The Scriptorium loomed ahead, its entrance a gaping maw carved into the ancient stone. As I crossed the threshold, the air seemed to change. Every step reverberated faintly. Shadows danced wildly along the walls.
The chamber stretched before us, its towering vaulted ceilings disappearing into shadow. Serpents adorned every corner, their emerald eyes glowing faintly. The air hummed with power.
The pedestal at the chamber's heart stood bathed in an emerald glow. A book lay atop the stone, its leather spine cracked with age, an embossed serpent emblem gleamed with emerald eyes.
Ominis moved with ease, as though the darkness of this place was an extension of himself. He paused near the center of the chamber, tilting his head as though listening to something.
I followed his wandlight back to the pedestal. The chamber felt alive, its magic seeping into the very air we breathed.. Every detail of this place screamed of Slytherin’s power.
Ominis didn’t speak immediately. Instead, he gestured toward the book, his wandlight reflecting off the serpent’s gleaming eyes. “Take it,” he said quietly. “It’s why we’re here.”
I stared at him, trying to make sense of his words. “Why?” I asked, my voice trembling despite my best efforts to steady it.
He exhaled, his shoulders sagging slightly. “Because it’s meant for you,” he said plainly, “I thought… I thought if we brought it to Sebastian, it might help him. That it might settle him. But now…” He hesitated. “Now I think you need it more.”
His eyes seemed to search the air between us. “I’ve heard stories about Salazar Slytherin’s magic,” he continued. “Blood Curses. Curses that do more than wound; they stay with you. They twist you, become part of you.” His tone grew heavier. “Darkness that feeds on itself.”
“You think it’s the same magic,” I said finally, the truth settling over me.
“If it is the same magic,” I murmured, “then what am I supposed to do with it?”
“Learn,” he said firmly, stepping closer. “Learn to control it completely.”
For a moment, I didn’t move, the spellbook pulsing faintly in my hands.
Then his voice softened, the edge falling away. “There’s another reason I brought you here.”
His hand brushed against mine as he spoke. “I needed you to see the darkness Slytherin demanded of his family. What it meant to cast a curse like that on someone you care about. To be willing to do it without a second thought.” His jaw tightened, his voice dropping to a whisper. “That’s not a darkness I could ever want to be part of.”
I opened my mouth to respond, but the look on his face stopped me. He took another step forward, closing the distance between us until I could feel his robes against mine. The room around us seemed to fall away, the magic of the Scriptorium dimming into shadow.
“You hesitated,” he said, as though the admission cost him something. “When you could have just cast that curse on me, you hesitated.” His expression softened. “That told me everything I needed to know.”
His hand brushed mine again, deliberate, and I didn’t pull away. My heart quickened, heat rushing through me like wildfire. I wanted to speak, but the words wouldn’t come. The intensity of his presence stole them from me.
He didn’t move, he just stood there, waiting.
And then, I realized the choice wasn’t his to make. It was mine.
My thoughts flickered back over the weeks that had led to this moment; the way his voice softened when he spoke to me, the way his hand lingered just a second too long, or the way he stood too close sometimes and pretended not to notice.
Juniper had told me not to read into it, not to entertain it. “It’s Ominis,” she’d said, exasperated, the way she always was when she thought I’d lost all sense. “And he’s your great-uncle, Andromeda. Are you truly that dense?”
And yet here I was, not just entertaining the thought, but breathing life into it
Ominis’s fingers brushed mine a third time, and this time I met him halfway. His touch was steady. He leaned in closer, the edges of his words brushing against my skin.
“I’ve spent weeks wondering,” he said. “If I mattered. If you even cared. And now…” He paused, his fingers curling lightly around mine. “Now, I know.”
Before I could speak, before I could think, it happened, like two planets, never meant to share the same orbit, colliding in a moment of impossible magic. His hand found my face with a gentleness that defied the chaos between us, and then his lips met mine.
I kissed him back, the impossible magic of his touch erasing weeks of doubt and restraint as I leaned into him fully. The air in the chamber seemed to shift around us,.
When we finally broke apart, his breath lingered against my skin. My heart thundered in my chest, every beat amplified by silence between us. Neither of us moved, caught in the fragile space that had formed between what we’d done and what came next.
I felt him hesitate, his hand still cradling my face, his thumb brushing softly against my cheek.
And then he leaned in again, his lips finding mine with a gentleness that left me breathless. This kiss was slower, as though he was trying to commit the moment to memory. My hand curled into the front of his robes, holding him there as though I could stop time.
When he pulled back, it was gradual, his hand drifting from my face as if some part of him still wanted to stay.
“We should go,” he said, his voice uneven.
I nodded, though my voice didn’t come. I pressed the spellbook tightly against my chest.
As we turned toward the doorway, the shadows of the Scriptorium seemed to retreat, though the weight of what had passed between us clung to the air. Even as we stepped into the cold corridors of Hogwarts, I felt the warmth of his touch lingering. A presence that I knew wouldn’t easily fade.
Ominis walked just ahead of me, his wandlight casting shifting shadows. I could feel the weight of his thoughts.
“You can’t tell Sebastian about this,” he said suddenly.
“I agree,” I said softly. “It’s best if we don’t tell him anything. Not yet.”
Ominis slowed slightly, turning his head toward me. “Anything?” he asked, his tone quieter now, layered with a question that I knew wasn’t just about Sebastian.
The word lingered in the air. “Anything… anything?” I asked.
The corner of his mouth twitched, and for the briefest moment, I saw the hint of a smile play across his face. “We should both take some time before we make decisions like that,” he said, his voice tinged with something lighter. “After all, we are related… though I’m still not entirely sure how.”
I couldn’t help the small breath of laughter that escaped me, though it was tinged with a nervousness.
We fell into silence again as we rounded the final corner. Ominis descended first, his wandlight sharp. As we reached the bottom of the stairs, my gaze landed on Sebastian sitting in one of the armchairs by the fireplace. He turned slightly at the sound of our approach, and I felt the spellbook grow heavier in my arms.
“And where have you two been?” Sebastian’s voice cut through the warmth of the common room. He stood arms crossed, his figure silhouetted against the flickering flames.
Ominis didn’t flinch. He turned his back to Sebastian with ease, composed—too composed. He leaned in toward me, his voice so low it barely carried. “Take the spellbook and go.”
His tone left no room for argument, but before I could move, his hand brushed mine. Then, in one smooth, deliberate motion, he bent his head and pressed a featherlight kiss to my temple.
The gesture sent a jolt through me The warmth of his lips lingered, an imprint that burned hotter than the fire crackling just feet away.
“Goodnight, Ominis,” I said, dazed, as if the room had tilted slightly off its axis.
“Goodnight, Andromeda,” Sebastian called after me, his tone dripping with suspicion.
Sebastian tapped his foot dramatically. “Well?”
Ominis didn’t flinch. “Does it matter?” he said, his tone slicing through the tension.
Sebastian faltered, his irritation twisting into confusion. “Of course it—”
“Do you have any idea what time it is?” Ominis interrupted smoothly. “You would’ve been wandering these halls all night if I hadn’t noticed you weren’t in bed. Again.”
“Me? Wandering? I came out because—wait, what are you—” Sebastian stammered, his composure faltering.
“Honestly,” Ominis continued, his tone clipped “these bouts of sleepwalking are becoming a nuisance. You never remember what you’re doing or why.”
“Sleepwalking?” Sebastian spluttered, his voice rising. “That’s ridiculous, even for you, Ominis. Where were you really?” His frustration spilling over. “And what’s so important that she’s sneaking around with you this late?”
As their voices faded into the background, I slipped into my room and leaned against the door. I set the spellbook carefully on my desk before sinking onto the edge of my bed, my mind spinning.
Ominis’s voice echoed in my ears. There was a quiet insistence in his words, the warmth in the way he’d said my name. And that kiss… I reached up, my fingertips brushing the spot on my temple where his lips had pressed. The heat of it hadn’t faded.
I kept replaying the way he’d pulled me close, his hands finding me like they’d always known the way. His lips had been softer than I’d imagined—no, softer than I’d let myself imagine, because I’d sworn I wouldn’t let myself think of him that way. But now… now there was no pretending.
