadn't thought the stakes quite as high as they'd ended up being.
“I won't stop you from taking jobs like these.” Sebastian muttered, his voice strained. “But I’m not letting you go alone again until I'm convinced that you'll come home.”
With a sigh, the Keeper gave him a helpless smile. “I suppose I can't argue when you put it that way.”
“You most certainly can't argue if we put it any other way either.” Ominis scoffed.
“And I'm going with you tonight, to make sure you don't pass out in the middle of Knockturn Alley or something.” Sebastian added firmly.
The Keeper sighed, they supposed it wouldn't hurt to have Sebastian with them, Owl was already aware that they were living with him in Feldcroft after all.
“Fine. You can come with, but try not to say too much around Owl.” The Keeper conceded. “The man's sharper than a unicorn's horn.”
Receiving a nod from Sebastian, they then turned to Ominis. “Does that satisfy you, darling?”
Their blind lover didn't seem entirely appeased, but gave them a grudging nod, his lips pressed together into a thin line. “If you start having difficulty breathing, you come right back home, you hear me?”
The Keeper chuckled, pressing a kiss to the corner of his mouth. “Yes sir. I'll come home and you can drain any fluid you want out of me.”
Ominis’ cheeks flushed and he pushed them away with an annoyed huff. “Ugh, just go before I change my mind.”
Grinning, the Keeper gave Sebastian a casual pat on the shoulder. “Come on, then.”
“Don't worry, I'll keep an eye on them.” Sebastian murmured to Ominis as he followed.
Shaking his head, Ominis gave a tired sigh and ran a hand over his hair, as the doors closed behind his lovers. At this rate, he was definitely going to lose all said hair by the time they reached their thirties.
Still, they'd come home alive, which was better than he'd feared, considering that the Keeper had gone up against a dragon on their own. He would have thought they'd come home more injured than the Hogsmeade broom incident rather than less. He grimaced, the memory alone was enough to tempt him to go downstairs to pay the depressed Selwyn an unpleasant visit.
Ominis shook the thoughts from his mind, no, he should just focus on being happy that they'd survived. With another sigh, he turned to head up the stairs.
At least their room here in Dìon finally had a proper bed, he was beyond exhausted.
The image of the Keeper’s broken body on Hogsmeade’s cobblestone remained burned into Sebastian's mind, as he followed them silently through Knockturn Alley and towards the pub. Not quite how he'd pictured his first trip into the illicit derelicts, but he was still too upset to really take in the sights.
From the moment the Keeper landed on the grass of Dìon castle's lawn, covered in blood, robes torn and tattered, smiling at him and Ominis as they collapsed, he could not shake the memory that had resurfaced.
His stomach had turned, and it was all Sebastian could do to hold in his panic as he carried them into the castle kitchens and set them down on Shai's bed to warm their cooling body, while Ominis hurriedly cast charm after charm on them. It was just from their flight through the cold winter air, but it felt all too familiar, the stench of rust and smoke, cold blood on his hands and nothing he could do.
Why had he agreed to let them go alone? Talking up a weapon he never thought would be needed. It was almost more terrifying that the Keeper hadn't disagreed, when he suggested that they'd needed the blade to win that battle.
Even with the Keeper's insane Ancient Magic and C-Pain energy, it was a plain old dagger and poison made by a novice that ended up legitimately being their trump card!? That had been a joke! The whole project was something to do to occupy himself. To scratch that frustrating itch by doing something, anything that made him feel like he was contributing to their survival, no matter how small.
It was supposed to have been small.
It hadn't been.
His 'small' contribution had brought them home.
What if he hadn't finished it in time? What if he hadn't made it strong enough? No, he couldn't let them do this again. He now understood why his beloved had lost their temper with him for being reckless on the Marunweem mountain. It was unbearable, imagining what might have happened to them if he hadn't gone with the old adage of, ‘better too much than not enough’, for the poison dosage.
He'd thought Ominis over-worrying as always, as the blond paced a hole into the floor for almost the entire four hours, till the elves came back with the dragon's body. His boyfriend had almost passed out from relief when Tynx said the Keeper was fine, and Sebastian had felt assured in his confidence in them.
Now, he felt like Ominis’ worry had been well founded and it was Sebastian who'd been stupidly overconfident. Again.
But what could he do? He was always just... tagging along. Following and watching, the sidekick of the main character. The Keeper, always solving his problems, providing cryptic mysterious answers while he stood on the sidewalk, and every time he acted on his own, he messed up and hurt someone. His uncle, Ominis, and even the Keeper themselves.
So, he'd been content to follow their lead and trust their judgement, let them guide him and point him in the right direction, but... what if they weren't as all-knowing as they came off? Twice now, they'd almost died while he wasn't watching. What could he do? What was he supposed to do?
Merlin, the Keeper drove him mad, in all the innumerable ways he needed them, relied on them. No, they hadn't been wrong about their direction, they just hadn't been strong enough. That's all.
He couldn’t afford to lose them. He just needed to make sure the Keeper had all the power in the world. As long as they were indestructible, he would have nothing to fear.
Right?
“Sebastian, we're here.” The Keeper whispered quietly to him and touched his arm gently. “Keep your wits about you, love. And just follow my lead.”
Taking a breath, Sebastian nodded. “Always.”
The flash of teeth in the Keeper's grin, under their hood, sent a shiver up his spine. He could almost pretend they hadn't been unconscious from their injuries two hours ago.
Following the Keeper inside, Sebastian glanced about cautiously, so this was the notorious Phantom’s Flask they'd talked about. It certainly looked like any other pub, barring the dour externalities.
“Heeeey, Sal!”
The moment the Keeper lowered their hood, there came a cheerful call from one of the nearby tables and Sebastian lowered his hood as well. Following them to the table, where a skinny fellow with dusty brown hair was seated, looking quite out of place between the intimidating patrons of this pub.
“Owl.” The Keeper nodded in greeting and took a seat, Sebastian doing the same beside them. So, this was the man his partner had hired, somehow, he felt younger than Sebastian had imagined.
“Congratulations on completing your first job, kid.” Owl grinned, raising his mug in toast to them, before adding. “Alasdair says Borgok can make it tonight.”
“Great, my thanks for passing on the message.” The Keeper tipped their head in gratitude.
“It's no bother at all.” Owl shook his head, before giving Sebastian a curious nod. “And who's your friend here?”
“This is Sebastian.” The Keeper answered, to Sebastian's surprise, what happened to aliases?
“Ah, the young man you've been living with!” Owl beamed, snatching Sebastian's hand off the table for an enthusiastic shake. “It's very nice to meet you!”
Sebastian blinked at the man for a few seconds, before cocking an eyebrow at the Keeper. “You told him?”
“Nope.” The Keeper flashed him a wry smile, before turning to speak with a blond lady that stopped by the table.
“Oh, don't sweat it, kid. I'm just too curious for my own good.” Owl gave a hearty laugh and patted Sebastian's hand. “And I peddle information. It's kinda my thing, comes with the trade.”
Right. Tracker and info guy. Must have been real curious to spend extra time sniffing the Keeper's business.
“Is that so...” Sebastian nodded slowly as he retrieved his hand. “Don't suppose you'd like to share how you came about that information?”
Owl chuckled with a pleasantly affable smile. “Now that would be telling, wouldn't it? Got to keep some trade secrets or I'll lose me edge.”
Sebastian snorted lightly, sharp like the Keeper said. For once, he felt like it'd be better if he kept his mouth shut for most of this conversation.
“Speaking of trade.” The Keeper fished out a small pouch from their satchel and slid it across the table. “Here's the rest of your payment and your mirror.”
“Thank you kindly.” Owl grinned as he caught the small pouch.
The moment he did so, a blue flame appeared over the back of his hand.
“What was that?” Sebastian asked curiously.
“Just means the contract's conditions have all been fulfilled.” Owl explained, dropping the pouch into his rucksack and pulling out the rolled-up contract to present it to the teenagers. “See how the seal's turned turquoise? Now we need only bring our contracts to the guildmaster to discharge them.”
What fascinating magic, flashy, and elegant in a way he appreciated, and Sebastian couldn’t help but enquire further. “What happens if a Merc fulfils their end of the contract, but the contractor doesn't pay?”
“Oh, the contractor will feel like they're engulfed in blue flames until they make the agreed payment.” Owl answered with a bit too much enthusiasm. “If the payment is something that can't be made any longer, Alasdair will try to negotiate an alternative, but otherwise, it's... let’s just say, inadvisable trying to get out of paying.”
“I see.” Sebastian murmured, eyeing the colour changing wax seal. He'd spent some time examining the Keeper's contract after they'd gotten it, but it had been impossible to identify the type of wax it employed, and it'd driven him nuts for an entire week.
“And now that you've finished this job, what will you do next?” The Keeper asked Owl, their tone casual and conversational as the blond lady from before came by to drop off two tall glasses of lumpy brown sludge. Passing one to Sebastian, they cautioned. “Drink slowly.”
Taking the glass, Sebastian peered at it curiously and took a slow sip through the straw. What the- he leaned back in surprise.
He squinted at the sludge in the dim lighting, ice? That was bloody genius! He took another sip. Crunchy texture, coffee and chocolate? Brilliant! Could he recreate it? Ominis would love this. How the hell did the guildmaster make the ice so evenly shaved? Not a blade surely, crushing? No, each sheet was too thin. A spell no doubt, but he'd never read of a freezing spell this intricate...
“-stumble on someone who needs assistance or Alasdair points someone at me.” Owl's voice cut in on Sebastian's speculation.
Right, the Keeper was still interrogating Owl, Sebastian shook his head and refocused on the conversation.
“Not too different from the way I made my earnings before, I see. What made you join the Phantoms?” The Keeper asked with a cajoling smile and Sebastian had to look away to calm his heart.
Powerful, intelligent, cunning, oh, and bloody hot. Sometimes Sebastian still felt like he needed to pinch himself to check that he wasn't just having a complex dream of the new fifth-year that just happened to be his type.
“It was mostly happenstance. Shortly after Hogwarts, I stumbled into the pub in the middle of a job, not knowing what it was. Alasdair plucked me out and offered me a spot. Said something about dying young if I play without a team for too long.” Owl laughed. “Won't disagree, he's helped me out of tough spots many a time. Mostly when someone wants info I'm not selling.”
“How much does Alasdair help his Mercs?” The Keeper asked.
“Beyond facilitating contracts, he hammers heads if anyone tries to force us to do a job uncontracted, or tries to cheat us. He plays judge if there's a disagreement over payment.” Owl listed with a thoughtful expression. “He only stays out of it if we're in trouble as part of a job. We get to deal with the consequences of accepting a job that’s over our heads, you know?”
“Makes sense, so how do you decide what jobs to take then?” The Keeper prodded.
Owl flashed them a wry smile that was a tad confusing to Sebastian, but he imagined the Keeper understood it. “I take jobs I'm interested in or work that pays well. Though I don't normally take wet work, you're a bit of an exception. Still rather impressed by how deep your pockets are for a Hogwarts student.”
“What can I say, I do good work.” The Keeper chuckled. “So, what are you going to do with my coin? Enjoy an expensive lifestyle?”
“Oh yes, very expensive lifestyle. Wouldn't recommend taking in six orphans unless you're masochistic.” Owl shook his head.
“You've got six kids!?” Sebastian exclaimed incredulously, somehow the idea of this guy being a dad felt absurd.
“Yup.” Owl's grin was absolutely glowing with pride. “Oldest is in fourth-year at Hogwarts.”
“I guess you like kids.” The Keeper commented dryly.
“Well, yes. That's one reason.” Owl nodded slowly, and his eyes narrowed with some frustration. “The lack of magical orphanages is another.”
“I see.” The Keeper's expression was neutral, and Sebastian was quite amazed that they could wear such a detached look, while he had to take another drink from his glass to smother his grimace.
“I grew up on the muggle streets and I wouldn’t wish that on a magical kid, but I can't run an orphanage on my own and the damn Ministry doesn't give a rat's arse.” Owl shook his head with a tight smile. “So, I do what I can for the kids I come across.”
“And I'll thank you for that.” The Keeper flashed a small smile at the man, which seemed to brighten his disposition some. “If you like helping orphan kids, then perhaps you'll be willing to take another job from me.”
“Oh?” Owl raised an eyebrow, leaning forward to fold his hands on the table. “What kind?”
“I'd like you to help us find his sister.” The Keeper tilted their head towards Sebastian, and he promptly choked on his drink.
“His sister?” Owl echoed, eyeing them warily. “You're not-”
“Sebastian's twin sister, Anne Sallow, cut contact with him and we're hoping for reconciliation, but we don't know where she is and she's not answering our owls.” The Keeper gave Owl a hopeful smile. “I'd appreciate it if you could help these orphan twins reunite. I'll pay you handsomely for this of course.”
Coughing to clear his throat, Sebastian wasn't sure if the tears in his eyes were from choking, or from overwhelming gratitude. He couldn’t believe he hadn't thought of this himself and felt a tad stupid now, of course, a professional tracker would be the perfect person to help them find Anne.
Had the Keeper taken up this Mercenary position, thinking too of the connections they'd obtain that could help Sebastian find his twin? The sheer number of things they'd taken on for him was beyond belief, and honestly, inspired no small amount of guilt in him.
“Want to tell me why she cut contact?” Owl asked with a charming smile and the Keeper laughed.
“You don't need to know that to find her.” They answered with an equally knowing smile and Sebastian felt like he was watching a chess match.
Owl gave them a hearty laugh. “I suppose I don't. Very well, I accept the job. Got anything that might help?”
“We've already searched these locations.” The Keeper unrolled a map on the table and began pointing out some of the towns that Ominis had been to, in search of Anne.
Sebastian was also happy to contribute with Anne's preferences and any habits that could help Owl determine where she might have chosen to live. While the Keeper dodged several more attempts at digging additional information and stopped Sebastian every time he came close to oversharing.
When that was finally done, the Keeper and Owl left Sebastian at the table while they went over to the bar to archive their previous contract and create a new one for Anne's search. He watched from the table as the bartender cum guildmaster stamped a seal on the old contracts, turning the wax a deep green.
Honestly, Sebastian was amazed at how deftly the Keeper was handling all this. While he enjoyed political chess as much as the next Slytherin, he had to admit that it was a bit tiring to play against someone like Owl. The man made it extremely easy to forget that he was an information broker, and Sebastian really couldn't believe that he'd been a Hufflepuff.
Then again, the Keeper had played that game well from the moment he met them- bloody hell, had it really been three years already? It'd been difficult playing against someone he found distractingly attractive, but the whole Anne thing and the lack of Ominis had somewhat tempered his libido.
Now, however? Watching the Keeper striding confidently through a pub full of dangerous wizards, witches, goblins and other creatures, bantering with a bartender who looked like he could snap a man in half with a sneeze. Merlin's blue balls, it was hot.
A little voice in the back of his head that sounded suspiciously like Ominis, reminded Sebastian that he was there to make sure the Keeper didn't push themselves, not gawk at them. Which was difficult to convince himself of, when they looked far more in their element here than he felt.
The Keeper soon returned with Owl in tow, tucking away both the new and old contracts with one hand, while the other held a tray carrying a plate of chips and two new glasses of that brilliant chocolate ice drink.
“Alright, I'll let you know how it goes, but it'll probably take longer than Gnarlak.” Owl was saying as the two reached the table, and he shot Sebastian a small smile. “I doubt your sister's got an army's worth of movements or criminal activity to track, and it doesn't help that she can apparate.”
The Keeper and Sebastian snorted at the same time, the idea of Anne doing anything remotely criminal was laughable.
“It's fine, we'll just be glad to speak with her again.” The Keeper replied evenly as they sat down with the tray, and Sebastian couldn't quite stop himself from glancing at them at their words. After all, they weren't planning to just talk with her.
“Uh huh.” Owl grinned, hefting his rucksack over his shoulder. “See you next week, kid.”
“Till then.” The Keeper nodded, and popped a chip into their mouth, while the tracker gave Sebastian a parting wave as he left the pub.
“That was impressive, you sure got a lot out of him.” Sebastian smiled, curiously stealing a chip from their plate to taste.
Not bad, but he would take no more. Seeing as they'd rushed off after being healed, the Keeper hadn't yet eaten, and he was fairly certain that they planned to hit the hay when they got home, only having eaten this paltry excuse of a snack for dinner. He could already hear Ominis’ complaints.
“Trust me, love. We only got what he deigned to share. That arse knew what I was doing, he was just humouring my prying.” The Keeper grumbled, taking a sip from their glass. “Glad you didn't see my first go, gave him far more when he first tried prodding at me.”
“Hard to imagine, what with the way you handled him this time.” Sebastian chuckled.
“Yeah well, I do learn, you know?” The Keeper flashed him a teasing smile, and Sebastian scolded his heart for going nuts at such a small thing. You'd think they hadn't been dating - and occasionally getting each other off, though not nearly as often as he'd like - for almost two years now.
“That I do.” Sebastian took a gulp of his drink in the hopes of cooling his head down, and winced when a sharp pain bloomed in the back of it.
“I told you to drink slowly.” The Keeper shook their head with a fond smile.
“And now I know why.” Sebastian's laugh was a broken up staccato as he rubbed at the base of his skull.
“Don't worry, it'll pass in a bit.” The Keeper reassured with a fond smile that undid any impact the drink had had on cooling his head, as they popped another chip into their mouth.
A few minutes and most of the plate of chips later, something caught the Keeper's attention, just off to the side, and Sebastian followed their line of sight, spotting a goblin that was lumbering over to their table.
“Borgok.” The Keeper nodded at the goblin, gesturing at the chair across. “Please, take a seat.”
“I assume you have good news.” Borgok's smile was knowing as he sat down.
The Keeper pulled a pouch from their satchel and dropped it on the table. “Here you go, Gnarlak’s head, as agreed.”
The goblin's eyes were wide as he stared at the small bag. “You- is that?”
“Yup, and the rest of him too.” The Keeper nodded and Sebastian wrinkled his nose in disgust, ew.
“Wha- why did you bring his body?” Borgok asked faintly.
“Evidence of the kill?” The Keeper raised an eyebrow in confusion. Ah, Sebastian cringed, right, muggleborn.
Borgok gave an uneasy laugh as he picked up the pouch. “Er, I appreciate the thoroughness, but the contract is evidence enough.”
“Oh.” The Keeper blinked.
“That would be the magic part of the contract.” Sebastian whispered into their ear, and they cleared their throat in some embarrassment.
“Right, good to know.” The Keeper nodded awkwardly, quickly changing the subject. “Anyway, there's also some goblin silver in there that you can use to craft my requested items.”
“Of course, glad to see that I was right about your capabilities.” The goblin nodded slowly as he gingerly placed the pouch in his pocket. “I believe you wanted a cauldron, two collars of human size...”
“And an armlet.” The Keeper continued, handing him a sheet of paper with the measurements for their items. “And make that three collars.”
“Alright.” Borgok nodded, glancing at the list before pocketing the slip. “I should have them ready for you by next week.”
“Oh, what about the Fear-laced blade idea I had?” Sebastian prodded the Keeper in the arm, speaking in a hush. Considering how handy the poisoned dagger had ended up being, he felt like he’d rest easier if they got something stronger to replace it.
“Right, actually, Borgok. Do you think you'd be able to make a dagger that has a similar design to the collars?” The Keeper asked. “Essentially a dagger that would inject in the same way collars do.”
Borgok frowned. “I told you, I don't make weapons anymore.”
“Are you taking the piss?” A surge of anger overtook Sebastian, and he glared at the goblin across the table. “You sent them into a dangerous battle without arming them or giving them anything to go on! They had to kill a bloody dragon to do your damn job and now you're holding out on weapons that'll keep them alive!?”
A crack formed on the glass cup in Sebastian's tight grip and the Keeper placed a hand on his, murmuring quietly. “Calm down, love.”
“A dragon?” Borgok echoed with a startled look.
“Indeed.” The Keeper answered. “Gnarlak had a dragon in his control, and I broke a poisoned dagger in its hide and would like a replacement.”
Borgok's expression was still uncertain, and the Keeper pressed him further.
“Our contract says that you will supply me with any goblin silver metalsmithing. Are you going back on our agreement?” The Keeper's eyes narrowed. “I thought this was to be an ongoing partnership to prevent further uprisings, perhaps you'd like to handle future rebellion leaders on your own, hm?”
The goblin hesitated for a moment more, before sighing and nodding. “Well, I did agree to that, and I suppose there's a difference between crafting weapons to prevent war and crafting them for war. Very well, I'll craft a dagger for you as well, it shouldn't be too difficult to give it a functionality similar to the collars.”
“Thank you.” The Keeper nodded, giving Sebastian a small smile that helped him relax further.
“Did you actually kill the dragon?” Borgok asked after a few moments.
“I did actually, hardest battle since Ranrok himself.” The Keeper chuckled. “Gnarlak was easy by comparison.”
“Incredible, with a poisoned dagger you said?” Borgok asked with some amazement. “We have one living in Gringotts' vault caves that we would unleash upon thieves, so I'm quite familiar with a dragon's ferocity.”
“Yes, it would likely have killed me if not for this dagger Sebastian made.” The Keeper withdrew the broken dagger from their satchel and presented it to the goblin, warning. “Be careful, it's still steeped in poison.”
Borgok drew the dagger from its sheath and inspected the broken blade, the unmistakably sulfuric stench of dragon blood filled the air, along with the sickening sweetness of the poison. “Curious design, and you made this, young man?”
Sebastian nodded. “Had the hollow in the middle covered by glass, with poison inside.”
“To hold enough poison for a dragon... I must say, that's rather brilliant.” The goblin nodded, scrutinising the edge for a moment more, before asking Sebastian. “Interested in blacksmithing?”
“Not exactly, I just wanted them to be safe.” Sebastian murmured, glancing at the Keeper as he answered, though it made him slightly embarrassed when Borgok's eyes softened with understanding. Clearing his throat, Sebastian continued. “Though I was thinking of becoming a Curse Breaker for Gringotts when I graduate.”
“Is that so...” Borgok eyed him speculatively and took another look at the blade in his hands. “Sebastian, was it?”
He raised a questioning eyebrow at the goblin and Borgok steepled his fingers with a small smile. “I'd like to offer you the opportunity to learn from me.”
“Wha-?” Sebastian blinked at him in confusion, what in Merlin's name was this goblin on about?
“My apprentice... my nephew.” Borgok sighed. “Was murdered by Ranrok for seeking peace with wizardkind, and I think he'd be happy if I took on a human as an apprentice. One who understands what it means to create with and for love.”
Sebastian's eyes went wide, there was some poetic irony, that a goblin would seek to bridge relations with humanity through him of all people. He who had spent two years hating and killing goblins, and here he was, being offered apprenticeship by a master blacksmith, who was a goblin.
“And this.” Borgok raised the broken blade. “Unpolished and lacking in technique, but extraordinarily designed and I can feel the effort that went into it. It would be a shame to let a mind for craft and a steady hand go to waste, and I can get you a fast track into the Curse Breaker ranks, if you accept.”
“I-” Sebastian floundered for a moment, before looking to the Keeper for help.
“It's your future, it's up to you.” They patted him on the shoulder, and he frowned thoughtfully.
Well, it would help to have a way into the Curse Breakers immediately after graduation, without any prior experience in the field. The sooner he gained access to their logs, the sooner he might find a cure for Anne's curse, and it would feel good, being able to jump into a well-paying job and contribute to their funds quickly.
Plus, the Keeper's experiments with energies would mean a lot of work with goblin silver. If he knew how to forge and craft with said goblin silver, he'd be useful to them. They'd done so much for him... Sebastian would do anything for them, anything to be useful, to make them stronger.
“I accept.” Sebastian answered and Borgok grinned.
“Excellent, we can speak further of the details next weekend. Shall we say, nine in the evening?” The goblin nodded. “I'm afraid I can't stay much longer.”
“Sure.” Sebastian agreed, still a little dazed by all the surprises that tonight had had to offer.
“I look forward to receiving my pay.” The Keeper gave the goblin a small smile.
“Of course, till then.” Borgok tipped his head in farewell and lumbered off towards the doors.
After he'd been gone for a few moments, the Keeper laughed lightly. “What a turn of events.”
“No kidding.” Sebastian chuckled, slumping against the back of his chair. “Somehow, I feel pretty tired after all that.”
The Keeper laughed lightly and stood, offering him a hand. “Come on, let's go home then.”
Home.
Sebastian smiled, and took their hand without hesitation. “Yeah, let's go home.”
Notes:
The Keeper, as they kill Gnarlak: Your blood is on Ranrok's hands.
xDDD
Hemothorax is basically when you have pockets of blood in your lungs, which can be caused by blunt trauma, essentially minor internal bleeding which if given enough time can become a collapsed lung. An injured liver can be really bad too because of toxin build-up in the blood and cause feelings of exhaustion among other symptoms.
So, not nearly as serious as the Hogsmeade broom incident, but has the potential to be. Sebastian does manage to forget that pretty fast tho-
Also, Gnarlak’s means of controlling his army is actually a method used by criminal organisations to control their members in reality. Make a person addicted to a drug that only you can provide and bam, you have a desperate slave with no ego.
However, unfortunately for him, the Keeper essentially has an endless stock, since they can actually create Pain energy, so this isn't a weakness they have.
He also assumed that the Keeper would have become mentally corroded by Pain energy via over-consumption and drug abuse, like his own Loyalists. Just like Ranrok. Which they weren't because Sebastian and Ominis keep them from abusing the Pain drug.
I mean, if you put someone on a pedestal too hard, it can damage your overall logic. He began on the assumption that "if someone as strong as Ranrok can be corrupted by Pain, no one can resist it." And that made him vulnerable to underestimating the Keeper.
On the less extreme end, Sebastian also kinda puts MC on a pedestal and his game dialogue lines make it plain that he is very concerned with proving himself useful to them. The second of which is incredibly endearing imo x3
I find it rather irritating when people don't seem to understand that Sebastian isn't being manipulative when he tries to pressure MC to help Anne. If anything, it's pretty clear that he thinks MC is badass enough to do anything and everything if he can convince them to try and he just throws everything he's got at us, kid's just desperate xP
He's so adorably earnest despite all that, and I love his character so much for it- Ugh, he's so cute-
But ahem, anyway, cute as it may be in moderation, pedestals aren't a great place to put people, no one is perfect and thinking people are perfect can be dangerous in many ways. Sebastian still hasn't quite grown out of that, hard to blame him, when they are as OP as the game made them, and as I've worsened heh heh- but he's getting there, slowly xP
I also think it's reasonable to say that someone with good hand to eye coordination for the wand flicks of spell casting would have a steady hand for crafting as well. Well, hopefully, and I think Sebastian has the creativity, endurance, determination, and hard working attitude that would be suited to it as well, with the right motivation xP
Many thanks once again, to my Patreon, cheeky_idler, for naming Shai as a Paid member with voting & suggestion power! ;)
Ominis fought to control his expression, to keep his hands from trembling. Five years. Five years since he'd seen his parents, and this. This was the reason they'd given him the honour of their time? This was the reason they'd sought him out at Hogwarts?
The bitterness welling up within him was thick enough to gag on.
New year, new allies, new responsibilities, new avenues of revenue, and new aspects of their own Ancient Magic to explore. As the Keeper and their partners enter their last year at Hogwarts, it remains to be seen if the new school year will bring with it new problems or adversaries, but they are confident in the strength of their relationship with Sebastian and Ominis. The three of them would endure, no matter what befell them.
And if they were wrong?
What a joke, they would suffer no alternative.
Warnings: Sebastian x MC x Ominis! Drug Addiction! Spoilers! Slow-burn corruption! Dark content! Fucked up 1800s orphanages! MC has no love for Anne or Solomon! Dubious happy ending (it's happy for MC, Seb and Ominis at least).
You can also read on AO3! (chapter specific warnings below)
Notes:
Warnings: None! They’re all in the next chapter huehuehue
Yaaaaay, I love inventing lore that explains canon stuff, it's tiring but fun xD
Gosh, I can't believe I managed to finish this one on time, I'm so tired- I was so sure I'd end up skipping again, but somehow, I managed x'D
Unfortunately, my next two weeks are basically filled up and my partner's got a new and more time/energy consuming job, so I'll definitely have to skip an upload again, sorry!
“Natty and Poppy are late again?” Garreth asked, closing the door behind him and stepping further into the unused classroom, in which the group of seven normally gathered in for Natty’s Animagus lessons.
“Yeaaap, and so are you.” Sebastian muttered from where he lay, draped across the floor with his head in Ominis’ lap, the blond idly braiding a handful of his thick brown curls.
With a roll of his eyes, Garreth dropped onto the floor between Amit and the Keeper, who both had their noses buried in a book respectively.
“You planning to take up carpentry?” Garreth raised an eyebrow at the Keeper, after reading the title of their book.
“What? No?” The Keeper gave him a confused look.
“Then why are you reading a book on door designs?” He asked.
“Because, unlike Sebastian, I don't have an eidetic memory.” The Keeper answered, which evidently just confounded Garreth further and he looked to Amit for help.
As he did so, he caught a glimpse of Amit's book, along with its title, Rocket Travel Through Space, and did a double take. “Hold on, is that a muggle book?”
“Mhm.” Amit hummed absently. “Muggle understanding and observation of the cosmos is far behind us, but we don't have a way of actually going up there. Professor Shah says the Muggles want to, and I must say that I'm fairly impressed by their drive to solve the mysteries of the universe.”
“Isn't space empty and devoid of air?” Garreth asked. “Seems rather silly to think we'd be able to survive up there.”
Amit shot him an indignant look and was about to speak, when Sebastian snorted. “Can’t be as empty as your skull, devoid of critical thought. Nothing's impossible when enough people put their heads together to do it.”
Brightening at Sebastian's words, Amit nodded emphatically. “Exactly! We may not see it in our lifetime, but I believe that one day, our descendants may touch the celestial bodies in our twilight sky.”
“That's right.” The Keeper offered their agreement. “Nothing is over until you give up.”
“Or you die.” Ominis huffed as he finished his braiding and tied a small rubber band around the ends of Sebastian's hair.
“Everyone dies eventually.” Sebastian shook his head, the short braid sticking out of his hair bouncing with every movement. “I think it's better to live life doing your best and maybe go out with something to leave behind, don't you?”
“...I suppose I can't really argue when you put it that way.” Ominis grudgingly relented with a sigh. “Just as long as it's not too early.”
Looking quite put off that Sebastian had won the popular vote in the room and drawn all the attention, Garreth decided to change the subject. “Speaking of not being early, is it just me or have Poppy and Natty been arriving late for pretty much everything?”
The Keeper blinked. “I suppose so, now that you mention it.”
“What's the rush? It's not like we have anything to do while waiting for a lightning storm.” Amit shrugged, jabbing a thumb at the Keeper. “We're just here cheering this one on.”
“I feel much cheer.” The Keeper stated accordingly, managing to tickle a chuckle out of Ominis with the flatness of their tone.
“Yeah yeah, but do you guys think they're dating?” Garreth grinned, looking more excited than the Keeper felt was warranted. “I saw Poppy and Natty holding hands in Hogsmeade last Sunday.”
“I wouldn’t be surprised.” Amit shrugged again. “They've been awfully close since last year.”
“It would be nice if they were.” The Keeper murmured, they weren't exactly guilty about it, but they'd be happy if Poppy were pursuing someone who could, and would, actually reciprocate her feelings.
Before anyone else could further speculate, the door opened to admit Poppy and Natty, the latter of whom wore an apologetic smile as she spoke. “My apologies for the wait.”
The girls were breathing heavily, and at that, Garreth's grin became suggestive. “What were you guys doing?”
Amit immediately lobbed his book at Garreth, while Ominis gave them a smile. “It's quite alright, it's not even been half an hour.”
Giving the blind boy a grateful smile, Poppy then noticed that Ominis was wearing his scarf, which he only wore indoors when-
“Oh! Are the twins with you?” Poppy shuffled over quickly and kneeled beside Ominis.
With a chuckle, he hissed softly, and the sound was followed by more hisses, before two little heads wiggled out from under his scarf to peer at Poppy.
“Hello little ones!” Poppy greeted enthusiastically, reaching out to scratch under the snakes’ jaws.
The Keeper watched fondly, it was nice that their friends had been receptive when told that Ominis was a parselmouth and had been quite welcoming towards the twin snakes. Poppy had been delighted as expected, and Natty had regarded the girls like any other familiar of a Hogwarts student, which Ominis seemed to appreciate.
While Amit had been slightly uneasy around the snakes, he'd warmed up to them after a few weeks, and Garreth had been near green with envy that Ominis had a rare two headed pet. Not that the Gryffindor wanted snakes for a familiar, mind you, but the idea of having something so rare was apparently its own reward.
“Do you mind if we begin?” The Keeper asked Natty, as they put away their book and stood. “I have somewhere to be, after our lesson.”
“Of course.” Natty nodded with a wry smile. “It's my fault we're starting late after all.”
Drawing their wand, the Keeper flipped the stick and offered it to Ominis by the handle, entrusting their most faithful companion to him for safekeeping.
Natty had explained, during their first lesson, that the bond between wizardkind and the wand that chose them, could allow the wand to aid them as long as it was near them. So, every time they started their wandless lesson, they would pass it to one of their partners.
As much as they loved their wand, the Keeper was more eager to no longer be reliant upon it.
Leaving the group huddled on the floor, chatting on one end of the classroom, the Keeper joined Natty on the other.
“Have you been meditating?” Natty asked as they came to stand by her side.
“Yes.” The Keeper nodded, it had been easy to work that in, in place of their occlumency meditation.
“Shall we see if you've made any progress?” Natty asked with a smile, laying out a miniature Summoner's Court across the floor. “Remember, let it flow like the ocean's waves cresting against the shore.”
Taking a deep breath, the Keeper raised their hand towards a ball and closed their eyes. Trying to visualise the beach to the west of Dìon, the ebbing rhythm of water splitting around rocks and crashing against the cliffside.
“Accio.” The Keeper opened their eyes and made a grabbing motion. Only for the ball to roll to them with about the same energy as it would if someone had walked past and accidentally caught it on the corner of their shoe.
“Hm.” Natty folded her arms thoughtfully. “The fact that you're able to move it at all, means you have the capacity to cast wandless magic. But it almost feels like you're fighting your instinct.”
“Instinct.” The Keeper echoed flatly, wondering what exactly she meant, the word was so broad that it could mean anything from inborn physical reflexes to conditioned responses.
“That's right, you're cutting off your magic output halfway, rather than regulating it. Controlling something to keep its flow regulated and at a constant pace, is not the same as controlling something by suppressing it entirely.” Natty explained.
“I’m not sure I understand the difference.” The Keeper frowned. “How does it feel to do the former?”
“Well, you need to relax and go with the flow. Be one with it and accept those feelings in the same manner as you would your place as a part of the world.” Natty waved her hands to illustrate. “Let the harmony and peace of nature flow through you.”
The Keeper stared at her, absolutely none of that made sense. What was harmonic about nature? Where was the peace in territorial disputes, or the predatory nature of the animal kingdom? Animal hierarchy was constantly thrown into chaos from within, in power struggles, just like human organisations.
Speaking of humans, every human being was consuming someone else's resources just by existing. Animals, insects, and plants displaced by agricultural and animal farms, spreading like a virus, pouring lead and smoke into the world. Growing up in the smog choked slums of London and then being introduced to the Scottish Highlands was still something their mind struggled with.
Only the rich could pretend that the glorious Soot London wasn't a cesspit. Beside the Black Lake or Dìon's rivers, the disgusting River Thames bore no comparison. It felt more akin to two separate worlds that the Keeper couldn't reconcile, villages that looked right out of a storybook had no place beside the starless city they'd grown up in.
For that was the nature they knew.
After a few long moments, the Keeper sighed and decided to speak plainly. “Sorry, I have more experience with human nature than nature.”
Their grimace made it clear their opinion of said human nature, and Natty gave them a sympathetic smile. “Ah, I suppose you haven't seen much that's peaceful among people.”
The Keeper smiled with some relief, it was nice to have friends here who understood their perspective, having also suffered the cruelty of men like Harlow. The more fortunate kids in the school wouldn't understand, and the Keeper would be lying if they said it wasn't a bit of a drain, being an outsider purely due to having different lived experiences.
“In nature, in natural life, there's a flow. One that you could perhaps compare to a circle, a cycle without beginning or end.” Natty explained.
The Keeper frowned and folded their arms. “What circle? I thought life was more like a line. You're born, you live, and then you die.”
“Well, from death comes new life. The bodies of the dead go on to nourish the earth, and then the earth nourishes plants. The plants nourish animals, the animals nourish the earth with their bodies, and so the cycle continues.” Natty elaborated patiently.
The Keeper, on the other hand, wasn't quite as patient and they frowned. “Then what of the coal we burn and the poisons we throw into the Thames. Does humanity then not simply break the circle?”
Natty folded her arms. “Well, I suppose many do, but I refer then, to nature without humanity’s interference. One where all instinctively know and have a place.”
“I suppose that is where I struggle with understanding your idea of nature. In my experience, following your instinct is more likely to get you killed and one's place depends more on money and power, rather than being something naturally occurring.” The Keeper sighed.
Following their instincts and fighting back rather than submitting, would have led to their death a thousand times over after all, and reacting instinctively when someone came up behind them would quickly become a problem in Hogwarts. After all these years of supressing their first reactions, releasing the tight restraints on their emotions and reactions was almost unimaginable.
Yet, ever since Fig showed up before them, the word ‘unimaginable’ ceased to have meaning.
Nothing was impossible. If a street rat like them could become as powerful as they already were, anything and everything else was within reach.
The Keeper gave Natty a determined nod. “But, very well. I shall try.”
Natty patted them on the shoulder encouragingly and the Keeper raised their hand towards the ball again, struggling to allow their thoughts to go where they will, led by their feelings. They thought of moving the ball, of the amount of effort they'd been putting into this whole wandless exercise, alongside everything else they'd been struggling to keep up with.
Of how little time they'd had to rest between classes, homework and lessons from Rackham. How anxious they were, over whether they could trust Owl and Alasdair or not. Whether Shai would be a danger to them as the dragon grew older and more uncontrollable, if they would find a way to coexist with a territorial dragon on their land.
After everything they'd overcome, by Merlin, they would have this goddamn inanimate little ball submit to them too.
“Accio.” The Keeper’s eyes narrowed, and cast.
Immediately the ball flew... off to the side, slammed into the wall, bounced off it, and sailed across the room.
The Keeper felt their skin prickle, as five pairs of eyes followed the rolling ball for a few moments, before drifting up to them. The urge to storm across the room, grab, and flatten the ball, was quickly smothered and the Keeper sighed.
“Perhaps we should take a break.” Natty placed a comforting hand on their shoulder.
The Keeper wanted to protest, wanted to insist on continuing until they'd mastered this bloody ball, but they knew how it would make them look to her, and to the others.
So, they nodded and began crossing the room back towards their friends. “Sure.”
“It's natural to be frustrated.” Natty reassured as she fell in stride with them.
Her words were doubtless meant to assuage, but only served to fan their frustration. Perhaps there was a tad too much anger ever boiling under their skin, for them to allow it to run free like the other teenagers did. To have an ability that their own nature prevented them from mastering, was probably the most bitter irony that the Keeper had yet tasted.
“Most children, just starting to learn magic in Uagadou, struggle to control their output while they’re still young, especially when they're upset, since it relies on emotional regulation.” Natty murmured thoughtfully and the Keeper fought to keep the scowl from their face.
In other words, they had about as much skill in emotional regulation as a child. Great.
“But they don't usually have problems exerting magic once they understand the spells, unless they've gotten accustomed to using a wand as a crutch, like the British do." Natty continued as she sat back down on the floor.
“That makes sense. Wands help us to channel our magic, drawing it out of our bodies and using our movements to regulate the amount of magic released, while the spell incantation focuses the cast. Wands, thereby reduce the effort taken to cast magic.” Amit tapped a finger on his jaw thoughtfully.
"Exactly. Since witches and wizards here don't practice exercising that part of their magical core while it's growing in childhood, they lose the ability to regulate their magic and can't cast wandless magic as adults." Natty explained. "Unless they become skilled enough in later life, where they might be able to learn the ability with more effort."
“But if our friend can’t regulate magic on their own, wouldn’t that put them in the same boat as we who grew up with wands?” Amit frowned, folding his arms. "Yet they seem to have limited success with wandless magic."
“Well, maybe their core is still flexible enough to learn it because they only discovered and began to learn magic three years ago, at fifteen rather than eleven.” Natty gave a helpless smile. "Perhaps their unique situation is throwing off all the norms."
“I love being weird enough that nobody has an easy solution for me.” The Keeper muttered dryly, leaning against a nearby desk with their arms folded, and Sebastian left his spot beside Ominis to sit on said desk, in a silent show of support.
“How'd you even realise you could still do wandless anyway?” Garreth wondered aloud. “Last time I even remember casting accidental magic was-”
He paused for a few long moments, before scratching the back of his head. “On second thought, I think I'll keep that to myself.”
“For shame.” Sebastian sighed in disappointment, leaning his shoulder against the Keeper's. “But I think most of us haven't cast accidental magic since we got our wands and it's always uncontrollable too, unlike yours.”
Sebastian’s eyes were clear and confident. “We may not be able to explain it, but you’re able to do it and that means there’s a way to control it. We just need to figure it out.”
The Keeper gave him a grateful smile, somehow, they felt a little better, knowing that he wasn’t discouraged by their slow progress. Turning back to face Garreth, the Keeper decided to answer his question while keeping it as vague as possible. “My first cast was over the summer, I didn't have my wand at hand, and both Sebastian and Ominis were in danger, so I cast a Protego charm to cover them.”
“It was a perfect cast too.” Ominis smiled with pride from his spot on the floor beside Poppy.
“Oh, that's so sweet.” Poppy giggled and the Keeper felt their eyes automatically avert, their cheeks warming slightly.
“Wow, don't think I've ever seen you blush.” Sebastian whispered into their ear with an audible grin, and the Keeper pressed a hand to his face to push him away. Now they knew why Ominis was always doing that.
“Protecting, huh.” Garreth mused thoughtfully, before fishing something silver and reflective from his pocket, casually calling out. “Hey, Ominis, catch this knife.”
With that, Garreth tossed the silver object at Ominis, like one would a dart, to alarmed exclamations around the room.
Immediately, the Keeper raised a hand and shouted. “Protego!”
A shield formed around Ominis, and the silver object hit the magical barrier, glancing off it and clattering to the floor.
“Well, that confirms it. You just need the right motivation.” Garreth commented blithely, before flinching when his eyes met the Keeper’s murderous glare.
The next thing he knew, he was being lifted off the chair by his lapels and a furious Sebastian in his face. “What the fuck do you think you're doing, Weasley!?”
“Gah!” Garreth grabbed Sebastian's wrists for balance as he got his feet under him, and cried. “Spoon! A spoon! It was a bloody spoon!”
Sebastian paused and the others began to search the floor for the silver object.
A moment later, Poppy was raising a silver spoon in the air. “Found it! Looks like it is actually a spoon.”
“Course it is!” Garreth exclaimed, glaring at Sebastian. “Now, unhand me, you barbarian.”
Dutifully, Sebastian released Garreth, and the redhead smoothed his robes out in an indignant huff. “Merlin's beard, I can't believe you lot thought I'd throw a knife at Ominis.”
“Well, we wouldn't put it past you.” Amit commented dryly.
“Bah, here I am getting us actual progress, and this is the thanks I get.” Garreth scoffed.
“Well, you didn't need to do such a thing! You could have just declared your theory.” Natty exclaimed, looking almost as angry as Sebastian had been, and the Keeper belatedly realised that she was standing halfway to Poppy's side.
Had she been worried about Poppy? The Hufflepuff was sitting right beside Ominis, so they supposed it was a reasonable concern.
“Yeah, but then I wouldn’t have had the element of surprise to test it.” Garreth shrugged and the Keeper shot him another glare.
Before they could say anything however, Ominis plucked the spoon from Poppy's hand and lobbed it at Garreth.
“Hey!” The redhead protested when the spoon clocked him square in his fluffy mane of hair, looking rather bewildered by the accuracy of Ominis’ aim.
“There. We're even.” Ominis stated simply and the Keeper couldn't help but smile fondly as the tension in the room tangibly lowered. Well, if Ominis wanted them to drop the issue...
Turning to the Keeper, Poppy suggested. “Perhaps you focus better when you've got a clear goal and something you care about a lot.”
Natty nodded in agreement. “It could be that you’re able to connect with your magic more smoothly and naturally, when all of you is in agreement on what you are trying to do. In other words, without hesitation.”
“Possibly. The shield charm makes sense then.” The Keeper hummed thoughtfully, that reminded them of the conclusion they'd come to with Rackham, regarding how they best wielded Ancient Magic. Objectives and passion. Intent and intensity. Perhaps in this area, their tendency to consider repercussions and plan with caution was the thing hindering them.
“Toss me the ball, Natty?” The Keeper asked while Sebastian went to sit beside Ominis.
With a curious glance, she nodded and stretched her hand towards the ball still chilling on the floor in the corner. “Accio.”
The ball shot into her hand and she tossed it to the Keeper lightly.
As it sailed through the air, the Keeper imagined that it was a boulder being hurled at them by one of Ranrok's trolls.
I refuse to die here!
They raised their hand towards it. “Protego!”
The familiar shield shimmered into being around their palm and the light ball easily bounced off it, rolling once more off into a corner.
The Keeper lowered their hand as the shield flickered and vanished, huh. Weaker, but it’d still worked.
“Well, at least that's something I can work with.” They nodded firmly.
“You're welcome. Don't sweat it, all in a day's work for the Garreth Weasley.” Garreth brushed a hand through his ginger locks with a smug grin.
Natty gave him a glare that easily matched Sebastian's intensity, folding her arms grudgingly. “I will admit, I suppose, that that's more progress than I've made with them for a month.”
“Well, I appreciate the effort anyway.” The Keeper smiled wryly. “I've given up after less.”
“Liar.” Sebastian snorted, getting an elbow between the ribs from Ominis, and a round of laughter that rippled through the group.
“And I appreciate the well-meant lie.” Natty chuckled, patting the Keeper on the shoulder, as she called the ball back into her hand and chucked it at Garreth.
“Hey! What am I, the new Townsquare dartboard?” Garreth complained as he ducked.
“You started it, so you don’t get to complain.” Sebastian rolled his eyes.
Shaking their head, the Keeper strode over to Ominis’ side to collect their wand and playfully give Sebastian's braid a flick. “Alright, have fun playing darts guys. I've got to get going. I'm already running late.”
“See you tomorrow.” Ominis gave them a resigned smile.
“See you!” Poppy waved as Natty went to sit by her side and the Keeper left the room quickly.
“Ah, there you are, Salamander.” Alasdair's voice drew the Keeper's attention as they scanned the pub for Owl, who was noticeably absent, despite it almost being ten.
Raising their eyebrow in question, the Keeper approached the bar counter. This was the first time the guildmaster had specifically called them over, rather than them going to him.
“There's someone who wants to speak with you.” Alasdair explained, gesturing towards a man sitting at a table near the door. “His name is Vesper. He was the last Hunter to attempt Borgok's bounty and the only survivor aside from Faun.”
The Keeper blinked in surprise. They'd been hoping to speak with the second survivor, but what reason would he have to speak with them? Well, Owl still wasn't here, so they supposed they could speak with this Hunter first.
“Alright- and send a glass of that chocolate drink over for me when you can, thanks.” The Keeper nodded.
“Sure.” Alasdair smiled and began mixing as they made their way over to Vesper’s table.
The man was rather unassuming in appearance, middle-aged, but where Owl looked like he was in his late thirties, this hunter looked closer to fifty. He bore a scraggy beard and a faint scar that stretched from brow to jaw. Blue eyes followed them warily from under the rim of a derby hat as they approached, his brown hair hanging low in a loose ponytail.
“Alasdair says you wanted to speak with me.” The Keeper said by way of greeting.
“You're-” The man's eyes widened with surprise, and he scanned the Keeper from head to toe, before grimacing and folding his arms, muttering to himself quietly. “I suppose I don't have anything to lose.”
The Keeper cocked an eyebrow as he gestured to the seat across from him in invitation. “Take a seat, I don't have much time tonight.”
“I'll cut to the chase.” Vesper stated simply when they were seated. “I'd like to offer you vital information on Gnarlak, in exchange for a favour.”
Well, that was convenient, the Keeper folded their arms. “What do you want for it?”
“Gnarlak took my wand, and my hand with it.” The man grimaced, left hand releasing his mug to roll up his right sleeve, flashing them a silver prosthetic that extended under his glove. “I want my wand back if you manage to kill him.”
“If the wand is still intact and in his possession, I will.” The Keeper nodded, ignoring the scepticism in his last few words. They needn't do anything about it, their success alone would correct everyone who underestimated them for their age. “So, tell me what vital information you have.”
“Gnarlak is sharp, I tried to kill him when he was outside his base and didn't realise he’d caught on that he was being shadowed. Bastard led me right into a trap.” Vesper paused momentarily when Svet stopped by to drop off the Keeper’s drink. “I don't know how or when the goblin realised he was being followed, but he was certainly prepared for that scenario.”
The Keeper frowned, eyes lingering on Svet as she left the table none the wiser. Owl was late, and in light of this information, perhaps that was more cause for concern than it had been a minute ago.
“Where was the trap you fell into and what type of trap was it?” The Keeper shifted their drink to the side and placed their map on the table.
“It was just under this ridge.” The man pointed at a spot on the map and the Keeper noted it down. “I followed him into an underground tunnel, only to have the way I came barred by goblin metal.”
Vesper grimaced. “There was something in the tunnel, a large beast of some sort, from the sound of it. Gnarlak, the sick bastard taunted me from outside, telling me that the switch to open the exit was within a hole in the wall, before leaving me to die. The switch was too deep inside the opening to reach, and my magic wouldn't work on it, so I was forced to stick my hand and wand into the crevice to press it.”
“And it closed on your wrist.” The Keeper filled in dryly.
“That it did.” The man rubbed at his right wrist, as though the limb replaced by the prosthetic still hurt. “Like a bear trap, jaws tight and firm clamped around my wrist. The gate opened and freedom lay beside me. I heard the creature roar, and I knew death awaited me if I hesitated, so I cut my hand off and fled.”
“I don't expect that he simply let you go.” The Keeper murmured dryly.
“He certainly tried to stop me, but unlike his Loyalists, he doesn't seem to be much of a combat soldier himself.” Vesper shook his head. “Even bleeding and bereft of my wand, I managed to evade his axe swings and arrows.”
The Keeper hummed thoughtfully, perhaps that was why Gnarlak allowed a double to be killed just so he could have a clean strike at Faun, and even then, he failed to kill her. Still, why would the goblin dangle before the man, a means to escape? Did he think the Hunter wouldn't cut his own limb off? Was it sick pleasure? Or had he always wanted the wand undamaged with no care for the Hunter himself?
“How'd you get away?” The Keeper asked and he raised an incredulous eyebrow in response. They shrugged, well it was worth a shot.
“I got a second wand easily enough, but there's nothing like the wand that first chose you.” The man shook his head with a sigh. “I've decided to retire from Mercenary work and if I can get my wand back, that'll be enough.”
“I see.” The Keeper nodded, well, after an injury like that, it wasn't a bad point to quit. “I'll try to find it.”
“Alright, that's all I've got for you.” Vesper took his mug and finished the last of his drink. “If there's nothing else, I have places to be.”
“Thanks for the information.” The Keeper nodded absently as the man stood.
“Good luck.” Vesper tipped his hat in farewell and left the pub, the heavy-footed man’s cloak billowing behind him as he did.
Glancing at the clock, the Keeper frowned, tapping their fingernails against the side of their fountain glass. It was already halfway to eleven and Owl still hadn't shown up. Perhaps they'd wait for a bit longer and speak with Alasdair if Owl didn’t appear.
If he'd gotten caught in that trap...
Did they care enough to try and rescue the man if he were in danger? They didn't know what creature lay within the tunnel, would Owl even survive long enough to be rescued?
The Keeper barely knew him, the affable man had made it clear that he had kids at least, and Svet seemed to have feelings for him, but beyond that, they were barely acquaintances. He was just a hire. How much guilt should they feel if someone died on their account? That was probably something they should figure out before the need to respond arose.
Minutes passed while the Keeper sipped from their glass, letting the ice melt on their tongue as they pondered this, and the clock turned eleven a few moments before a familiar lanky man tumbled through the pub doors.
Well, that solved that.
“Hey, kid!” Owl beamed as he spotted the Keeper seated just a few steps away, and lumbered over to drop into the seat Vesper had vacated. “Sorry for being late!”
“Nice to see you aren't dead.” The Keeper stated evenly, and quite honestly. Made things less complicated. “Thought Gnarlak might have noticed you.”
“Oh, he did. Several times actually.” Owl chuckled. “Sharp one, that goblin, slippery too. Got held up dragging my arse out of a quagmire a few hours ago, had to drop by my house for a change of clothes.”
“A quagmire.” The Keeper frowned, that wasn't what Vesper had described. Had Gnarlak found it too difficult to lure Owl into a trap to capture him, and went for something that would kill him instead? “That means he has multiple trap locations.”
“Oh?” The man tilted his head curiously and the Keeper spent the next few minutes relaying to him what they'd learnt from the Hunter.
“Hm.” Owl folded his arms. “That complicates things. It took me a week just to succeed in tailing him all the way to a trap, if he has several and knows the area well...”
He closed his eyes thoughtfully. “In that case, rather than finding you a predictable route, during which you can... get him, it might be safer for you to lie in wait for him at his destination.”
The Keeper nodded. “If I clear it out in advance, I can corner him.”
Opening his eyes, Owl gave them a tired smile. “I'll have to use intermittent surveillance then.”
They tilted their head to the side in confusion and he elaborated with a sigh. “Basically, I’ll follow Gnarlak as far as I can, then wait at the last spot I saw him. When he comes that way the next time, I'll keep trailing him, gradually pushing further each time, until I finally discover his destination.”
“Sounds like that will take a while.” The Keeper frowned.
“Yeap.” Owl paused, his eyes lowering almost nervously for a moment, before regarding the Keeper with an uncomfortably earnest and burning intensity. “I hope you don't take this the wrong way, it's kind of what I do, so I couldn't quite help myself. I mean, it was not entirely intentional, some of it was easily accessible public knowledge and I will admit that I wanted to, but I will understand if you take issue with what I've done. I still would like you to know that I don't mean to-”
“What did you do?” The Keeper interjected, since the man seemed to be going off the rails.
He took a deep breath, before speaking in a rush. “I looked you up.”
The Keeper stared at him blankly. “And?”
“I learnt that you only joined Hogwarts in fifth-year. That you defeated Ranrok, Rookwood and Harlow during that year. And that you are an orphan who's currently living with two boys in...” Owl covered the sides of his face and mouthed the name ‘Feldcroft’, before biting his lip. “Look, I'm sorry for invading your privacy, and I know that as a teenager on the cusp of adulthood, that privacy is very important, but-”
“It's fine.” The Keeper raised a hand to halt the tirade of senseless babble falling from his gob. “I expected no less from an information broker.”
“Nooooo!” Owl wailed mournfully, grabbing his head between his hands and the Keeper nearly leapt from their seat in alarm. “I've disappointed you! I'm so sorry!”
“You what?” The Keeper stared at the messy brown fluff on his head warily and in complete confusion. This man made absolutely no sense.
“Please! I swear, I just wanted to understand you better! Give me another chance!” Owl lifted his head and for the first time, the Keeper realised that his watery eyes were a light green with yellow speckles.
How'd it take them this long to notice his eye colour? Maybe he truly was a genius spy, somehow managing to make his features less noticeable and forgettable. Heck, they hadn't noticed that he had freckles either! Not nearly as many as Sebastian's, just a light dusting over his nose.
“...come again?” The Keeper asked flatly after a moment, realising that they hadn't responded for some time and had barely understood what he said.
“I just wanted to understand you, why you are going after Gnarlak.” Owl sighed. “I know you've already defeated one goblin rebellion leader, but why are you going after another? Is it... do you hate goblins because of Ranrok?”
The man seemed quite worried about the last sentence being true, and the Keeper shook their head. “No, I do not hate goblins. That's not why I'm going after Gnarlak.”
“Then why?” Owl asked and the Keeper sighed.
How much were they willing to tell him? Honestly, they had a feeling that it would be good to remain in this man's favour. He'd managed to dance out of a trap made by a target who'd killed several experienced hunters and severely injured a veteran. Even if Owl wasn't a fighter, he was clearly formidable and the fact that he'd even discovered where the Keeper was living was rather unsettling.
It'd probably be best to tread carefully with the man and be honest where they could, if they wanted this working relationship to last. They would try to give him reasons that, someone as sentimental as he seemed to be, would accept.
“I was friends with Lodgok, the younger brother of Ranrok.” The Keeper sighed, picking at this wound again, the blood has barely dried. “He died for me at Ranrok's hand, like my mentor. Both of them desired peace between wizardkind and goblinkind.”
“Your mentor?” Owl asked. “A wizard or witch, I’m assuming.”
“Yes, the Professor who freed me from the workhouses.” The Keeper nodded. “Borgok asked me to help him protect the peace that Lodgok and Fig died for.”
“I see.” Owl gave them a pained smile. “But, surely you don't have to be the hand that does the job? You're too young to risk such danger. You have so much ahead of you.”
The Keeper snorted lightly. “I'm reasonably confident in my combat capabilities. And seventeen isn't too young to die, where I’m from.”
“Well, it should be too young!” Owl shook his head, voice strained with passion, and they didn't doubt that he meant it.
“Maybe.” The Keeper conceded, slightly frustrated that that hadn’t been enough to convince him, and they set their elbows on the table. “But it has to be me. Borgok offered me something I want that I can get from nowhere else.”
“What did he offer?” Owl's eyes narrowed and the Keeper could feel a surprisingly icy anger in his voice.
“I'm afraid that's more than I'm willing to share.” The Keeper shook their head, and a pinched frustration tightened his lips for a split second, so fleeting that they wondered if it had been a mere trick of the light.
“I understand.” Owl's eyes were sad as he nodded in acceptance. “Thank you, for telling me this much.”
It was only as the Keeper watched the lanky man stroll out of the pub with his hands in his pockets, minutes later, that it struck them.
They'd just given Owl far more information on themselves than he needed.
“Together they set off back to the wizard's house, the pot's footstep muffled at last. But from that day forward, the wizard helped the villagers like his father before him, lest the pot cast off its slipper, and begin to hop once more.” The soft, steady sound of snores followed the end of his tale and Ominis lifted his finger from the paper, closing the small book in his lap.
“Wouldn't it have been more apt for the wizard's father to have cursed his son instead, to experience the suffering of others whom he didn't aid, rather than simply have the pot nag him?” The Keeper frowned, their voice low and hushed amidst the gentle sound of logs cracking in the wood stove just a few steps from where the throuple were seated on the kitchen floor.
“Does it matter?” Ominis raised an eyebrow, his voice equally quiet. “It got the wizard to be kinder and do his utmost to aid his neighbours.”
“But that's not empathy, that's simply fear. Should something happen to the pot, the wizard wouldn't continue to do his father's bidding.” The Keeper countered. “And it doesn't sound like the wizard, or his father were receiving payment for their services. In fact, I think it's quite reasonable for the son to have not wanted to continue his father's charity work without some sort of return. It's not sustainable.”
“Darling, it's a child's tale.” Ominis’ expression was equal parts exasperated and fond.
“Surely that doesn't give the writer leave to create a scenario that is needlessly inconsistent.” The Keeper insisted with a frustrated expression. “If you were going to invent a type of magic that can reflect the ailments of people on a pot, why would you stop ther-”
A burst of sparks interrupted the Keeper, followed by a long string of curses and expletives from Sebastian as he frantically beat the fire off his sleeve, struggling to do so without displacing the small dragon curled up in his lap.
“Sebastian.” Ominis’ tone was chiding.
The brunet shot him an annoyed glare, hissing back a quiet. “Hey, you're not the one being repeatedly set on fire just because this little-”
“Sebastian.” Ominis' tone was threatening now.
“...this little angel.” Sebastian bit out grudgingly. “Doesn't want to sleep in its bed.”
“Don't be such a baby, it can't be worse than what we gave ourselves while practising Confringo.” Ominis rolled his eyes.
“You haven't even checked!” Sebastian protested indignantly, it wasn't like Ominis could discern his condition with a glance.
Taking out his wand, Ominis bopped Sebastian on the head with it, incanting flatly. “Diagnosa.”
“Hey!” Sebastian recoiled from the wooden stick assaulting him, which unfortunately, jostled the dragon and Shai promptly sank its claws through the cloth and into his legs to stabilise itself. “Gah!”
Another series of vulgarities spewed from Sebastian's mouth and the Keeper couldn't quite stop themselves from laughing, even as they reached forward to help him remove the dragon's claws from his thigh.
“Oh, you poor thing.” The Keeper consoled through their snickers, while Ominis quickly passed him a vial of wiggenweld.
“Me or the dragon!?” Sebastian exclaimed with a sulky expression, before knocking back the green potion.
“You, of course.” The Keeper flashed him a fond smile, carefully removing Shai's claws from his skin, while Ominis patted and soothed the little dragon with soft cooing.
Fortunately, despite the disruption, Shai seemed to have gotten sleepy enough, because its jaws spread wide in a squeaky little yawn, and it readily curled back up again to sleep. Seeing this, Sebastian passed the Keeper the empty potion vial, before scooping up the dragon, towel and all, and gently laid it on the heated slate that was Shai's bed.
“Finally.” Sebastian sighed as he stood, stretching to loosen the tightness that had gathered in his back after sitting stiffly on the floor. “Ugh, maybe we should put some cushions in here.”
“I'm sure Shai appreciates your sacrifice.” Ominis patted Sebastian on the shoulder with a wry smile.
“It better.” Sebastian grumbled, before shaking his head. “Well, at least now that the little monster is asleep, we can get to that.”
He flashed the Keeper an eager grin, which they returned, while Ominis tilted his head to the side in confusion and curiously asked. “That?”
“Just a little something Sebastian and I have been working on for you.” The Keeper chuckled, reaching out to take Ominis’ hand and began leading him out of the kitchen. “Come on.”
“For me?” Ominis echoed with a bemused expression as he and Sebastian followed them through the dining room and up the spiral staircase to the first floor, the evening light streaming in through the windows.
Eventually they came to a stop in front of the room that was to be Ominis’ study, and he was surprised to see, with his wand, that in the entryway now lay what was clearly a door.
“Tadaaaa.” Sebastian beamed and waved a hand at the elegant mahogany door. “We made you a door!”
Ominis blinked twice, looking like he was struggling to find a way to express how unexpectedly underwhelming that revelation was, without hurting their feelings, and the Keeper chuckled.
“I crafted it with Ancient Magic, while Sebastian sculpted the panelling and moulding.” The Keeper explained with a smile. “Try opening it.”
With renewed curiosity, Ominis examined the door more closely and found, to his confusion, that it bore no handle. Reaching forward to touch the door, he felt under his fingers, a firm and smooth polished texture, and intricate patterns that raised the door's surface.
“You made these, Sebastian?” Ominis asked, sounding quite impressed, and Sebastian visibly puffed up with pride.
“I did indeed, piece of cake really.” Sebastian attempted to play it off.
“Don't listen to him, he spent hours working on it, and a good thing too, because I apparently wouldn't be able to craft something pretty to save my life.” The Keeper readily admitted, and Sebastian narrowed his eyes at them with a smirk that said oh yeah?
“This one, spends weeks staring at all the gorgeous doors of Hogwarts, and comes out with no more than a plain, flat slab of wood to show for it.” Sebastian snickered, leaning an arm on the Keeper's shoulder. “I simply couldn't abandon them.”
The Keeper huffed and pressed the brunet's hair down over his eyes in return, to laughing protests.
Ominis gave a soft chuckle and a shake of the head, continuing to examine the door for a minute more, before giving up and raising his hands. “Alright, tell me how it works.”
“It's yours, so I designed it such that it would only give way to you, to your word. In the tongue only you can speak.” The Keeper smiled and Ominis’ eyes widened as their meaning dawned on him.
“But that means...” Ominis murmured.
“This is your home. And Home should always be somewhere that you feel safe.” The Keeper took Ominis’ hands in theirs. “Like the father in the Hopping Pot's tale, we give this to you, a place where you can be safe from any and everyone.”
“Including us.” Sebastian added.
The Keeper nodded, smiling softly as they caressed Ominis’ cheek and continued. “In the fond hope, my love, that you will never need it.”
Moisture began to gather in Ominis’ eyes and the Keeper could only wonder as to what was happening behind those pale orbs, more beautiful and treasured than the pearls decorating the Queen's crown.
It was undeniably scary, the idea of what Ominis might hide behind the door that they'd created for him, from them, but that fear paled in comparison to the desire to give him this. Safety and privacy. Something the Keeper understood the significance of. Something they too had been denied.
Though the knowledge that some day they may come to regret this, if and when Ominis closed himself inside and their own kindness barred their way through to him, would no doubt haunt their every night. The Keeper could not find it in themselves to regret this decision.
Perhaps it was counterintuitive, but every part of them felt like this was the right thing to do. They loved him after all, and they wanted his happiness more than anything. There were so many things they couldn't do for him. They couldn't take away the stigma his family name had given him in the public eye, they couldn't make his family love him the way they did, and they couldn't take away his fear.
So, they would give him what they could and hope that it would be enough.
“I- are you sure?” Ominis asked, his voice hoarse and choked, barely audible as it cracked with emotion.
Instead of the Keeper, it was Sebastian who answered, his expression thoughtful. “I don't think either of us would pretend to understand all your fears and worries, but if we can give you some peace of mind, that would be enough.”
The tears welling up in Ominis’ eyes spilled down his cheeks as a shaky smile formed on his face and the Keeper found that smile reflected on theirs, at the knowledge that Sebastian's feelings were so aligned with their own.
“Tha- thank you.” Ominis finally choked out after a few failed attempts, swallowing thickly to clear his throat and brushing the cuff of his sleeve over his eyes.
“Hey, I thought a gentleman was always prepared.” Sebastian grinned playfully and Ominis swatted at him with a watery laugh.
“Well, I left my handkerchief in my coat's sleeve downstairs.” The blond sniffed.
“So, that's where you were keeping it.” Sebastian snickered.
Ominis shook his head helplessly, and turned to face the door once again, placing a hand on its smooth surface, he hissed softly. “Open.”
A second later, a slight vibration ran through the wood at his fingertips and the resistance under his palm gave way, allowing him to push the door open smoothly and soundlessly.
“If you tell it to, it will also cloak itself in an illusion that makes it look like part of the wall.” The Keeper added. “It's a light-based illusion, so it'll only be visible to your wand sight.”
Ominis gave them a fond smile. “Exactly how secretive do you think I'll need my study to be?”
“Well, better to have too many options than too few, right?” The Keeper shrugged.
“The Chamber of Secrets holds a monster supposedly.” A small smile, equal parts amused and bitter lay on Ominis’ lips. “If someone manages to open this, centuries in the future, I'm sure they'll be rather disappointed by how boring it'll be inside.”
The Keeper smiled softly, how like Ominis, to declare that he would hide nothing of note from them, in such a roundabout manner.
“I'm sure we can get you a monster to hide in here, if you want.” Sebastian quipped, wrapping his arms loosely around Ominis’ waist from behind and resting his head against the blond's.
“Yeah, like this one.” The Keeper jabbed a thumb in Sebastian's direction.
“Why not, I'm sure I can be your monster in bed.” Sebastian purred into Ominis’ ear while giving the Keeper a wink.
“Sebastian!”
“Hang on. You're not bringing me to the fight against Gnarlak?”
“Correct.”
“Why!? What happened to partners?”
“Sebastian, think about it. If I go alone, I may die. If we both go, we may both die. You would risk leaving Ominis all alone?”
“I- ...is that something he's said?”
“You know that if we ask him to choose, he will carry the guilt for that decision for the rest of his life. I won't ask him to do more than let me go.”
“And what about me? What about the regret I would feel if you die?”
“...Sebastian... I'm not going to risk your life. If I die it'll be up to you to save Anne.”
“...”
“I'd rather you live. With regret and with Ominis.”
“You can't keep doing this.”
“Doing what?”
“Just- I dunno, be selfish for once.”
“Trust me, I am being selfish.”
“You- How is that- Stop putting us first, damn it!”
“Sebastian? What are you shouting about up here?”
“Ominis, I-”
“Sebastian doesn't want to feed Shai again. He's getting tired of being chewed on.”
“Sebastian, I know the little one is teething, but Shai is always so happy when you're doing the feeding.”
“Stop sulking, love. Come on.”
“Fine, fine... I'll do it.”
“Your target has started moving. I'd say you have till six to prepare for his arrival.”
“Alright, thanks.” The Keeper nodded, closing the small pocket mirror that Owl had given them two weeks ago, when he'd successfully pinned down the location that Gnarlak was always going to.
Apparently, the simple cosmetic glass had a two-way charm on it, that bound it with Owl's own and allowed its bearers to communicate across it. A useful trinket that the tracker had picked up along his travels and one that he used to coordinate manoeuvres like theirs.
A quick tempus informed them that it was a few minutes away from one in the early afternoon. That gave them about an hour to get to the goblin's secret base, and then four hours to scope out the location, remove anything that might prevent them from assassinating Gnarlak, and lie in wait for the goblin's arrival.
Fortunately, there was a floo point relatively close to the location, so they should be able to fly there on their broom without too much delay, thanks to Weekes’ upgrades.
“Tibsy.” The Keeper absently called for the elf as they pocketed the two-way mirror. “Tell Ominis and Sebastian that I'm leaving for work in thirty minutes.”
“Yes, Master.” Tibsy nodded and popped away, while the Keeper made their way down to Dìon’s first Basement floor, to change into the enhanced gear that they'd prepared for their assassination attempt.
They'd asked Owl to contact them if Gnarlak made to go to his secret base on a Saturday or Sunday, since the goblin would do so on relatively randomised days, and it seemed that the last Saturday of November, was also going to be the last day of Gnarlak’s life.
After donning more appropriate combat gear, they switched out their satchel for a less cluttered one, which they dumped several wiggenweld potions, their broom, and two jars of C-Pain energy into. Which should be enough for seven hours worth of maximum boosted physical and magical capability, if they took it incrementally.
They hesitated for a moment, before also grabbing a Fear pill to add to it. Better to bring it and not need it, than to need it and not have it.
Finished with their preparations, they returned to the castle's ground floor and found Ominis pacing in the main entryway anxiously.
“Ominis.” The Keeper smiled wryly. “I'll be fine.”
“You can't know that.” Ominis shot back without hesitation and the Keeper sighed. “How can you even be sure that he's going there?”
“Because Owl says that Gnarlak has a few things he always does before going to his secret base.” The Keeper explained patiently, apparently the goblin would procure an absurd amount of meat, probably for the beast that almost killed Vesper.
“What if he shows up early?” Ominis didn't even slow in his pacing.
“Owl will delay him if necessary.”
“How can you be sure that he will?”
“I’ve only given him half his pay, for pinning down Gnarlak’s base. He'll only get the rest after I kill the goblin.”
“How do you know he hasn't given you false information or laid a trap?” Ominis finally stopped pacing.
“I can't.” The Keeper answered honestly. “I cannot be sure of anything. Nobody can. But I am as sure as I can be.”
Ominis sighed. “Can't you just-”
“Nope.” The Keeper smiled wryly again, taking a few steps forward to pull his reluctant posh arse into a hug, guiding his blond head to rest on their shoulder and rubbing his back soothingly. “I'll be fine.”
They felt Ominis take a shuddering breath, his grip tight around their waist, near trembling as he held them close, and despite feeling guilty for making him so afraid, the Keeper was struck by how wonderful it felt, to be so loved so desperately. How fortunate they were, to have his love, selfish and needy as it was, yet tempered by his goodness and respect for their agency.
“Of course they’ll be fine, because they'll have this with them.” Sebastian's voice and footsteps came from behind them and as the Keeper turned to look, he yelped. “Damn it, Shai!”
The Keeper blinked as Sebastian, apparently, just barely managed to avoid tripping on the small dragon that was scuttling about his feet energetically.
“I swear, this stu- this dragon! Why do you keep following me everywhere!?” Sebastian exclaimed, stopping to glare at the small dragon. Unfortunately, it seemed that little Shai had taken that as an invitation and began to climb his leg.
With its claws.
Which was clearly quite painful, judging from the brunet's yowl, though, to his credit, he was exhibiting admirable restraint, holding still rather than kicking the little monster off. Instead, cradling the item he was holding in one arm, while helping himself by carrying some of Shai's weight with his other, until the dragon was happily perched on his shoulder.
“I swear it gets fatter every week. Bloody dragon's going to deplete our wiggenweld stock by the end of the year, mark my words.” Sebastian grumbled as he made his way over to them and, momentarily ignoring his many small puncture wounds, presented the item he'd been holding to the Keeper, and Ominis released them so that they could look.
In Sebastian's hands, was what looked like a dagger, about the length of his forearm, the centre of its iron blade was partially made of glass, allowing them to see a thick red liquid held within. Its hilt was about a third of its length and seemed to be made of their leftover mahogany wood, with ridges for a more stable grip, and a sheathe made of leather hung from Sebastian’s free shoulder.
“Is this the little project you've been working on?” The Keeper marvelled at the weapon, it was simple in appearance, but the unique design was complex enough to render such a point moot, if they even cared about appearances to begin with.
“Yup, you said Gnarlak might have a large creature under his control, so I thought I'd make you something that'll help with that. Managed to finish it a week ago, fortunately. All that research on woodcraft and metalwork for our castle doors, and the new sliding metal bar doors for guest cells, helped a lot.” Sebastian beamed proudly.
“Your steep learning curve, and creativity never ceases to amaze.” The Keeper chuckled fondly.
“Now if only you could apply that capacity for learning and problem solving, to things that aren’t dangerous or deadly.” Ominis sighed, and the brunet rolled his eyes.
“Anyway.” Sebastian pointed at the glass. “I designed this part so that when you stab something with it, its internal body pressure should cause the glass to shatter, releasing the poison inside it.”
“A purposefully fragile single-use weapon.” The Keeper nodded in understanding. “I'll keep that in mind.”
“What type of poison is it?” Ominis asked with a frown. “Body mass affects the effectiveness of poisons.”
“Remember the bloodroot we found in the old Dìon ruins?” Sebastian asked and they nodded. “Well, I made our first harvest into Bloodroot poison. It's the fastest and most potent NEWT-level potion, a teaspoon's worth can kill a human within fifteen minutes. Unless that beast is larger than a dragon, this should be enough to put it down.”
“That must have been difficult to brew.” The Keeper murmured, accepting the blade with reverence and feeling its weight. Balance was quite awful, but they weren't a blademaster, nor was Sebastian a blacksmith, if it performed the intended function, that would be sufficient.
“Yeah, well, if the poison works, we can add it to our catalogue in Vesters and Venom.” Sebastian gave a shrug with his dragonless shoulder, as he helped strap the holster for the dagger sheath to the Keeper's side.
“If we sell such a dangerous potion, I must insist that the customers register their information with us so that we can help any Auror investigations that might follow.” Ominis sighed.
“We can discuss that later, I have to leave now if I want to get there before two.” The Keeper shook their head as they sheathed the dagger, getting a feel for its weight on their body.
“I still think you shouldn't go at all.” Ominis grumbled. “But if I can't convince you to stay, then at least come back safe.”
“And I still think you should let me go with you, but good luck anyway.” Sebastian gave them a quick kiss on the cheek.
“I'll be back in a few hours.” The Keeper nodded firmly. “Help me owl Natty and the others that we're skipping tonight's lesson?”
“Sure.” Sebastian nodded, swatting at Shai when the dragon started gnawing on his earlobe, before pulling Ominis into a comforting hug.
With that, the Keeper hurried out of the castle, and mounted their broom, oh how they'd missed this feeling. The same adrenaline, exhilaration and freedom that they'd felt, when going to clear one of the Elder Keepers’ Trial dungeons.
The hunt was on.
Notes:
Many thanks once again, to my Patreon, cheeky_idler, for naming Shai as a Paid member with voting & suggestion power! ;)
Based on Hogwarts Legacy's lore drop, that wandless magic isn't less powerful than wand magic, and the Harry Potter lore, that if someone uses a wand for long enough, they can't go wandless unless they're very powerful. Natty and Amit's explanation on wands was the only way I could reconcile both facts.
British losing wandless when they don't practice wandless magic is like how if a bird doesn't try to fly, fall and break their wings as chicks, they can't fly as adults. If you're skilled enough, you can train yourself to do it later in life, but it's far harder when you're used to doing it with a wand, so only powerful/disciplined people manage to.
Hope that makes sense xD
The late 1800s was when environmental pollution awareness began to rise in London due to the severity of it and considering that Natty is from Uganda, her experience growing up in a tribe in Africa is no doubt incredibly different from city life, in London of all places. Small communities have more cohesion and a stronger sense of community than the distance of urban living, so I wanted to juxtapose those differing perspectives.
I also think humans tend to narrativise life, nature and human nature, and honestly, we're often wrong in our assumptions. We know less about ourselves than we would like to believe and even less about the world around us, and I find that accepting this helps with forgiving oneself and others for not making sense.
It is no failure to not be able to explain why we feel the way we feel, react the way we do, or want the things we want, and it's fine to just admit we don't know sometimes. Our “self” in our brain is made up of several independent nodes that do whatever the fuck they want and then the justification/rationalisation node comes up with a reason for it after the fact.
Not all our thoughts are our identity and oftentimes, our first thought/response is simply what we've been conditioned to think/do by our environment or society. It's the second thought that is us, a conscious decision, and the third thought is how we frame and narrativise those first two thoughts.
I tried to show this with the Keeper, their first thought is that instinct and emotions are dangerous and should be controlled and suppressed, this is due to their childhood. The second thought is that they would try anyway, that was their will. The third was their bitterness and frustration that “my nature is hindering me”, a negative and hopeless framing.
Facts are neutral, it's our minds that give them positive/negative connotations that motivate or hurt ourselves, often conditioned into us by societal expectations, and while undeniably insanely difficult, that third thought is something we can change if we have support.
It is, in the end, the Keeper's friends and partners who help them break out of this negative spiral. Naturally, like the Keeper, one also has to be open to that third thought/perspective being changed in order to achieve that shift in perspective. The good old glass half full or half empty comparison, if you will.
Hopefully this concept came across haha
On another note, to clarify, when I previously said Owl was one of the older members, I meant “been a member for a long time” not “member with higher age number”, I realised that it could be interpreted differently while writing this chapter, so I made that clearer xD
You could say that Borgok gave the Keeper as much as they gave him, in terms of motivation, in their negotiations. And the Keeper didn't really give anything about themselves to Faun or Vesper or even Alasdair. They gave Owl waaay more than he needed.
The Keeper's lost some of their paranoia lol People rub off on each other and the Keeper's been around pretty wholesome people for the last three years and Owl's good at his job xP
Lastly, for anyone who hasn't read/remembered the short story in the Tales of Beedle the Bard; The Wizard and the Hopping Pot, here's the section the Keeper semi-quotes:
[Upon the father's death, the son found hidden inside the old cooking pot a small package bearing his name. He opened it, hoping for gold, but found instead a soft, thick slipper, much too small to wear, and with no pair. A fragment of parchment within the slipper bore the words "In the fond hope, my son, that you will never need it.”]
